Part 18 (2/2)
A woman with a wrinkled face and gray hair walked a bike slowly past them. Blue sky and sun peeked out from among the clouds. The misty air of the morning was gone.
”Everyone seems so casual,” Rasika said. ”I guess it's casual Friday?”
”People in Portland are always like this. No one dresses up.”
Two men in dress s.h.i.+rts and ties approached. As they pa.s.sed by, one of them revealed a backpack, and the other sported a ponytail.
”What should we do now?” Abhay asked.
”Let's have some fun! Isn't that why you moved all the way out here? Because you thought it would be more fun?”
”I moved out here to find meaningful work in a community that cares about the fate of the planet.”
”That sounds so serious.”
”Well, what do you want to do, then?”
”I love water.” Rasika sighed. ”I just want to see something flowing.”
They took a bus down to the riverfront and rented bikes. ”The city tore down a freeway in order to reclaim this green s.p.a.ce,” he explained to Rasika as they stood on the lawn next to the bike path. ”On the other side there's even a floating path to ride on.” He had to shout when talking to her, because although the city had torn down one freeway, there was another one on the other side of the river, roaring with traffic.
”Look at the bridges.” He pointed to the series of arches spanning the river. ”They're so ma.s.sive, and all so different. Like giant sculptures.” One bridge was made up of a series of green arched trusses above the roadway, and another had gray trusses underneath. ”They're so big, so industrial. I mean, I prefer nature, but this is amazing. I sometimes wonder what this river was like when Lewis and Clark arrived. It's hard to even imagine what it looked like then.”
Rasika dangled her purse on a handlebar, and they rode along the path by the Willamette River. ”I haven't been on a bike since I was a kid!” she shouted, wobbling her way down the asphalt. As they approached the black trusses of one of the bridges, Rasika stopped and straddled her bike. ”I'm supposed to ride on that thing?”
”The bike path is lower down, so we won't be up there with the traffic. But if you're afraid, we can just keep riding on this side of the river.”
She boosted herself onto her seat again. ”I'm here for adventure, so let's do it. But you go first.”
On the other side, Abhay stopped and looked back at her. ”You OK?”
She smiled breathlessly. ”Good thing I'm not afraid of heights.”
”I thought it was kind of scary, too, the first time I did it.”
They rode on. The path widened into a small plaza with benches. They parked their bikes and stood next to the handrail. Rasika gazed down at the steel-blue water rippling past, while Abhay gazed at Rasika. She had gathered the end of her ponytail into one fist to keep it from blowing in the breeze. Her sungla.s.ses were perched on top of her head, and her eyelashes dipped over her eyes as she glanced from the water below to the sh.o.r.eline across the river. Behind her head a faint glow appeared and brightened.
”What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.
”Nothing.”
”No, really.”
She took a deep breath and let out a long, slow exhalation. ”I really wasn't thinking about anything. Or-I guess I was just enjoying the idea of flowing, like the river. Just going, and not caring. You're so lucky, Abhay, to be living out here, away from everyone. You can do anything you want.”
”You can live out here and do anything you want, too.”
She leaned her back against the handrail. ”No. It's different for me. Indian parents expect more obedience from their daughters.” She settled her gla.s.ses over her eyes again.
”Seema has a boyfriend,” he said.
Rasika's forehead dented.
”My sister,” Abhay repeated. ”Remember?”
”I know who Seema is.” She removed her ponytail band and shook out her hair.
”She isn't letting my parents stop her from living her own life.”
Rasika shrugged. ”Seema is very different from me.”
”That's true,” Abhay said. Gulls swooped overhead, screeching to one another. A crowd of children swarmed onto the plaza, clambering on the benches, crowding against the railing. A few adults strolled after them. Rasika scooted closer to Abhay along the railing. ”Do you come out here a lot?” she asked.
”Not since I first moved out here. I've been really busy.”
”With what?”
”Work. I'm scheduled for thirty hours a week at the bookstore, and I put in thirty hours with Justin.”
”Why? Is it that expensive to live here that you need to work all the time?”
”I don't have much else to do, so I figured I might as well earn money. I've got a lot saved up now, and it feels good. I have more money in the bank than I've ever had before. I don't even know what to do with it.”
”Abhay.” She lifted her gla.s.ses and looked at him reproachfully. ”You're being silly. You've got this amazing city to play in, and all you do is hole up with books and papers. Is that why you moved out here? To slog away in a bookstore, and to organize papers for a creepy man who smells funny?”
”I moved out here partly to get away from you. I figured if I worked hard enough, I'd forget; I'd be able to move on. But, it's not working.”
”You shouldn't have invited me, then.”
”Are you sorry you're here?”
”I don't want to think about that.” She twisted several strands of hair tightly around her fingers.
He untangled her fingers and kissed her fingertips. ”What do you want to do now?”
She was motionless for a few moments. A gull sailed down and landed on the ground near her. She shook his hand away and regathered her hair into a ponytail. ”Let's get lunch.”
Chapter 12.
They ended up at a casual Pan-Asian place not too far from his neighborhood. He still couldn't figure out his bearings with her. During lunch she asked him all sorts of questions about his life in Portland and his friends in town. He carefully avoided mentioning Kianga and Ellen. He wasn't sure how Rasika would react to the idea that he had women friends.
When they exited the cafe, he had an inspiration. ”I'm going to show you some beautiful old houses in this neighborhood.”
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