Part 19 (1/2)
She had her arms wrapped around herself as she walked. They turned up a side street and stopped outside the iron fence of a large powder-green house amid the apartment buildings and cafes. Two columns of bay windows went up all three floors of the house on either side of the wide stairs leading up to the pillared porch and double doors. An intricate wrought iron fence bordered the yard.
”Take a look at how far back this house goes.” Abhay stepped along the sidewalk until he could see the side of the house. ”It looks like they have a greenhouse back here.” He pointed to a gla.s.sed-in porch at the back of the house, with large houseplant leaves against the windows. ”Maybe they have a separate library room downstairs. And maybe there's an artist's studio on the top floor. Wouldn't you like to live in a house like this?”
Rasika lifted her sungla.s.ses to the top of her head. ”I never thought about living in an old house, although it's very pretty.”
”I like the plaster decorations between the bay windows,” he said. ”And the flower baskets hanging from the porch roof.”
She stood with her hands pulled into the sleeves of her jacket. ”It's right up against everything else. There's a print shop on the other side, it looks like.”
”That's what's great about it. You have this wonderful house, and you can step out your door and go out to eat or see a movie, without even having to get in a car. There are a bunch of big houses around this neighborhood. I like to walk around and look for them.”
”I'd want to live away from everyone.”
”Like on some kind of English manor? That's what the new expensive housing developments are trying to imitate, with their huge lawns and the houses set so far back. They want everyone to feel like they're on their own private little estate. What would you do, away from everyone?”
”I'd invite people over, I guess.”
Abhay laughed. ”You'd live far away from everyone so you could invite them over and have them admire your secluded mansion?”
She rolled her eyes at him.
He took a step closer to her and put an arm around her waist. ”What would it be like if the two of us lived in this house? If we were married?”
She nudged him away. ”I can't marry you, Abhay.”
”Why not?”
”Because you're not the kind of man I want. You're too young, for one thing.”
”I'm only a year younger than you.”
”Well, you act like a boy. If I were as smart as you, I'd go back to school and get a degree so I could have a really great job. It's not just about making a lot of money. You could get a job where you'd be someone in the world, and make an impact. I don't understand why you're letting yourself work at these menial jobs. It's like-you're not grown-up, Abhay. You're still playing around.”
”When I was a kid, my mom would give me my allowance and then take me over to the discount store, but I could never choose anything until Mom threatened to leave. And then I'd always feel sad in the car, with my toy, because I couldn't have all the other toys, too.” He laughed at this memory.
”You're still being like that. Except your mom's not here to threaten you, so you haven't chosen anything yet. If you don't pick something, you'll never get anywhere. That's why I'm going to get married. I know I can't have every man in the world. I can only have one.”
”So if I pick a good career, then you'd marry me?”
”Why do you keep talking about marrying me?”
”I love you. You love me. It makes sense.”
”I don't love you.”
”Rasika, you came all the way out here to see me. You've never traveled anywhere alone before.”
”I just needed a break from my life.”
”Then why did you choose to come out here? You could have gone anywhere.” He unwrapped one of her arms and placed her hand against his heart. ”If you want to get away from your life, why don't you stay here for a while? Portland's full of interesting things to do. Maybe you'd like to get involved with watercolor painting, or beading, or self-defense. We have movies, music, lectures. You can take all sorts of exercise cla.s.ses. You can learn j.a.panese flower-arranging, and how to read tarot cards. You can even go shopping every day, if that's what turns you on. And then we can decide later about our future. I know your freedom is really important to you. Just let yourself be free for once.” He slipped his fingers into her coat sleeve and stroked her wrist and forearm.
”I've got enough freedom as it is.”
”You've spent your life trying to fit into an impossible situation, being Indian in America. Just come out here, and figure out what you really want.”
”You sound like my friend Jill. She wants us to run away to some tropical island together. But my parents would never leave me alone.”
”You have to train them to leave you alone. Don't answer their phone calls for a while. They'll get the idea.”
She pulled her hand away. ”I can't. They'd be on my case all the time if I were single and living on my own. And I could never marry you. My father-”
”He'll get over it.”
”No.” She stamped her foot like a child. ”Let me finish. You're from a different caste. My father is very proud to be a Brahmin, and he says he could never accept it if I married someone who isn't.” She looked down.
”You don't agree with your father?”
She shook her head. ”I don't know what caste you are, and I don't care.”
”I personally don't think of myself as belonging to any caste.” He spoke gently, hoping to soothe her. ”My parents consider themselves Vaishyas, the traditional caste of business and trade. It's the caste Mahatma Gandhi belonged to, and that's pretty much all I know. Anyway, even in India, things are changing. Lots of people are marrying outside of their caste. One of my uncles married someone from college who was of a completely different caste, and everyone's been fine with it.”
”Not in my family. Things are different for me. That's why I've decided to go ahead and get married the way they want me to.” Rasika's hands were inside her jacket sleeves again.
Abhay put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wrought iron fence. Down the street, a hairy man in athletic shorts and hiking boots clumped closer and closer. Rasika stared at the man as he tramped past.
”This is why I can't stay in Portland.” She jabbed a finger at the man's receding back. ”I'd forget how to dress and wind up in faded jeans and hiking boots all the time.”
He smiled. ”Come on. I'll show you the bookstore where I work, and then we'll get some bubble tea. I bet you've never had that before.”
”I'm so tired.” Rasika sank onto one of the rows of brick steps surrounding the open, empty oval s.p.a.ce. She felt a pleasant ache all over her body. She was content to sit and rest. ”We must have gone all over this city in one day. What is this place, anyway?”
”It's just a community s.p.a.ce.” Abhay sat on the step beside her. ”There's the courthouse on that side.” He pointed to a large gray building across the way, with two wings and what looked like a little bell tower in the middle of the roof. ”They have different events and fairs here.”
Right now the place was almost deserted. Dusk gathered around them. A few people sat on the steps across the courtyard, reading or just sitting in the fading light. To her left down below was a small circular pond with a bridge across it leading to a set of gla.s.s doors. ”Is that the entrance to a store?” Rasika asked.
”That's the TriMet office,” Abhay said. ”You can get public transportation pa.s.ses and maps there. Stuff like that.”
She looked away from the promising gla.s.s doors, which now held nothing of interest.
”You look like a picture,” Abhay said. ”Or a statue. You're so still.”
She sat with her elbow on a knee, hand supporting her chin. He slid closer to her on the step and put an arm around her. She leaned against him. She felt empty and light, as though the weight of her life had dropped away.
Nearby, at the bottom of the steps, a bearded man lifted a violin out of its case. He tucked it under his chin, closed his eyes, put the bow to the strings, and drew out a melody that sounded meloncholy and happy at the same time.
Abhay stood up and held out a hand to Rasika. ”Let's dance.”
”Not right now.” She stayed put on the step. ”There's no one else dancing. People will look at us.”
”So what? Come on. No one knows us here.” He pulled her up, and they descended to the vast brick-floored s.p.a.ce. He put a hand at her waist and took her right hand in his left. Rasika tried to make her pink sneakers follow his sandals, but they kept stumbling over each other. She giggled quietly and glanced over at the violin player, who still had his eyes closed.