by Philip Roy
“Radji? Did you ever go to school?”
“No.”
“How come you speak English?”
“That’s what my mother spoke to me. And my friends. But I speak better than them. I learned also at Kochi. I tried very hard to learn.”
“You did a good job. Did anyone ever try to teach you how to read and write?”
“No.”
“Do you want to learn?”
“I am going to learn.”
“That’s good.”
“After I bathe in the Ganges my sins will be forgiven. I will be free and everything in my life will change.”
“Oh. Can your mother and father read and write?”
“No. I don’t know anybody who can.”
“Really?”
“Except you. You can.”
“Yes. You will really like reading and writing, Radji. You are very smart. I can tell. You will learn quickly and be amazed at how interesting it is.”
“I know. I used to love reading before.”
“Before? What do you mean?”
“In another life. Before this one.”
“Another life?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“In another life I read books and even wrote them.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I feel it. Sometimes when I’m sleeping I remember reading books and writing them.”
“Cool. What about chess? Did you play chess in another life?”
“I don’t think so. I think this is the first time that I played.”
“Well, I think you are going to be very good at that too.”
“I hope so. I will try my hardest and give no quarter.”
I laughed. “That’s good. What do you see through the periscope now?”
“I see the barge. I see trees and grass. I see rice fields. I see people working in the fields. I see . . . a temple.”
“Really? Let me see.”
Radji jumped down and I looked. It was a small grey temple, like a pyramid, but box-shaped. The rice fields came close to the banks of the river. There were ponds in some of the fields. In one of the ponds I saw something slither across the top of the water. I was pretty sure it was a snake. “Are there snakes here?”
“Yes. There are many snakes.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“Yes. Many people die.”
I opened my guide book and searched for information on snakes. It said that there are four dangerous snakes in India. Every year about two hundred and fifty thousand people get bitten by them and 20 percent die. Wow. That’s fifty thousand people. Every year! Holy smokes! Most of the people who die are field workers. It said that if you get bitten you must find the snake and kill it, then take it with you to a medical centre so that they can identify it and give you the right antidote before you die. Great. “Radji. These fields are dangerous.”
“I know. I told you.”
“Then why the heck are people working in them? And they have bare feet!”
“There is no other work. They must work or they have nothing to eat.”
“But that’s crazy!”
“No. You only die when it is your time to die. If it isn’t your time, then you won’t die. Nothing will change that.”
“Hmmm. I don’t think I believe that.”
“I do.”
We followed the barge for about fifteen miles, and that took the rest of the day. We passed several barges going the other way. Loaded and riding with the current they came down the river faster than they went up. The further upriver we went, the narrower it became, and some of the turns were tricky, especially when two barges met. Where our barge finally stopped and turned around, there was a dock with trucks backing onto a ramp and unloading. There were half a dozen barges in line in front of ours. I decided to continue around the next bend, find a spot to surface in the dark, toss the anchor and tie up to something.
I tied up to a tree in a dark corner, underneath some hanging branches. It was out of the way of the barge traffic and a good place to hide. We tried to sleep that night so we could get out and explore the next day, but since we had already been sleeping in the day and travelling at night, it was hard to change back. I was used to it but Radji wasn’t. Even though he tried hard to go to sleep I heard him bumping around with Hollie, or thought I did, which told me that my hearing was getting a lot better, which was good, except that I had a lousy sleep. So did Radji. Then, with the early morning light coming up through the observation window, I saw him sitting up with Hollie and studying the chess board.
There are days when, if you knew what was coming, you wouldn’t get out of bed. You’d pull up the covers and say, “No thanks.” But I always wondered: if you avoided days like that, would they just come the next day anyway?
After a breakfast of porridge and tea and oranges, we climbed out of the sub and left it tied to the tree, with the portal sticking up just a few inches beneath the shadow of the branches. The only traffic on the river was the barges, and there was no way they would ever notice the portal in that corner, especially when they were busy navigating the turn. Some barges went further upstream where there must have been other unloading docks along the river, which meant there were other quarries too. In between the quarries were rice fields, ponds and wooded areas. We had seen them along the way. I figured we could walk in a wooded area and stay clear of the rice fields and ponds.
I took along the tool bag for Hollie but he started on foot. Seaweed was already out and gone. I sure hoped he would be careful around snakes. He had a surprisingly aggressive nature when he was on his own. He would attack and rip apart crabs of all types and sizes and didn’t seem to be afraid of anything, except snowy owls in the Arctic. But snowy owls would chase wolves away from their nests. Sometimes I wondered if Seaweed thought he was actually an eagle or an osprey. I would never show him a mirror, just in case.
We left the river and entered a wooded area. The ground was dry and the trees were dusty. Although it was hot already in the early morning, I loved the heat of India. There was a faint smell of spice in the air but I didn’t know which one it was. I kept a constant lookout for snakes. Hollie tramped around cautiously. He was cautious when I was cautious. He sniffed with suspicion. He zigzagged in front and behind us when curious items made it impossible for him to resist; otherwise he tramped steadily at my feet. Through the trees I caught sight of a nearby rice field, and the shiny brown limbs of workers there. I wondered if you took an x-ray of the field how many snakes you would find, and where they would be. I supposed you’d have to have such an attitude as Radji had about life and death if you were going to work there. I wouldn’t do it. I’d walk to the sea and fish for a living instead, like my grandfather.
We hadn’t gone far when Radji had a bit of bad luck. He tripped on a fallen log and twisted his ankle. He said he was all right but I noticed he limped a little after that. I wondered if he tripped because of the sneakers he was wearing, as he was used to going barefoot. But he was attached to them and refused to take them off.
The woods widened and narrowed and widened again before it reached a field that was not a rice field, and we felt comfortable crossing it. Then we crossed a road and entered another wooded area. Beside the road I saw a poster that showed a father tossing a girl up in the air. The poster said, “Save the Girl Child.” “What does that mean, Radji? What does it mean . . . save the girl child?”
Radji turned red and stared at the ground.
“What? What’s wrong? What’s wrong, Radji? Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
“What’s upsetting you?”
“It means babies.”
“I don’t understand.”
Radji started breathing very heavily. I was starting to wonder if he had asthma. He took a few deep breaths and spoke with great stress. “Sometimes . . . sometimes people kill their babies if they are girls.”
“What?”
He
was breathing so hard. I didn’t want to upset him anymore. “It’s okay, Radji. We don’t have to talk about it. It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about . . . chess.”
“Okay.”
And so we did. And I was astonished to learn that Radji had fixed the game in his mind so well already that he could talk about the players and their moves and the spaces as if it were all in front of him. Even so, I couldn’t stop wondering what he meant about killing babies. But I wouldn’t ask him again. I would ask someone else.
Chapter Eleven
EVERY COUNTRY SMELLS different, feels different, and looks different. India was the most beautiful country I ever saw. If you think of a country as being like an animal then India was the animal with the most colour, the softest fur, the shiniest eyes, the sharpest claws, the longest tail, and the prettiest face. She also smelled the nicest . . . and the worst. She smelled like cinnamon and sandalwood and the heat of the ground and your own skin. But she also smelled like the sewer, and you learned quickly which way to turn your head. But that was only in the cities. In the country everything smelled wonderful.
India was also the friendliest country to me, but the most unfriendly to her own people, it seemed. She was the safest in some ways, yet the most dangerous in others. She was dangerous because of the slithering beasts that lay on the ground like shiny pieces of jewelled rope—hidden behind a log or a bush—that would rush away from you like ribbons in the wind, or stand up and strike you with deadly poison.
The snake caught us completely off-guard. We didn’t know it was there because it wasn’t where snakes are supposed to be. It wasn’t in the field. It wasn’t near water or rocks or any place to hide. We had stopped in the woods to look at a beautiful bush with flowers on it, and the snake was there. But we couldn’t see it. The colour of the snake blended in with the bush so well we thought it was all one. Even Hollie didn’t know it was there. But when it came out of the flowers and struck at Radji, I saw it. And even though it happened in an instant I saw the black eyes of the snake as it went past. Then Hollie started barking and the snake recoiled and struck at him. But Hollie jumped back. By then I had raised my stick and I struck at the snake and hit it on its back. It dropped to the ground and raced into the bushes so quickly all we saw was the thin tail for an instant, and it was gone.
It happened so fast and unexpectedly we were all shocked. Two thoughts raced through my head: had Radji been bitten? And, if he had, I must catch the snake and kill it. Radji had jumped a couple of feet off the ground when the snake had struck, but had it bitten him? He had cried out.
“Radji? Are you okay? Did the snake bite you?”
He was breathing heavily and his face was red and wearing a very serious expression. He nodded his head with resignation. “Yes.”
“It did? Oh no! Quick! Quick! We have to find a clinic or a hospital. We have to find someone to take us there, to drive us. Quick, we have to hurry now!”
But Radji just sat down, crossed his legs and dropped his head. “No. That doesn’t matter now. It is my time now.”
“What? No, it isn’t! Don’t be silly! We have to get you to a doctor right now, and we’ll get you the right antidote and you’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go!”
But Radji just sat there and shook his head. I bent down. “Let me see.” He stretched out his leg and I saw the nasty red marks just above his ankle. I couldn’t believe that those two little marks were where a snake had sunk its poison to kill. What a dangerous creature. “Come on! Let’s go!”
Radji got to his feet reluctantly. I couldn’t believe how resigned he was. He really thought he was dying, and there was nothing we could do about it. But I would never believe that. I wanted him to run with me but he wouldn’t. He was walking, but too slowly. “Come on, Radji! Please try harder!”
“But I am tired. And I am dying anyway. Why try harder?”
“Because you are not going to die. We will find a doctor. You are going to be fine.”
Radji did not have the will to try because he did not believe there was any point. But I thought he might also be tired because of the snake’s venom. And I saw that his leg was already beginning to swell. That frightened me. “Okay, climb onto my back. I’m going to carry you.”
Radji dropped his face. He had no will to continue. I pulled off the tool bag and left it on the ground. “Here. Climb up and hold on around my neck.” I said it so firmly he obeyed me. I bent down, he held onto my neck, and I slid my hands underneath his knees. Because he was so light I was able to walk quickly. Hollie looked back at the tool bag, then joined us and trotted by my feet.
I walked as quickly as I could and tried to think positively. I would find a road, stop a car and get them to take us to a clinic. Radji would get the antidote and would be fine. By suppertime everything would be okay.
Well, it didn’t work like that. We had crossed three roads earlier, but I couldn’t seem to find one now. I didn’t want to go back because it was so far. There must be one very close to us now. I walked faster. As light as Radji was, it was a lot of work carrying him. I was quickly out of breath and had to slow down a little.
I couldn’t find a road! What a horrible feeling it was. There must be a road, but where was it? Radji was growing more tired. His voice sounded sleepy. “Stay awake, Radji! You have to stay awake.”
“But I am so tired.”
“Yes, but you have to stay awake.”
“Will you take me to Varanasi?”
“What?”
“Will you take me to Varanasi? When I die?”
“Radji. You’re not going to die.”
“Will you take me if I do? And burn my body? Please?”
“Yes, I will take you, but you are not going to die.”
“Do you promise?”
He sounded so sleepy now. “Radji!”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise. Now stay awake!”
His face bumped against my back as we hurried along. It was getting very difficult to keep walking, but I had to. Where was the road?
Finally I saw a sign and found a road. I waved to the first car to stop but it wouldn’t. I waved to the next one too, but they wouldn’t stop. When the third car came, I stepped in front of it and forced it to stop, but the driver yelled at us and waved his arms angrily, then drove onto the shoulder and went around us. I couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t anyone stop? Then a taxi stopped but was filled with passengers already. I yelled to the driver that Radji had a snake bite and asked if we could squeeze in too but he shook his head. He said that there was a clinic just a mile up the road. Then he drove off. I kept walking and trying to stop every car. But no one else would stop. No one.
Walking that mile was the worst experience in my whole life. Radji went to sleep. I couldn’t wake him. I felt his leg with my hand and it was swollen. And even though he was so very light, I became exhausted carrying him so far and couldn’t go as fast as I wanted to, as I needed to. I felt so awful. And then something else happened that caused me even more anxiety. When I looked behind me, Hollie wasn’t there. He was gone. I yelled for him but he never came. Where had he gone? What happened? I started wondering if maybe he had been bitten by the snake, too. I wanted so badly to go back and find him. He would be expecting me to. But . . . I couldn’t. I had to get Radji to the doctor.
That was the worst feeling—wanting so desperately to find Hollie but not being able to. I was carrying a boy on my back who was dying. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t go back now. It would have to be later. I could only hope later wouldn’t be too late. For now I had to keep going. That’s all I could do. It was a nightmare.
The road crossed another road, and for a moment I didn’t know which way we should go. They looked the same. But the taxi driver never said to turn off, so I kept going straight, although I worried now that it might be the wrong way. It was bringing us closer to the river. I didn’t see any houses or towns or anything but fields and woods. My arms a
nd legs were really tired now. Radji was still asleep. I talked to him but he wouldn’t wake up. I tried not to think about what might happen. I tried to think just positive thoughts. And then I saw a house, and then I saw a clinic sign. I was so happy. I tried to walk faster. “Hold on Radji! We are almost there.”
The clinic was in someone’s house. The house was fancy for being out in the country. It was right next to the river and there was a high iron gate all around it. There was a shiny new car sitting in the driveway and a new motorboat beside that. I went up to the gate but found it locked. There was a bell, so I grabbed it with one hand, still holding Radji on my back. I started ringing the bell and didn’t stop until an old woman came out of the house and walked over to us. She opened the gate but when she saw Radji on my back she shook her head. I pushed past her and rushed to the house. I banged on the door with my foot until it opened and there was a man in a suit and a white doctor’s coat. “What?” he said.
I pushed inside. “It’s my friend. He’s been bitten by a snake. Please help us.”
The doctor looked at Radji and I saw his nose twitch, as if he were smelling him the way an animal would smell another animal. He took a step back. Radji did smell. His clothes smelled like old carpet, his hair smelled a bit like vinegar, and his fingernails were black. He really needed a bath. I wondered when was the last time he had taken one. But where would Radji take a bath?
The doctor’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. He frowned and shook his head. My face fell. “Help us! You’re a doctor!”
“I cannot help you,” he said.
“Yes, you can! You’re a doctor.”
“I am a doctor but I cannot help you. Go somewhere else.”
“You mean you won’t help us. You can help us but you won’t.”
Without changing his voice he said, “I cannot help you. Go somewhere else.”
I yelled at him. “Where? Where are we supposed to go?”
