Asha knocked at the first house and a smiling woman stepped out to welcome them. She introduced herself as Nisha and when they asked about staying with them, she regretfully admitted that three of the houses were quite full of the fishermen’s families. But there was room in the fourth house. Nisha winced and wrung her hands, and fell silent.
“What’s wrong?” Priya asked. “Who lives in the fourth house?”
2
Nisha led them closer to the water. They could see a handful of little boats far out on the lake and off to their left Asha saw more than a dozen small children wading and splashing and running through the shallows as they chased frogs and hunted for snails. Nisha pointed to the right around the edge of the last house and Asha saw a pair of legs dangling off the porch into the water, back in the shadows.
“Who is that?”
“Rama.” Nisha sat down on the grassy bank and motioned for them to join her. “Poor Rama.”
Asha tugged Priya’s sleeve and they sat down beside her. “Why poor?”
“He was just such a nice young man with a lovely young wife. He built that house himself. He wouldn’t let anyone help him.” Nisha smiled. “He has such a nice smile.”
Asha nodded. “But?”
“But she died.” Nisha sighed. “Vina, his wife. She took ill during the rainy season a few months after they built the house. Rama was devastated. He just sat there in his house and stared at the lake. He barely fed himself. I was so worried, we all were. And then he began taking off at strange hours. He would disappear for days and later we learned that he was going into town to sit in the temple and stare at the images of Lakshmi. Poor boy.”
“So he’s in mourning?” Priya asked. “Would our company be more helpful or harmful, do you think?”
“Oh, he’s not in mourning,” Nisha said. “Not anymore. About seven or eight months after Vina died, Rama was out on the lake fishing by himself. We heard him cry out. It was a strange cry. A bit of surprise, a bit of pain. It only lasted a moment, but after that he stayed out there all afternoon, just sitting there. Eventually my husband paddled out to check on him and found that Rama was blind.”
Priya leaned her head to one side. “How?”
“We don’t know. He says he was just sitting in his boat, working his nets, when suddenly everything went white and he couldn’t see anymore.” Nisha nodded over at the last house again. “But that’s when everything changed for him. Rama stopped spending all his time alone. He eats with us in the evenings, laughs, and tells stories from his home village to the east of here. And he still fishes by himself. He ties his boat to the dock with a long line so he can pull himself back again when he’s done.”
Asha frowned. “He was mourning his dead wife, but then he suddenly went blind and now he’s happy?”
Nisha shrugged. “It seems so.”
Priya touched Asha’s arm. “Is that bad?”
“I don’t know if it’s bad, but it is strange.” Asha picked up a pebble and slowly turned it over in her hands.
“Maybe there’s something you can do for him,” the nun urged. “I’m sure you know of something that could restore his vision at least.”
Nisha cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. “If you can cure the blind, then why…?”
Priya smiled and touched the cloth covering her lifeless eyes. “I’m a bit of a special case. But Asha can do amazing things with a few twigs and leaves and seeds.”
“You’re a doctor?” Nisha asked. “Can you help him?”
Asha scowled and threw her pebble into the lake where it splashed down with a deep plop. “I’m an herbalist. But I’ll see what I can do.”
3
Asha approached the last house slowly, taking heavy steps in the thick grass to announce her presence to the man sitting with his feet in the water. He was tying knots in an old fishing net, weaving fresh jute strings among the old. His fingers paused in their little dance as he leaned his head toward her, just for a moment, and then he resumed his work. “Hello there. Nisha?”
“Hello yourself. I’m Asha. Nisha said to remind you that she’s baking catfish tonight.”
“I can smell the pepper already,” he said.
Asha smelled it too, though she suspected the pepper wind was blowing from the town to the south from some vast storehouse where soft hills of peppercorns and pepper grounds waited to be carted off to other cities. Though some small trace of the scent might have come from the sand ovens of the neighboring houses. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Please.” He slid over to make more room on the narrow walkway at the water’s edge. Asha waded into the shallows and sat down on the warm wooden seat. The lake sparkled brightly as the westering sun glanced off the tiny waves, shining in brilliant silver and gold.
She took a small pouch from her bag. “Ginger?”
“No, thank you.”
She poked a tender sliver into the corner of her mouth and began to chew as she examined the man more closely. She had expected someone younger, or thinner, or older, perhaps with tufts of white hair on his shoulders or a spotty beard, a weak chin, or gnarled hands. She had no idea why she had thought he would have any of those things, but when she first saw the cluster of houses on the edge of the lake, she had not thought to find a man who looked like this.
Rama was tall and lean, and hard muscles rippled under his smooth skin as his hands worked. She didn’t see a hair on him except for the thick black waves hanging from his head to his shoulders, and the dark shadow on his chin. He wore mud-spattered cotton trousers and a colorless shirt of the same material lay at his side, pinned under a small stone. Instead of wearing a blindfold, Rama merely kept his eyes closed. Not squinting, not half-lidded. Just closed, as though he was only resting his eyes and at any moment he might opened them again.
She saw the long black lashes skirting his lidded eyes, and the sharp black brows stretching above them, and the sharp brown cheek bones below them. And his smooth cheeks, and his long straight nose, and his strong square jaw.
And his lips. Asha inhaled slowly, hoping to catch some of his scent, hoping to hear some quickening in his heart. Her eyes lingered on his lips.
His lips moved. “That’s a strange habit you have.”
Asha blinked and turned back to gaze at the lake. “What?”
“Chewing ginger. I haven’t heard of that.” He smiled, his face still angled down toward his nets, his fingers still dancing through their knots.
“Oh. Just something I picked up when I was younger. It’s good for a lot of things, which is important in my line of work.”
“Which is?”
“Medicines.”
“The Ayurveda?”
It was Asha’s turn to smile. “Yes, among other things. You’ve studied?”
“Me? No. No, I just listen. I listen to everyone, wherever I go. You learn to listen really well when you can’t see.”
“I know a little something about listening,” she said. “A dragon bit me once because I didn’t listen when I should have.”
“A dragon? Really?”
“Oh, yes.” She touched the scaly skin of her right ear. “I also have a blind friend with me who knows how to listen pretty well. Maybe later you two can trade techniques and secrets for eavesdropping on me.”
He smiled a little wider. “I’d be honored. So, are you on your way into town?”
“No. Well, maybe later. In a few days. I thought I might stay here and explore the lake for a while to see what’s growing around here. There might be something I can use.” She glanced up at the fiery tips of a palash tree reaching out toward the lake above them. “And if not, then at least I can enjoy these trees and the water for a few days. We’ve been in the hills for ages, or so my feet are telling me.”
Rama nodded. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here. There’s plenty of room. I live alone. And I don’t mind sleeping outside.”
“Thank you. We’d be honored to be your guests. But please stay inside. I wouldn’t dream of…” She trailed off.