And the ghost reminded me of Cajetan, whom I have not seen since I came to Bombay — what did I say, forty-nine years ago. Once a week the ghost came, and always on Friday. On Fridays I eat fish, so I started thinking, maybe he likes smell of fish. Then I just ate vegetarian, and yet he came. For almost a whole year the ghost slept with me, every Friday night, and Christmas was not far away.
And still no one knew about it, how he came to my bed, lay down with me, tried to touch me. There was one thing I was feeling so terrible about — even to Father D’Silva at Byculla Church I had not told anything for the whole year. Every time in confession I would keep completely quiet about it. But now Christmas was coming and I was feeling very bad, so first Sunday in December I told Father D’Silva everything and then I was feeling much better. Father D’Silva said I was blameless because it was not my wish to have the bhoot sleeping with me. But he gave three Hail Marys, and said eating fish again was okay if I wanted.
So on Friday of that week I had fish curry-rice and went to bed. And believe or don’t believe, the bhoot did not come. After midnight, first I thought maybe he is late, maybe he has somewhere else to go. Then the clock in bats room went three times and I was really worried. Was he going to come in early morning while I was making tea? That would be terrible.
But he did not come. Why, I wondered. If he came to the bedding of a fat and ugly ayah all this time, now what was the matter? I could not understand. But then I said to myself, what are you thinking Jaakaylee, where is your head, do you really want the ghost to come sleep with you and touch you so shamefully?
After drinking my tea that morning I knew what had happened. The ghost did not come because of my confession. He was ashamed now. Because Father D’Silva knew about what he had been doing to me in the darkness every Friday night.
Next Friday night also there was no ghost. Now I was completely sure my confession had got rid of him and his shameless habits. But in a few days it would be Christmas Eve and time for midnight mass. I thought, maybe if he is ashamed to come into my bed, he could wait for me on the stairs like last year.
Time to cook rice now, time for seth to come home. Best quality Basmati rice we use, always, makes such a lovely fragrance while cooking, so tasty.
For midnight mass I left my bedding outside, and when I returned it was two A.M. But for worrying there was no reason. No ghost on any floor this time. I opened the bedding by the stairs, thinking about Cajetan, how scared he was when I said I would tell my father about his touching me. Did not ask me to go anywhere after that, no beaches, no cinema. Now same thing with the ghost. How scared men are of fathers.
And next morning bat opened the door, saying, good thing ghost took a holiday this year, if you had woken us again I would have killed you. I laughed a little and said Merry Christmas, bat, and she said same to me.
When seth woke up he also made a little joke. If they only knew that in one week they would say I had been right. Yes, on New Year’s Day they would start believing, when there was really no ghost. Never has been since the day I told Father D’Silva in confession. But I was not going to tell them they were mistaken, after such fun they made of me. Let them feel sorry now for saying Jaakaylee was crazy.
Bat and seth were going to New Year’s Eve dance, somewhere in Bandra, for first time since children were born. She used to say they were too small to leave alone with ayah, but that year he kept saying please, now children were bigger. So she agreed. She kept telling me what to do and gave telephone number to call in case of emergency. Such fuss she made, I’m telling you, when they left for Bandra I was so nervous.
I said special prayer that nothing goes wrong, that children would eat dinner properly, not spill anything, go to bed without crying or trouble. If bat found out she would say, what did I tell you, children cannot be left with ayah. And then she would give poor seth hell for it. He gets a lot anyway.
Everything went right and children went to sleep. I opened my bedding, but I was going to wait till they came home. Spreading out the saterunjee, I saw a tear in the white bedsheet used for covering — maybe from all pulling and pushing with the ghost — and was going to repair it next morning. I put off the light and lay down just to rest.
Then cockroach sounds started. I lay quietly in the dark, first to decide where it was. If you put a light on they stop singing and then you don’t know where to look. So I listened carefully. It was coming from the gas stove table. I put on the light now and took my chappal. There were two of them, sitting next to cylinder. I lifted my chappal, very slowly and quietly, then phut! phut! Must say I am expert at cockroach-killing. The poison which seth puts out is really not doing much good, my chappal is much better.
I picked up the two dead ones and threw them outside, in Baag’s backyard. Two cockroaches would make nice little snack for some rat in the yard, I thought. Then I lay down again after switching off light.
Clock in bai-seth’s room went twelve times. They would all be giving kiss now and saying Happy New Year. When I was little in Panjim, my parents, before all the money went, always gave a party on New Year’s Eve. I lay on my bedding, thinking of those days. It is so strange that so much of your life you can remember if you think quietly in the darkness.
Must not forget rice on stove. With rice, especially Basmati, one minute more or one minute less, one spoon extra water or less water, and it will spoil, it will not he light and every grain separate.
So there I was in the darkness remembering my father and mother, Panjim and Cajetan, nice beaches and boats. Suddenly it was very sad, so I got up and put a light on. In bai-seth’s room their clock said two o’clock. I wished they would come home soon. I checked children’s room, they were sleeping.
Back to my passage I went, and started mending the torn sheet. Sewing, thinking about my mother, how hard she used to work, how she would repair clothes for my brothers and sisters. Not only sewing to mend but also to alter. When my big brother’s pants would not fit, she would open out the waist and undo trouser cuffs to make longer legs. Then when he grew so big that even with alterations it did not fit, she sewed same pants again, making a smaller waist, shorter legs, so little brother could wear. How much work my mother did, sometimes even helping my father outside in the small field, especially if he was visiting a taverna the night before.
But sewing and remembering brought me more sadness. I put away the needle and thread and went outside by the stairs. There is a little balcony there. It was so nice and dark and quiet, I just stood there. Then it became a little chilly. I wondered if the ghost was coming again. My father used to say that whenever a ghost is around it feels chilly, it is a sign. He said he always did in the field when the bhoot came to the well.
There was no ghost or anything so I must be chilly, I thought, because it is so early morning. I went in and brought my white bedsheet. Shivering a little, I put it over my head, covering up my ears. There was a full moon, and it looked so good. In Panjim sometimes we used to go to the beach at night when there was a full moon, and father would tell us about when he was little, and the old days when Portuguese ruled Goa, and about grandfather who had been to Portugal in a big ship.