The hours crawled by as I watched Doctorji pace around the hut. Many years ago, the market town committee had decided to set up a scheme to aid the local villages by providing them with better medicine. Doctorji had volunteered to administer to the villagers and take what little medicine the market town was able to spare. In all that time, we had always been treated with the utmost respect. Often the villagers would ask us to stay another day because they seldom had visitors. I laughed out loud at the thought of these gentle villagers, who always thought of Doctorji’s more modern methods and medicine as strange, wanting to kill us. I noticed Doctorji had stopped pacing and was staring at me, clearly startled at my laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ Doctorji asked.
‘The thought of these villagers trying to do us harm. It just doesn’t make sense. What could they possibly do to us?’
It was getting dark now. The little barred window let in a beam of moonlight outlining the tracks Doctorji’s pacing had created on the floor. It was a strange and beautiful pattern in a figure of eight. I chuckled again. Typical, I thought. It was just like Doctorji to pace nervously but still maintain a well-ordered pattern. I went to the window and looked out. The moonlight had bathed everything in a silver light and shadows jumped at every turn.
‘It’s not worth thinking about what they could do to us, Bilal. These are strange times. Difficult times. People aren’t behaving how they normally would so we can’t depend on them to behave rationally.’
Doctorji began pacing again as I tried to make sense of what he had said. I stood up and began to pace in the opposite direction.
As the night wore on, I thought of all the terrible things the villagers could do to us. The many ways in which they could harm or kill us. My pacing intensified until I caught up with Doctorji and almost clipped his ankles. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he held me firmly. As we locked eyes, I noticed for the first time the deep lines around his eyes, like little incisions made with a scalpel.
With a grating sound, we suddenly heard the bar being lifted. We froze. Doctorji motioned for me to sit down away from the door and stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips. Two young men walked in with scarves wrapped around their faces. They stopped, whispered something to one another then advanced.
‘Now look,’ said Doctorji, ‘I’ve been coming here for eight years and never have I been treated in this –’
Without warning, the larger of the men slapped Doctorji hard in the face while the other one punched him in the stomach.
‘Shut your mouth, you dog! How stupid do you think we are?’
Stunned, it took me a minute to realise what was going on. I watched in horror as the shorter man produced a stick and raised it high in the air. Yelling, I jumped at him and, taking him by surprise, we both went down in a heap. After the initial surprise, the man recovered and pinned my arms.
‘Look, boy, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to take this stick to your head. Understand?’
Reluctantly, I stopped struggling. Moving off me slowly and pointing the stick at me, he nodded at the other man.
‘We just want to ask some questions. After that we’ll let you go.’
Doctorji was now sitting up but still looked winded. Sucking in deep breaths of air, he held up his hand and agreed. ‘Ask your questions,’ he wheezed.
‘Who sent you?’ asked the larger man.
‘I told you, we were sent by the market town committee. Like always.’
The two men looked at each other, puzzled, and shrugged.
‘Have the Muslims overrun your town? Is that what you’re trying to tell us?’ demanded the smaller man.
‘No, of course not, ’ said Doctorji. ‘What I’m saying is that –’
The smaller man swung the stick in a vicious arc and connected with Doctorji’s nose. I threw myself at him again, grabbing hold of his stick, but he was ready for me this time and, holding my neck with his free hand, he threw me to the ground. The bigger man moved towards me and pinned me against the floor.
‘We know you’re a doctor – some of the villagers here even think you’re a good man – but you don’t fool me. Just tell us how many people there are waiting to attack us so that we can make the necessary arrangements. You’d be saving a lot of bloodshed. Think of that.’
His nose streaming with blood, Doctorji sat upright and tilted his head back.
‘Does it matter what I say, boy? You’ve already made up your mind about why we’re here. I’ve been coming here for eight years to provide medicine and aid for the people of the village. But I’ve never seen you here before, either of you. What are you? Political agitators?’
‘You don’t have to worry about who we are.’
‘No, you’re right, I don’t. Because in six months or a year or however long it takes, I’ll come back here. The villagers will look at me with guilt but you won’t be here, will you? You’ll be gone, feeding off the next frenzy in the next town.’
‘You don’t know what you’re saying, old man. The villagers asked us to come. We’re here to help them find out the truth.’
Bringing his head down and staring at both men, Doctorji smiled, the blood streaming down his nose colouring his mouth and teeth, making him look frightening in the moonlight.
‘Son, my donkey knows more about the truth than you do.’
The men looked at one another and then advanced on Doctorji. The big man also produced a stick and both began to pound him as he curled up into a little ball. Shouting for help, I jumped on the big man’s back but he lifted me off and hit me hard in the face, the force of it flinging me on to the floor. I tried to stand up but the smaller man kicked me in the stomach. Helpless, I watched as Doctorji took the beating without a sound. It was only after they’d stopped that I realised I’d been screaming enough for both of us.
Stepping over me, they pulled open the heavy door and turned round.
‘Look, we tried to help you by giving you a chance but there are others who’ll be here in the morning who aren’t so forgiving.’
Holding my stomach, I watched as they left, slamming the door shut and replacing the bar across it. Doctorji had dragged himself upright. I crawled over to him on all fours and leant heavily against a sack of rice.
‘Are you all right, Doctorji?’
‘No broken bones. I think that was just the warm-up act, though – the real thugs will be here by morning,’ said Doctorji, slowly moving the tip of his nose and wincing.
‘Can’t you just lie to me?’ I asked.
‘Lie? About what?’ he replied incredulously.
‘About what could happen. Tell me everything will be OK.’
‘What’s the point of that?’
‘It would make me feel better,’ I said quietly.
‘Only for a while, until you realise the truth,’ Doctorji said grimly.
‘But by then it wouldn’t matter.’
‘It would matter to me,’ said Doctorji, grimacing in pain as he tried to sit comfortably. ‘There are a few more hours until dawn. It’s no use worrying now. Let’s sit and see what comes.’
Staring at the smudged figure of eight on the dusty floor, my legs felt like they were still moving. A thousand thoughts tried to break free from my head. I have to get home. I need to be near Bapuji. Desperation crept into my mind and the sight of Doctorji sitting opposite me with his shoulders slumped, holding his head in his hands, was almost too much to bear.
‘Doctorji?’
‘Yes, Bilal,’ replied Doctorji without looking up.
‘I need to tell you something . . . about what I’ve been doing recently . . .’
After I’d told Doctorji about the lie, I didn’t feel better or worse. His face stayed passive but I knew he was weighing up what I’d said.
Doctorji didn’t have time to tell me what he thought because there was a scratching sound at the door. I closed my eyes and listened carefully in case my ears were playing tricks on me. There it was again! But Doctorji hadn’t stirred from his thoughtful pose. I quickly moved towards the door and put my ear to it. Doctorji noticed and stood up.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘I heard a scratching at the door. I think there’s somebody on the other side.’
We both put our ears against the door and listened. The scratching sound continued.
‘Hello? Can you hear me?’ I whispered.
‘Hello,’ a little voice whispered from the other side.
‘Hello! Can you tell us what’s happening? What are they going to do to us?’
More silence. I could hear Doctorji’s heartbeat drumming steadily next to me.
‘They think you’re spies. They think that if you’re allowed to leave you’ll go and tell whoever it is to attack us and steal all our women. They think . . .?’
This time the silence was deafening. Now I could hear my own heartbeat thumping inside my chest.
‘They think what?’ I whispered.
‘They think it best if you’re not allowed to leave.’
‘Do you think you can help us?’ Doctorji asked quietly.
‘How can I help you?’ the voice whispered.
‘Can you open this door and let us out?’
There was a shuffling sound outside which stopped suddenly.
Please, don’t leave us here.
‘I’m not tall enough to reach the bar. It’s just out of my reach.’
‘There must be something you can stand on – a barrel or something?’
‘It’s all too heavy for me to move,’ said the voice.
‘And it would make too much noise anyway,’ I added.
‘There must be something you can use,’ said Doctorji. Sensing desperation in his voice, I leant close to the door.
‘It’s OK, take your time. We’re not going anywhere,’ I tried to joke.
Nobody laughed. The light in the hut was changing and dawn was not far away. If we didn’t escape now we might never leave. As we pressed our ears to the door, we heard some more shuffling and then little footsteps running away. I looked at Doctorji in horror at the realisation that we were alone again. He stepped away and, setting his jaw, walked slowly back to his sack of rice. I turned my back on the door and slid down to the floor, head resting in my hands. We were far from home and surrounded by strangers. This was not how I’d thought it would be. I had only ever known the market town. It was where I thought I would live and die. I had been so sure of it that the possibility of anything else was like a slap across my face.
Abruptly, I heard returning footsteps and more shuffling outside the door. Grunting sounds followed and, with a grinding noise that sounded as if it would wake the whole village, the bar was lifted from its resting place. The door was slowly nudged open and there before us was the little girl, standing on the thick, heavy book I’d given her. Smiling, she stepped off the book and very carefully picked it up, blowing the dust off its surface. Doctorji was at my side looking curiously at the girl with my book, then he quickly went to our donkey cart.
‘Why did you come for us?’ I asked.
‘I wanted to give your book back to you like I said I would.’
Doctorji returned hurriedly. ‘We have to go now, before the village wakes.’ He smiled at the girl and went back to the cart.
Kneeling down, I grinned at her. ‘We have to leave now. Thank you so much for your help.’
‘That’s OK. I didn’t want them to hurt you,’ she replied.
‘Thanks to you they won’t. But you mustn’t tell anybody about this and you must go back home and pretend this never happened.’
‘OK.’ And she held the book out in front of me.
‘No, this book is now yours. I give it to you for your help. Just tell them that I forgot it or something. I hope it brings you great pleasure.’
The little girl’s eyes widened in surprise and she held the book close to her chest. I kissed her forehead and ran to the cart. Waving goodbye, we quickly made our way out of the village.