The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

He opened the door, saw her, and smiled.

'Bati!' He came over as if to put his arm around her shoulders, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he ran a finger along her cheek. Kolabati willed herself not to shrink from his touch. He spoke in Bengali. 'You're looking better every day.'

'Where were you all night, Kusum?'

He stiffened. 'I was out. Praying. I have learned to pray again. Why do you ask?'

'I was worried. After what happened—'

'Do not fear for me on that account,' he said with a tight smile. 'Pity instead the one who tries to steal my necklace.'

'Still I worry.'

'Do not.' He was becoming visibly annoyed now. 'As I told you when you first arrived, I have a place I go to read my Gita in peace. I see no reason to change my routines simply because you are here.'

'I wouldn't expect such a thing. I have my life to lead, you have yours.' She brushed past him and moved toward the door. 'I think I'll go for a walk.'

'Like that?' His eyes were racing up and down her minimally clad body. 'With your legs completely exposed and your blouse unbuttoned?'

'This is America.'

'But you are not an American! You are a woman of India! A Brahmin! I forbid it!'

Good—he was getting angry.

'You can't forbid, Kusum,' she said with a smile. 'You no longer tell me what to wear, what to eat, how to think. I am free of you. I'll make my own decisions today, just as I did last night.'

'Last night? What did you do last night?'

'I had dinner with Jack.'

She watched him closely for his reaction. He seemed confused for an instant, and that wasn't what she expected.

'Jack who?' Then his eyes widened. 'You don't mean—?”

'Yes. Repairman Jack. I owe him something, don't you think?”

'An American—!'

'Worried about my karma? Well, dear brother, my karma is already polluted, as is yours— especially yours—for reasons we both know too well.' She averted her thoughts from that. 'And besides,' she said, tugging on her necklace, 'what does karma mean to one who wears this?'

'A karma can be cleansed,' Kusum said in a subdued tone. 'I am trying to cleanse mine.'

The sincerity of his words struck her and she grieved for him. Yes, he did want to remake his life; she could see that. But by what means was he going about it? Kusum had never shied away from extremes.

It suddenly occurred to Kolabati that this might be the moment to catch him off guard, but it passed. Besides, better to have him angry. She needed to know where he would be tonight. She did not intend to let him out of her sight.

'What are your plans for tonight, brother? More prayer?'

'Of course. But not until late. I must attend a reception hosted by the UK Mission at eight.'

'That sounds interesting. Would they mind if I came along?'

Kusum brightened. 'You would come with me? That would be wonderful. I'm sure they would be glad to have you.'

'Good.' A perfect opportunity to keep an eye on him. Now...to anger him. 'But I'll have to find something to wear.'

'You will be expected to dress like a proper Indian woman.

'In a sari?' She laughed in his face. 'You must be joking!'

'I insist! Or I will not be seen with you!'

'Fine. Then I'll bring my own escort: Jack.'

Kusum's face darkened with rage. 'I forbid it!'

Kolabati moved closer to him. Now was the moment. She watched his eyes carefully.

'What will you do to stop it? Send a rakosh after him as you did last night?'

'A rakosh? After Jack?'

Kusum's eyes, his face, the way the cords of his neck tightened—they all registered shock and bafflement. He was the consummate liar when he wished to be, but Kolabati knew she’d caught him off guard, and everything in his reaction screamed the fact that he didn't know.

He didn't know!

'There was one outside his apartment window last night!'