“How generous of your husband to let you go during the holidays,” Mina Auntie said. “You must be returning soon, no?”
Leena’s knees weakened under her. “I . . . I’m not . . . sure.”
Piya reached over and squeezed her hand. “Well, I’m happy to have you back.”
“Leena!” The voice came from behind her, and Leena spun around to see her father waving.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” As she turned to leave, she caught Mina Auntie’s eyes narrowing. Leena rejoined her parents, whose scant load of crops was already depleted.
“Did she say anything to you? Mina Auntie?” Leena’s father asked once they were in the car. “What did she say?”
“What does it matter what that woman has to say?” her mother snapped.
Though curious, Leena did not ask what they were talking about. She was by now so accustomed to the sharp talk between her parents, she was just grateful they said little else to each other on the rest of the ride home.
18
EVERYTHING AT THAI PHOON WAS A DEEP SHADE OF PURPLE: the walls, the napkins, even the highchairs. There was no mistaking this restaurant for the stark white hospital cafeteria where Anil consumed so many meals, and for this reason alone, he loved it.
“I told you not to get serious about her.” Mahesh scooped rice onto his plate. “From the first day, I told you she’d be trouble.”
Anil couldn’t shake the deep unrest he’d felt the previous weekend with Amber’s family, and how it infected the way he saw everything—even her accent, which he used to love, now reminded him of her brothers. They hadn’t talked about it since they’d returned, as if neither of them could bring themselves to face the ugliness that had erupted that weekend. But a cool distance had settled between them, one they both maintained without acknowledging.
Anil now spent his free time at the medical library working on the research proposal for Tanaka, an excuse Amber readily accepted. His idea was to analyze data from patients who presented at the Parkview ER with cardiovascular symptoms and map the key indicators to treatments that would lead to the best patient outcomes. The proposal was bold in scope and would yield valuable information for Parkview if he could secure a mentor to help him orchestrate the cross-departmental cooperation needed. Dr. Tanaka, as head of the Cardiology Department and respected throughout the hospital, would be the ideal sponsor for this research, and Anil hoped to convince him of this.
Baldev reached for the pad thai. “Man, I’m telling you, you should ask that Dr. Sonia out,” he said. “Mahesh, you should see this woman he works with. Totally hot, in a naughty teacher sort of way.” He turned to Anil. “And, I think she likes you.”
The week before, Baldev had come by the hospital to borrow Anil’s house key after misplacing his own, where he’d met Sonia in the break room, then flirted with one of the nurses and left with her phone number. “Dude, you’re crazy,” Anil said. “She doesn’t like me, and I can’t ask her out. She’s practically my boss.”
“So?” Baldev said. “This is America. I’d ask my boss out if she was hot.”
“You don’t work with any women,” Anil said.
“Exactly.” Baldev pointed his chopsticks at Anil. “Consider yourself fortunate. Don’t squander that opportunity, man. I did, however, meet an interesting new client this week. She was all alone in a big empty house in Plano—husband at work, kids at school.”
“Kids?” Mahesh held a half-eaten spring roll suspended in front of his mouth.
“Yeah, she was like forty or something. But still good-looking. Takes good care of herself, if you know what I mean. And she was very appreciative of my work. She said she’d call me back to rewire her bedroom.” Baldev moved his eyebrows up and down. “You know what that means.”
Mahesh shook his head. “I’m telling you, you could both have your pick of girls back home. My parents started putting the word out for me last month.”
“Too bad you screwed up that promotion,” Baldev said. Anil jabbed an elbow at him. “What?” Baldev said to Anil. “He should’ve listened to you, that’s all.”
Mahesh shook his head. “Yeah, lesson learned. You were right, Anil. Next performance review, I’ll go in with a list of my accomplishments and start building my case.” He shrugged. “Anyway, my parents are already getting a lot of interest.”
“Yeah, so have you seen any of these girls yet?” Baldev teased. “Their pictures? Or do you just get astrology charts and that nonsense?”
“My mother’s screening them first,” Mahesh said. “She wants to separate the serious prospects from the girls who just want to come to America. You’ve got to be careful about that. Everyone wants to come over here, until they realize there are no servants to do the housework.”
“Well, go ahead and settle down if you want.” Baldev tipped back his beer. “Not me. I’m not getting married ’til I’m thirty. At least. One hundred percent guaranteed.”
THEY SANG along to the Delhi-6 soundtrack blaring through the overtaxed speakers of Mahesh’s Honda Civic all the way home. Mahesh pulled into a parking spot but waited until the song was finished to switch off the ignition. In the quiet that ensued, Amber appeared in the frame of the front windshield, waving at them.
“Well hello, Miss Amber.” Baldev leaped out of the car, leaving Anil stranded in the rear seat, groping for the front-seat lever to liberate himself. He stepped out of the car in time to see Baldev, lubricated by music and beer, take Amber’s hand and bow formally to her. She was dressed in athletic gear, and Anil felt a wrench of guilt over having fun with the guys while she’d been working late. “What brings you out at this hour?” Baldev said.
Amber’s hair was coming loose from her ponytail, and her eyes looked weary. “I have a new client who can only meet at 9 p.m.” Her bag slid off her shoulder and landed at her feet. “And I have to be back at six tomorrow morning.”
“Oh no,” Baldev said. “Has the good doctor rubbed off on you, with his work-around-the-clock nonsense?” He threw one arm around Anil’s shoulders and the other around Amber’s. “I’ve been trying to teach him. You must drink the sweet nectar of life.” Baldev slapped Anil on the back, then playfully pushed him away.
“Here he goes,” Mahesh grumbled. “Our daily lesson in the philosophy of hedonism.”
Anil reached down to pick up Amber’s backpack and gestured for her to go ahead. They walked toward the complex, Baldev leading the way, his arm slung around Amber and leaning conspiratorially toward her. “Miss Amber, you come spend some time with me, I’ll show you how to enjoy life. You like dancing? I have some good moves on the dance floor.” He did a funny little quickstep, and Amber giggled.
Anil heard the sounds first: laughter and cursing, followed by the shatter of breaking glass. He slowed his pace and looked down the empty passageway to where the sounds were coming from. A moment later, two men came into view around the corner. Anil recognized Rudy, wearing a wide-brimmed black cowboy hat, and his tattooed friend, Lee, both holding beer bottles.
Mahesh stopped in place when he saw them. Anil reached out to grab Baldev by the shoulder, but his friend was too far ahead. Baldev and Amber stepped into the bright pool of security lights lining the perimeter of the complex. Anil and Mahesh stood shrouded by darkness a few feet away. Anil’s ears filled with buzzing from the lights overhead, and there was a pulsating in his throat. He recalled the time his family had gone to see a reenactment of the epic Mahabharata when he was young, where he watched the scene play out before him on a lighted stage. The same feeling of dread had occupied his chest then, as he anticipated the bloody battle scenes.
It took a moment longer for Lee, staggering down the passageway, to notice Baldev and Amber. “Well, whatta we have here?” He took a swig from his beer bottle and let out a loud belch. “Hey, Rudy,” he yelled over his shoulder, louder than necessary. “Look here, it’s Foxy Boxey.” His tattooed arm bulged out from his T-shirt sleeve as he swung the six-pack. Anil saw that only two bo
ttles were left. “These guys bothering you, Amber?”
Rudy stopped a few feet away, tipped his hat back, and peered at Baldev, his bloodshot eyes darting between him and Amber. “What the fuck?” Rudy said. Then he repeated it, shouting this time, holding both arms up in front of him. “This guy?” Rudy stomped the pavement, and Anil noticed the thick black heels of his cowboy boots, the swirled embroidery pattern on the toe.
Mahesh moved closer to Anil, so their shoulders were touching. “We should go,” he whispered. Anil nodded imperceptibly without taking his eyes off Rudy and Lee. He moved one step closer to Baldev and Amber, and Mahesh followed behind, a timid puppy.
Rudy threw his arms up in the air and dropped them to his sides. “So this is your boyfriend, Amber, huh?” He jerked his chin toward Baldev. “This is the guy you been ditching me for? A fuckin’ towel head?”
“Rudy, please—” Amber’s voice was muffled. She shook her head.
“Listen, gentlemen.” Baldev smiled and stepped in front of Amber. “There’s no problem here. We’re just walking the lady home, okay?” He held out his hand to Rudy.
Rudy slapped it away. “Yeah, well, I think there is a problem, nigger.” He jabbed his finger into Baldev’s chest. “Problem is, you’ve got your stinkin’ Paki hands all over this girl, and I don’t like it.” Rudy rammed the heel of his hand into Baldev’s chest, causing him to stumble backwards.
Anil stepped forward, grabbed Amber by the wrist and pulled her back toward him. The rhythm of his heart was thumping in his eardrums.
“Oh, you too, punk?” Lee bellowed at Anil, waving his beer bottle in front of his face. “Hey, Rudy, this towel head thinks he can get a piece of her too. Get your hands off her. You hear me? You guys are sick, you know that?” He spat on the ground, then stood squarely in front of Anil.
Anil dropped Amber’s wrist and put his hands in the air. “I’m not touching anybody. I think Amber can go. No need for her to be here.” He glanced toward Amber and nodded his head in the direction of her apartment. Her brow was ridged and her eyes held the same fear he’d seen many times in his patients.
“Yeah, go on, Amber,” Rudy said. “We’ll take the trash out for you.”
Anil kicked the backpack toward her and jerked his head again. Amber’s lower lip was trembling, and a small sob escaped from her throat as she reached down for her bag and slowly backed away, until she disappeared around the corner.
Rudy drained his beer and hurled the empty bottle sideways against the wall, where it shattered inches from Baldev’s feet.
“Listen, gentlemen.” Baldev’s face broke into its signature wide smile as he relaxed his posture and put his hands in his pockets. “You can’t blame Amber for enjoying our company,” he slurred, rocking back on his heels. “I have a way with the ladies. They find me irresistible, right guys?” He turned to Anil, smiling and nodding.
Anil was frozen, uncertain how to react. Baldev could talk his way out of any situation. Perhaps his usual charm would work here, and in a few minutes they’d all be back in their beige apartment, laughing about it. Slowly, Anil nodded back at his buddy.
Baldev was facing him, a grin on his face, when out of the corner of his eye, Anil saw Rudy lunge at Baldev. He grabbed Baldev’s shirt with both fists and slammed him up against the brick wall, glass crunching under his boots.
Behind Anil, Mahesh cried out, invoking a God whose mercy was absent at that moment. Anil made a movement toward Rudy, adrenaline flooding out any sense of caution in his brain, but he found himself facing Lee, a massive wall of a man. “You better stay outta the way if you don’t wanna get your ass kicked all the way back to I-raq, Osama.”
Anil pushed against Lee’s muscular arm, but his efforts were futile. As he watched impotently over Lee’s shoulder, Rudy drove his fist into Baldev’s abdomen. Baldev doubled over and groaned.
“Get up, boy.” Rudy kicked Baldev behind the leg, causing him to stumble forward onto his knees, his palms landing in the shards of glass. Baldev began to crawl away slowly on the pavement. Anil could hear the sounds of broken glass scratching under his knees. “Where you goin’, boy?” Rudy followed Baldev a few paces, a smirk on his face, then raised his boot and positioned his heel squarely above the center of Baldev’s back. He looked at Lee and grinned.
Mahesh whimpered. Anil squeezed his own eyes closed, then forced himself to open them again just in time to see the thick black heel crash down. A terrible cracking sound pierced the air and Baldev was flattened onto the pavement, facedown in the glass, his arms and legs splayed out around him. Blood trickled down his forehead and he gave a low moan. Anil’s mind traveled back to when he was seven years old and the servants had trapped a rabbit that had been raiding the crops. The injured animal, its hind leg caught between two sharp wires of the homemade trap, had emitted the same sad sound of defeat.
Anil thrust himself forward again and, taking Lee by surprise this time, managed to push past him. He tried to grab Rudy by the back of his shoulders, but ended up with two fistfuls of his shirt. Anil had no idea how to fight, his only education coming from watching staged Bollywood fistfights, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in unbridled fervor. He tried to pull Rudy away from Baldev, but his own shoulders were yanked and suddenly he was flying backwards. Anil saw a glimpse of Lee’s stained yellow teeth for a fraction of a second before time slowed down and everything went quiet, save for the humming in his ears. He watched Lee draw back his clenched fist, then saw it coming toward his head.
There was an explosion of pain in the left side of his face. Anil heard a crack he hoped wasn’t his fragile cheekbone, and tasted blood in his mouth. He fell to the ground, slamming his right elbow on the concrete, and immediately rolled over into a fetal position, arms wrapped around his body and cradling his elbow. He took a couple of breaths, and when he tried to open his eyes, the left eye resisted, opening only partway.
Anil staggered onto his knees and leaned over the grass, certain he was going to be sick, but nothing came up. Mahesh was kneeling in front of him, his forehead touching the ground, repeating an unidentifiable mantra over and over.
Anil turned to look over his shoulder. Lee had hauled Baldev up off the ground and was holding his arms behind his back while Rudy drove his fist into Baldev’s gut, over and over again. His friend’s head hung off to one side in a way that looked unnatural; blood streamed from his forehead and down his cheeks. Anil touched his own temple, and his fingers came away coated scarlet.
“So, you learn your lesson, towel head? You gonna keep your stinking Paki-nigger hands off Amber?” Rudy shouted, linking together his racist invective in one illogical string. “Huh?” Rudy bit his lower lip, flared his nostrils, and kicked Baldev in the shin, but got no response. Baldev’s eyes were swollen shut and his chin hung down on his chest. “Huh, did ya?” Rudy leaned down until his face was within a few inches of Baldev’s, as if to inspect his handiwork up close, then made a horrible retching sound, drew back, and spat in Baldev’s face. Still no reaction.
Lee released Baldev’s arms, and Baldev slumped to the ground. His head landed on the pavement with a thud. Lee nudged Baldev’s ribcage with the toe of his boot, as one would test a suspicious-looking rodent to see if it was alive. “Yeah, I think he learned his lesson.” Lee took a few steps away and leaned down to pick up the six-pack.
Rudy turned toward Anil and Mahesh, both crouched on the ground several feet away. “You tell your buddy here to leave Amber alone, and you niggers too, if you don’t want to end up like him.” Rudy kicked Baldev’s limp arm. “Go home and stay with your own fucking kind!” He straightened his cowboy hat, which had somehow managed to stay on during the brutalities. “If I see any of you with her again”—he pointed a threatening finger around to each of them—“I’ll put you in the fucking morgue, got it?”
Lee pulled the last two bottles of beer out of the six-pack, handed one to Rudy, and together they swaggered off toward the parking lot. Anil waited until the two
men were out of sight, then rushed over to Baldev, lying motionless on the pavement.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Mahesh repeated in something between a prayer and a cry.
“Mahesh!” Anil snapped. He clapped his hands once. “Go tell Amber to call an ambulance. Get some towels and blankets and the first-aid kit from the closet.” Mahesh hesitated. “Go! Now!” Anil cried. Mahesh ran off.
Anil leaned close to Baldev’s mouth and placed his palm on his friend’s chest. He watched it rise and fall long enough to calculate his breathing rate in the normal range, then observed for another minute, monitoring the way his chest moved. He laid two fingers on Baldev’s carotid artery and felt for his pulse, closing his eyes to count the beats. Airway clear, breathing shallow, twenty breaths per minute, pulse fifty-six.
When he opened his eyes, Amber was kneeling across from him, on the other side of Baldev. Her eyes were shot through with red vessels, and her face was streaked with tears. “Ambulance is on the way,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “I called the police as soon as I got inside. It’s been at least five minutes. I thought they’d be here by now—” She choked on her words and started to cry. “Oh God,” she sobbed. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Baldev?” Anil lightly slapped each of his friend’s cheeks. His face was covered in blood, and tiny shards of brown glass were embedded in his forehead, the left side of his face, and chin. A deep gash sliced across the corner of one eyelid, and the flesh around both eyes was swollen and bruised. “Baldev? Can you hear me, bhai?” As Anil wiped his bloody hand across the front of his shirt, a shooting pain traveled from his right elbow down to his wrist. He tried to pry open one of Baldev’s eyelids.
Mahesh stepped forward and sank to his knees, holding out a stack of blankets and towels without speaking. Amber grabbed one, a cheery yellow-striped towel Baldev had bought for the pool. “Should I put this under his head?”