161 A Fishy Funeral (1/2)
When he woke up, Neil was already gone from the shed. Samir lay still for a while, listening to the sounds coming from outside. He could hear the crackle of burning wood and the bubbling of boiling water, and the soft hiss of the ocean. In spite of sleeping for so long, he didn't feel completely rested, and wasn't in the best of moods.
He would have liked to go straight back to sleep, but he needed to relieve himself. He got up and staggered to the shed's entrance on stiff legs and looked outside, squinting at the sunlight.
The caretaker's wife was squatting by the fire, looking at the boiling pot with great disappointment, as if she was blaming it for all the misfortunes of her life. She barely answered Samir's greeting. This wasn't good. Frowning, Samir dropped to squat beside her and asked:
”Where's everybody else?”
”The youngsters went fishing,” she said. ”Jagat and Mitesh went to bury the bodies of the men you've killed.” Jagat was her husband's name, and Mitesh - her brother's.
”Good,” said Samir. It was clear she didn't share this view. He felt like giving her a thump, but he restrained himself. Instead, he asked:
”What's for breakfast?”
”You can have a yam. That's the last few.”
”I'll show you where to find more. Don't worry, you won't starve here. There's plenty of food around here.”
”Mitesh had a fish bone stuck in his throat,” she said, in a tone that indicated eating any of the advertised food was a dangerous occupation.
”Is that why he was coughing last night?”
'Yes.”
”He's all right now?”
”Yes.”
”But you aren't.”
She pouted for a while before saying:
”We need clothes. I am not used to wearing leaves on a string, like a savage.”
”There's plenty of things you'll have to get used to in the New World,” Samir said sharply. He stood up and added:
”And if you want clothes, then make some.”
He left her and walked behind the storage shed and urinated on the dark stains that marked the ground where the bodies of the two men had lain. He wondered where the teacher's husband and her brother had taken the bodies. He also wondered about Neil - had he gone fishing with the youngsters?
He returned to the settlement. The teacher - her name was Devi - still squatted and stared at the boiling pot, blaming it for everything that was wrong. Samir picked up a sharp stick and speared an air potato from the pot and asked:
”Where is the salt?”
”It's all gone.”
”Where's Neil?” he asked.
”He's gone fishing.”
”What about you?”
She looked at him, her face blank.
”What about you?” he repeated. ”Why aren't you doing something? Go and get more salt. You know where it is. Get up! Go!”
She did, after some more shouting. Samir watched her waddle away, feeling hate. Stupid old cow! He forced himself to calm down and ate his meager breakfast and decided there was no time to lose. He would go and find Neil and they would set off for Kulaba right away.
But he couldn't do that! He was a ruler. He had responsibilities! Suddenly and totally unexpectedly, Samir felt a fierce longing for the days when he was a poor squatter, working for peanuts in a shabby office. He missed them! He missed being a Mr Nobody. It had many advantages over being a king.
He was still brooding when Jagat the caretaker, his new mayor, showed up. He was sweaty and dirty and his hands were covered by many new cuts.
”I've come for the flint,” he announced before Samir could berate him for being away for so long.
”The flint? What do you need it for?”
”I need it to light the pyre. We are going to give those men a proper burial.”
”Wait,” said Samir. ”Are you telling me you've built a pyre?”
”Yes. It wasn't difficult. We found a dead tree. That's where we took the bodies.”
”You spent all morning on those two bodies? Looking for wood, and building a pyre? Are you insane?”
Jagat was shocked. He didn't know what to say. He looked sideways and at the ground, everywhere but into Samir's eyes.
”I have appointed you as the leader,” Samir said heavily. ”Your people need food and clothes. And you're messing around with corpses.”
”I spoke to our priest back home. He told me to give them a proper burial.”
”You spoke to your priest back home? What did you tell him?”
Jagat was silent.
”You told him about me? You told him about this place? You told him what happened?”
”Yes.”