“Those people?”
“Yeah, you know, niggers.”
Eric stared at the man. His belly hung over his belt, concealing it from view, and though he was probably in his late fifties or early sixties he still wore a large, red high school graduation ring. Eric glanced back to the little woman looking out her little window and wondered what devils the driver must see to be afraid of that. “Let me off here,” Eric said, standing up.
“See ya,” the driver said as Eric stepped off the bus.
Eric didn’t look back at him and didn’t say anything, he just started walking. He was awhile from where he wanted to go but didn’t feel like being on the bus anymore. Besides, New Hampshire had extremely long, harsh winters so you had to soak up the summer months as much as you could.
The university campus wasn’t more than a mile away but Eric decided to stop by a local pizzeria where he thought Jason might be. The place was dimly lit and had red brick interior walls, posters of John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan spaced every few feet. A large jukebox was in the corner playing a Police song. The black and red checkered tables were packed with college students, nibbling on pizza and guzzling beer. The conversations were loud and every once in a while a group would erupt with laughter.
Eric took a table in the corner and ordered a large Heineken. It came back quickly, the suds overflowing from the icy glass. The beer stung as it went down his throat. He drank it like it was water and ordered another. He didn’t drink often and he didn’t even feel like it now. It just seemed appropriate somehow.
“Jesus do you look pathetic,” a voice said. “Sitting here drinking all by your lonesome.”
Eric looked up to see Jason’s smiling countenance. He was dressed in his Sunday best of shorts, a t-shirt and a Red Sox baseball cap. He sat down next to him and put his arm around Eric’s shoulders. “I thought you’d be out with Wendy right now?” Jason said. “My father’s dead Jason,” Eric said flatly, not in the mood for small talk. Jason’s smiling face went solemn. “You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Jimmy?” “He died in India. They’re bringing back his body for burial.” “Jesus Christ. Fuck me. We were just talking about him yesterday.” Eric sipped his beer. Jason looked out over the crowd. He never enjoyed reflection, but felt that it was required right now.
“Shit I loved him too,” Jason said. “You remember the first night at the dorms? He took us out to a bar and ended up going home with our waitress?” Jason said with a laugh. “Fucking classic your dad.” Jason squeezed Eric’s shoulder and stood up. “You gonna be all right?”
“I’ll be all right.”
The smile and glint of mischief returned to Jason’s eyes. “Look, nothin’ makes a man forget his worries like pussy.” He grabbed Eric’s beer and gulped down the rest, leaving only suds. “Not even booze.”
“I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“Come over to our table,” he said, motioning to a round table with one other guy and three girls. “We’re about to get drunk and those girls are gettin’ rowdy.” “Not tonight, Jas.” Jason called over the waitress, ordering another large beer for Eric. “I’ll see ya at home.” “Yeah,” Eric said.
Eric watched Jason flirt with the girls at the table. There was one in particular he seemed interested in, a brunette wearing a short skirt and denim jacket. She had beauty to her, but as Eric watched her, he noticed it was only a superficial beauty. Like something uglier underneath had been painted over. She had dark bags under her eyes and bruises on her upper arms. She drank as if the booze didn’t bother her, guzzling one beer after another. She seemed to be paying attention to Jason, nodding at his comments and laughing at his jokes. But there was a sense that any other man in the room could’ve been there and she’d be doing the exact same thing.
She looked over to Eric and smiled. Eric looked away, finished his beer, and walked out.
He left the pizzeria half-drunk. He stopped at a playground and pissed on a tree before continuing to the dorms. There was a party going on upstairs and the music boomed through the thin walls, the bass rattling the few items of furniture he and Jason shared.
He’d forgotten about that first night at the dorms, how quickly his father had picked up the waitress who was decent looking at best. James had always been in love with one woman or another; falling hard one week and growing bored the next. It was the reason his parents got divorced. In a way, Eric understood it. Man had just one life and wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. But James wasn’t around to hear his wife crying herself to sleep every night; Eric was. They said infidelity was a victimless crime but Eric didn’t believe that anymore.
One day when he was ten, he remembered walking in on his father and another woman. His father quickly covered the woman up with a white sheet and only her toes stuck out from the bottom. Eric asked who that was and his father said nobody and told him to get out. Unsure what was going on, Eric shut the door and left. His father came to him later that day and told him it was best not to tell his mother of such things. That his father hadn’t done anything wrong, but his mother liked to get mad sometimes and it wouldn’t be good to have her mad, would it? Eric agreed and never told his mother. Sometimes, when he heard his mother cry at night after the divorce, he wondered how much of it was his fault and it gave him a sick, gray feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Thoughts of his childhood and his parents swirled in his mind as he lay in the dark and before long he drifted off to sleep. The last thing he felt was remorse; the funeral would be in a few days, and it was going to be the last time he would get to see his father.
CHAPTER
8
Andhra Pradesh has often been a top destination for thrill seekers and tourists. With its diverse landscapes, masses of animals found in few other places, and breathtaking sunsets, some have found it a prime vacation spot despite it being in a second world country with little stability.
Near the city of Kavali are a string of houses owned by wealthy investors-usually European and American real estate moguls or investment firms-leased to vacationers for periods of one week to one month. The houses are far apart from one another, enough so that vacationers can enjoy their privacy but still have others nearby should they require something.
A family stepped onto the porch of one of the homes. The two boys ran into a nearby patch of jungle, yelling and laughing. Their mother was a slim woman in a white dress, straw hat pulled down to cover her eyes from the scorching sun. Her husband wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a kiss on the neck as they watched the boys run around. “I can’t believe we actually found someplace they like,” the man said. “I like it too,” she said. “The locals are a hassle though.” “They’re all right, just trying to make a buck like anyone else.” “Are you kidding? They totally crashed our picnic trying to sell us that cheap shit.” The man shrugged. “What you feel like doing?” “Let’s go in to town and have a drink.” “What about the kids?” “They don’t ID here, no one’s gonna care.” The man kissed her neck again and nibbled on her ear, causing her to giggle and pull away. “I’ve got to shower and change,” the man said, opening the door to the living room. “Don’t take too long.” “I won’t.”
The woman sat down on a wooden bench and looked out over the vast expanse before her. There was a large patch of grass in front of the house with a path through it that led to the road back to Kavali on one side and into the dense jungle on the other. A tree was near the house, large with twisted, leafless branches. This was a pretty place she decided, but just too damn hot and humid.
It suddenly became apparent to her that she couldn’t hear the boys anymore. Scanning the grass, she couldn’t see any movement. “Friedrich,” she yelled, “Steven, don’t go far. You hear me boys?”