Читать книгу The Cynic - PAO - Страница 8

January 24^th, 2010

“Ajay, can you set the table, please?” Nita asked her son impatiently. For the third time in the past half hour. “They are coming at seven o’clock, right?”

“Yes, yes, Mama. I’ll do it now.” He got up off the low couch in the living room with an exaggerated groan of effort and started towards the verandah.

“Just help your mother, would you,” Soval chided his son whilst still deeply ensconced in his recliner chair. He was fervently scanning the local paper. “She has done all the hard work.”

“Yes, Papa,” Ajay assented, knowing this to be the truth. He admired and respected his father, but he loved his mother, and she spoilt him. Nita had been busy in her kitchen all day. She loved to cook and to share the incredibly crafted meals with guests. Her Persian cultural heritage had instilled in her the duty and privilege of hosting foreigners, and her upbringing had allowed her to learn how to cook marvellous traditional delicacies as well as to adapt to cooking in new countries, first England and now the Sedois Islands.

Nita had started early with a methodical walk around her exquisite garden. She collected fresh herbs and spices there before foraging the local area to gather additional ingredients that were not in her garden or were not yet ripe. Then, with her bike wheeled beside her, she headed towards La Porte where roadside stalls sold coconuts and fresh vegetables from the northern farms. Nita was little in stature but was a bustling bundle of energy. She was well known on the island and appreciated for her generosity of spirit, sound counsel, and her ability to keep secrets when required.

Her selfless rearing of several abandoned children, combined with a continued commitment to girls’ education and non-judgemental moral guidance, were respected and admired by the local community. And she was also Ajay’s mother. Kindly greetings and friendly conversation followed her as she passed along the road collecting the required items. These were stowed carefully in the basket on the back of her bicycle. Most people would not dream of taking her money, remembering some kindness done for them or theirs by her or her son. Nita was gently insistent and would always pay something, even if it ended up being a small portion of the actual price.

“You’re too kind,” she would trill repeatedly and enthusiastically as she kept on moving north along the road. “Thank you again. I’ll see you soon.”

Her real destination was the northern port and she aimed to arrive mid-morning, just as the fishing boats returned with their catch. The fishermen would announce their arrival into port by blowing loudly through the conch shell. This age-old signal indicated they were ready for business. The mournful bellow from these musical mollusc shells carried well across the island, as there was little other noise to compete. Nita knew from experience that to get the best seafood it paid to be waiting at the port when the boats were coming in. She could begin cheerful haggling as the boats were anchoring in the bay.

“What have you got for me, Gregoire?” she hollered at the first trawler.

“Ah, Nita, lovely. I’ve got some large red snapper,” he responded cheerfully and with pride. “Show her, boys.” One of the youthful deckhands expertly hooked his fingers into the gills to hoist a sizeable snapper for inspection. His muscular biceps bulged with the weight of the prized fish.

“Oh, that’s perfect. I’ll take that one. Any seafood?” she enquired after the netted by-catch of small crabs and fish that often fleshed out a spicy curry.

“Only a small amount, I’m afraid. I would’ve kept more if I’d known you wanted it.”

“I’ll take what you have. I don’t need much.” She rested her bike on a coconut tree and sat contentedly next to Gregoire’s wooden shack, knowing she had what she required. Ajay had asked Marlon to catch fresh octopus for the curry, and Marlon would deliver, as always. He was reliable and would do anything for Nita Pape. She had not directly raised Marlon in her house, as with Jonah and Denis, but she had a soft spot for him, losing his parents at such a tender age. As a teenager, when he visited the house with Ajay, she would make sure she fed him until he could eat no more. She was never sure that he ate much at home despite his brothers’ assurances.

By midday, Nita was back at home. Marlon arrived to deliver the requested octopus. He had stopped at the front gate. A lifeless, purplish cephalopod dangled from the handlebars of his bike. “Yes, Mum,” he hollered to alert her to his presence. Marlon would never just walk into the house unannounced.

Such manners, she thought as her heart warmed on hearing his salutation. She was not his mother, but he was one of her boys. Nita greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She quickly took the octopus and deposited it in the kitchen. Despite Marlon’s protestations that he had to hurry back to begin an afternoon guiding trip, Nita loaded his bike basket with packed meals that she had prepared for him before allowing him to go on his way.

The day had gone to plan and, as it neared seven o’clock, she was now in the final stages of completing the meal. Finishing off the preparations, she hummed contentedly. It was the small, thoughtful touches that created sensational meals. Basting the baked snapper with jus one last time to keep it moist, she placed the platter onto the long table. Nita ladled the octopus curry from the cooking pot into a shallow white porcelain serving dish, she fluffed the rice pilaf with a wooden fork and added finely chopped herbs, and then sliced lemons to accompany the fish. Her pride in the perfect meal included both taste and presentation.

“G’day. G’day,” Dink announced as they were on the path in front on Ajay’s parents’ house.

“Hi. Come on in,” Soval and Ajay responded together as they rose from their respective seats. Ajay went out first to greet their guests. Normally, he would wait for Soval, out of respect for him as the head of the household, but his father had not yet met Dink and Kylie.

Ajay radiated his excitement through his exuberant welcome, “Thanks for coming, guys. It’s so good to see you. Let me introduce my parents, Soval and Nita.” Greetings were quickly forthcoming with Dink handshaking heartily and Kylie kissing them all affectionately on the cheek.

Kylie got in first. “Thanks so much for inviting us. You’re so kind. Here, I’ve brought you a little something.” Exquisitely presented small gifts were produced for each of them.

Nita was overwhelmed, and a trifle embarrassed as she was the host of these guests, but she accepted the gifts graciously. “That’s so lovely. How thoughtful of you.” They were placed onto the side table for now.

Dink was going to add, “Normally, I’d bring wine,” but he and Kylie had discussed that as the Pape family did not drink alcohol, they would respect this. Instead, he prompted, “Try stopping her. I have, and it doesn’t work!”

“Please. Please, come on in,” Soval graciously ushered them inside. They all entered the cosy living room together and sat on the couches set in a neat oval arrangement. A large framed picture of Bahá’u’lláh, the Bahai prophet, was displayed prominently on the beige wall, his bearded visage and intelligent eyes benevolently surveying the room.

“Juice?” Nita presented a silver tray of various nectars with accompanying glasses. “Ajay imports them.”

They all chose a glass and were served a drink. Settling back in his soft seat, Dink commented, “You are full of surprises, Ajay. You hadn’t mentioned your juice business.”

Ajay flicked a glance at Soval and seemed embarrassed. “It’s an importing business, trying to catch the trends of what tourists want. It’s not easy, or even lucrative sometimes, but I really enjoy it. I think tourism is the future of the local economy.”

“It’s clever,” Kylie added kindly, noting his unease. “Always good to be ahead of the trends.”

“You always are,” Dink joked, indicating her beautiful but simple flowing dress. The black dress had a delicate white and yellow frangipani print. She had purchased it earlier today at the boutique in La Porte. Kylie blushed at the compliment, but they both knew her style was always ‘on point’.

“You do look lovely, Kylie,” Nita agreed as she busied herself clearing drinks and headed for her kitchen. “I’ll just finish setting the table.”

“May I help,” Kylie offered but was gently waved away by Nita. Kylie had genuinely wanted to assist, and Ajay noted this, explaining jovially, “The kitchen is Mama’s domain. I wouldn’t dare step in there.” Kylie and Ajay exchanged knowing glances that conveyed this was just the way it was.

Not one for idle chat, Soval stated to the room, “I had hoped Ajay would have been university educated and have a profession, but he never seemed that way inclined, or he never applied himself.”

Dink was taken aback by this brutally blunt statement from Soval about his own son. He did appreciate the concept, if not the exact sentiment. “Everyone finds their own path, one way or another. My choices were my own in studying but it’s not for everyone.”

“You studied?” Soval asked, seeming shocked. Dink didn’t always look or act the part.

“Yes. I’m a doctor. I was recently working in Qatar.” At this, Kylie’s head swung around, concerned that Dink could be an open book at times. This was not the time or the place to discuss those events.

Soval was clearly impressed and interested, suddenly leaning towards his guests. “I see. Ajay never mentioned this.”

“I hadn’t told Ajay. It never really came up in conversation.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have a good influence on him.”

Kylie added her honest opinion, “As long as he has a good heart, and Ajay does from what I can see, then things will generally work out for the best.”

Soval was not to be redirected easily, replying, “Maybe, but a kind heart will only get you so far in life. Education is the key to advancement.” Ajay’s drooping face displayed his deflation.

“You are so lucky to be living on such an amazing island.” Kylie sipped her juice, hoping to redirect the conversation.

Soval swivelled to face her directly. He spoke calmly but somewhat sternly, “Even paradise has its limitations.”

Dink could see that Kylie’s hackles were rising and she was about to begin vigorously defending Ajay, and likely put Soval firmly in his place in the process. When she was impassioned, in Dink’s experience, she was not calm or reserved. She would have her say. He was preparing to defuse the situation with a light-hearted comment, but fortuitously, at that instant, Nita reappeared from the kitchen announcing, “Dinner is ready. Please come and help yourselves.” She took Kylie’s arm and gently escorted her onto the large verandah. Nita knew that Ajay’s career was a sore point for her husband, and he could be boorish and cruel about it at times. It was one of his faults, but she had learnt how, and when, to discretely manage the situation.

The food was laid out on a long table covered by an impeccably clean white tablecloth. Sea-blue linen napkins adorned each place setting and two bowls of floating frangipanis nestled amongst the laden dishes and platters.

“Oh, you’ve gone to so much trouble, Nita. It all looks so good.”

“Come now, it was nothing,” she deflected the comment. “Please, eat.”

Dink was hanging back to let the others serve themselves first but, as Kylie and their hosts seemed reluctant to initiate proceedings, he happily obliged. “I don’t need to be asked twice. Thanks, Nita, it looks so delicious. You’ve made so many dishes I don’t know where to start.”

Nita was quietly bursting with pride. “Maybe try a little bit of everything first,” she suggested. “You can always have more.” She was used to feeding hungry men. Nita knew that appetite was important but when good food was presented, overconsumption generally followed. She had gauged Dink well. He definitely had an excellent appetite. With a propensity for gluttony when the meal warranted.

They all served themselves. Nita and Ajay continuously prompted them to take more. Kylie noted that Nita served Soval’s plate herself before she took her own meal. They sat comfortably at the long table and ate ravenously. It was a special and spectacular meal, particularly the octopus curry and the grilled fish, both tender and juicy with complex mixes of spices. Ajay was telling them more about the island’s various charms: the superb beaches, good snorkelling and fishing, the forest paths, the food and culture.

Dink was intent on his food and not closely following the conversation, but he did manage the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. Or maybe it was satisfaction. He paused for breath after another mouthful. “That rice is so tasty. What do you put in it?”

“It’s the leaves from the spice plant,” Nita explained cheerfully, pointing over the verandah rail to a tree in the garden. It was an unimpressive plant, tall and spindly with tiny leaves.

“Of course it is,” Dink effused. “I should have known. This place continually amazes me.”

“It’s actually a pretty common plant, also called curry pili. The leaves are dried and used to make curry powder.” Ajay espoused his extensive local knowledge once again.

Once dinner was finished, and they were all pleasantly sated, Nita offered citronella tea, made from the stalks of the citronella plant in her garden. Kylie and Dink were keen to try it. Nita retired to the kitchen to prepare it.

Following his pre-meal rant, Soval had been relatively subdued during dinner and seemed preoccupied. Ajay noticed this too. “Is everything OK, Papa?”

Kylie thought it cute that he still called his father Papa.

At his direct question, Soval seemed to start back from his distracted state. “Yes. Ajay, I’m fine.” Although he still seemed lost in thought as Nita returned with the teacups and saucers neatly set out on a silver tray. Soval explained, “I’m working on a new project. It could mean big things for me if it comes through. These are exciting times.”

“I didn’t know about this project,” Nita said, genuinely surprised, and her voice quivered slightly.

“It’s still early days. I need to keep it secret,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Even from your wife, Papa?” Nita scolded.

“I didn’t want you to get excited. You are always so positive. I would’ve felt like I let you down if it didn’t happen.” Soval was squirming at the direct questioning and felt stupid that he had said anything at all. He must be more careful. Nita was annoyed that he had not shared this secret with her, but her strong love of her husband blinded her to this fault. “You have never let me down, Papa, so whatever it is I can wait.” She served the tea. “Citronella is an excellent digestive agent. While we sit, let me tell you about how Soval and I met.”

Dink and Kylie listened attentively to their hostess as she set the scene and recounted their chance meeting in London. Dink sipped his citronella tea and found the taste to be slightly bitter, although not unpleasant. What he had not counted on was his immediate and intense visceral reaction. He worried that he may not be able to control his bowels. He sat clenching hard as he tried not to look too uncomfortable. At someone’s home that you had just met, it was an awkward situation. He was distracted and did not really appreciate Nita’s tale but Kylie was attentive enough for both of them. “That is such a wonderful story, and so romantic.”

“Yes. We have been very happy ever since.” Nita glanced towards her husband, who seemed lost in thought once again but managed to respond, “We are both very lucky,” adding quickly, “Nita looks after me but she is also selfless and continues to teach the local girls. She had over a dozen girls in her last class.”

“What do you teach them, Nita?” Kylie asked as Dink held his breath and shifted slightly in his seat. He thought he might be turning blue with the effort of holding everything together.

“Ah, it’s just a group discussion. Girls and women developing self-respect and independence. About making good moral choices in life.”

“That is such a great idea. Very modern.” Kylie was inspired. “Nita, that is so impressive.”

Nita, of course, deflected the compliment, saying, “It’s really just talking together to sort out our problems.”

“Still, it sounds fantastic to me.”

Dink was nearly at his wit’s end and felt he could not take it any longer, interrupting the ongoing conversation, “Thanks so much for having us, Soval and Nita. It’s getting late and we should probably make a move.” As an afterthought, he glanced down at his watch. It was approaching ten-thirty.

“Oh, OK. If you need to go,” Nita said. If only she knew how much he had to go!

Kylie was clearly unimpressed at the need for a sudden departure but could see something was wrong with Dink. She kissed their hosts goodbye, giving Nita a prolonged hug and whispering in her ear, “You are incredible.” Their warm parting smiles spoke of a shared connection.

Ajay offered to walk them home, but Dink declined brusquely as he started off down the path into the forest. It was all Kylie could do to catch up with him. Dink had a head torch on, and this was the only light in the dark forest. He had walked a few hundred metres before slowing down, and Kylie was just walking up to him when he stopped abruptly and erupted with a prolonged episode of explosive flatulence. This was followed by a series of staccato bursts that became less forceful and gradually faded. Dink was doubled over with the effort. He was breathing hard. Kylie now understood why he had left hurriedly and said, “Are you all right?”

“One hell of a lot better now. That citronella tea nearly killed me!” He was dripping with sweat and looked wan in the shadowed torchlight.

“I thought it was quite nice,” she teased.

“Mmm.” His guts were still churning. “Quite the digestive agent!”