CHAPTER 2

The Wrath of Sikkim

Rais was the son of his father’s elder cousin. This branch of the family had gone into the diplomatic service. Rais’s father was an ambassador; they had lived in Cairo, Moscow, and Bhutan during the last three postings. Rais was ten years older, but of a bookish, kindly disposition. He had never bullied Indelbed as a child, and in the past few years he had treated him with regular, albeit flaky, consideration.

Indelbed himself made a point of trying to attend most family gatherings for a number of reasons. One, his presence always created an awkwardness among the elders, particularly as he came alone most of the time, and he enjoyed their consternation and various deliberations on what terrible future awaited him, how his life was being wasted, and, more immediately, who exactly was going to take him home. Two, the food was always good, and any change from home fare was welcome. Three, he often netted a monetary reward from some uncle or other, which he correctly labeled as guilt money.

On this occasion, they were celebrating the Ambassador and his wife’s wedding anniversary. Rais, back from some foreign university, casually confirmed that Indelbed was already ten, a fact not easily discernible given his slight stature, before asking, just as casually, about school. Indelbed, caught by surprise, blurted out the truth. He did not expect this to create any great effect. Rais, however, grew incensed. He started waving his hands and feet around, shouting loudly for his father. Soon they were surrounded by family. There was a heated argument, with wild accusations being fired off by Rais, who, it seemed, was some sort of champion for education, while also holding alarming, revolutionary ideas about overthrowing the family hierarchy.

Indelbed was getting scared. In his experience, garnering too much notice was a sure way of inviting trouble. Finally, the Ambassador took him aside and extracted the details about his daily schedule. It was too late to lie. The case was referred to the patriarchal chief of the Khan Rahman clan, the august Grand-Uncle Sikkim.

Nobody knew why GU Sikkim was named after an Indian state. In fact no one knew why he was so powerful either; the dynamics of the Khan Rahman clan were convoluted. He was a retired businessman who had accumulated a quantity of wealth, tied up mostly in real estate, and with the astonishing rise in land prices, he was making more money in retirement than he ever had in active life. His various alliances tentacled throughout the clan and across the city; he had a keen eye for human faults, possessed an inherent bossiness, and had at his disposal acres of free time.

“Uncle, it is not right that this boy is ten years old and not yet a day in school,” Rais’s father, the Ambassador, said grudgingly, all the while glaring at Rais.

In principle everyone agreed that this was wrong, and the Ambassador was assigned to take the Doctor to task. This was done immediately by telephone, putting the party on hold. Indelbed, quite terrified now, could hear one side of the conversation and easily imagine the rest:

“Kaiko, really, the boy needs to go to school,” said the Ambassador.

I’m better educated than ninety-nine percent of the teachers in this damn country. Whash more, I’ve got no money to throw away on school fees.

“Kaiko, it’s not that much.”

Tell the boy to work for it, if he’s so keen…

The phone call was inconclusive, and the family sat down to properly dissect the situation.

“This school business is well and good, but who is going to pay for it all?” GU Sikkim, with his usual perspicacity, got to the root of the matter. Indelbed took this as a clue as to why the family tolerated the bossiness of GU. He had the ability to save a lot of time during family powwows by cutting straight to the money. His great age shielded him from accusations of crassness or insensitivity.

The Ambassador looked around uncomfortably and murmured something about low government wages. His younger brother, a barrister, said that elementary school was okay, but what about high school and college? That was going to be a hefty bill. With all the consummate skill of his profession, he also simultaneously managed to imply that he certainly was not going to pay.

GU Sikkim took a poll of the thirty-odd “mature heads” present, men and women who carried weight and might make a contribution. Everyone had kids, worthless in-laws, bad loans, unlikely dependents. Most of them lobbed insults at Indelbed, accusing him and his father of wasting an incredible legacy. Astonishment too that all that money had been drunk or gambled away, without a single morsel being kept for a rainy day.

The family storm was now reaching frightening proportions. Indelbed, seated firmly in the middle of the drawing room, held in place by GU Sikkim’s cane, was barely able to keep his tears in check. Tears of shame, mostly, and not a little bit of fear, for he had seen his father in black rages before, when the senile amiability leeched away from his face and something demonic and violent peeped out. In his more lucid moments, the Doctor held his family in contempt equal to what they bore for him, and he would not take kindly to this intrusion.

Who would pay? Even if the money were found, who would take the awful responsibility of finding a school, etc.? What about books, uniforms, all the extra crap schools extorted out of you? The money couldn’t be given to the Doctor; he would surely drink it away.

“And look at this whelp.” GU Sikkim prodded Indelbed. “He’s undernourished. Has iodine deficiency, I think. Probably a stutterer. It’s a disgrace. I say we send him to the village.”

Terror struck Indelbed. He knew about the village. It was where the family sent people who were retarded, mad, or terminally ill. Funnily, there was a fair quantity of these. Madness ran in the genes from multiple sides, apparently.

The Ambassador leaned forward and whispered something in GU Sikkim’s ear.

“What?!” GU exclaimed. “That nonsense again? Are you sure?”

The Ambassador nodded gravely.

“We must keep it secret at all costs! Will Kaikobad bring no end of trouble to us?”

This lamentation had enough genuine merit to elicit a general wail of agreement. Various people remembered anew how the Doctor had embarrassed or inconvenienced them in the past. Indelbed, attuned to public opinion, could feel something sinister at work, however. What had the Ambassador said that needed to be whispered? What new horror was in store for him? He couldn’t imagine anything worse than the village, yet it seemed like the clan had even more hideous repositories for the graceless.

GU dragged him into one of the bedrooms and the Ambassador followed, clearly in discomfort. The door clicked shut. Indelbed stood in the corner, tears flowing freely now. Even his nose was blubbering.

“Stand straight,” GU said, rather meanly.

“Indelbed, beta, has your father ever said anything about why you don’t go to school?” the Ambassador asked.

“No, of course not,” Indelbed said, thinking, Isn’t it obvious? He’s a raving lunatic.

“Does he ever pray or chant things at you?”

“Ye-es,” Indelbed said. “Every night he comes to my room, stands at the doorway, and mumbles things. I pretend to be asleep. He’s drunk all the time, you know that, right?”

“Indelbed, do you have any brands or tattoos or anything?”

“No!” Indelbed knew where this was going, and he certainly was not going to admit to anything.

“Oh, the boy is lying!” GU glared at the Ambassador. “Any fool can see that.”

“Uncle, please.”

Indelbed was terrified now. He stared at the Ambassador, who seemed to be the most likely adult to help him. The Ambassador looked grim. Tears spurted from Indelbed’s eyes. He had never felt so alone.

“All right, fine,” the Ambassador said to GU Sikkim. “It’s late. I’ll take him home.”

“Have a word with Kaikobad while you’re at it,” GU Sikkim said.

“At this hour?” the Ambassador scoffed. “I’ll drop in tomorrow afternoon.”

“Make sure about the other thing. We don’t want to have any more of that kind of trouble,” GU Sikkim said. He glared at Indelbed and lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. “I have my eye on you, you sterile, mongoloid freak. You’ve got tainted blood. Any more trouble and I’ll personally lock you up forever.”