A House for Mr. Biswas - V.S. Naipaul [253]
The watchers held their breath.
Joviality fled from the table, Shekhar studied his cards. Owad frowned at his. His foot was tapping on the concrete floor. More watchers came.
Anand felt his ears burning. He looked hard at his cards, feeling the silence that had spread to all parts of the house. He was aware of watchers coming, Savi, Myna, Kamla. He was aware of Shama.
Owad breathed heavily and swallowed noisily.
When Shekhar bid his voice was low, as though he wished to take no part in the struggle. Vidiadhar, Shekhar’s partner, bid in a voice choked by saliva; but there was no mistaking the voice of the free, unoffending man.
Anand bid stupidly.
Owad pressed his teeth far below his lower lip, shook his head slowly, tapped his feet, and breathed more loudly. When he bid, his voice, full of anger now, suggested that he was trying to redeem a hopeless situation.
The game dragged on. Anand played worse and worse. Shekhar, as though doing it against his will, gathered in trick after trick.
Owad’s breathing and swallowing made Anand feel choked. His back was cold: his shirt was wet with perspiration.
At last the game was over. Neatly, deliberately, Shekhar noted the score. They waited for Owad to speak. Shuffling the cards, though it was not his turn, breathing heavily, he said, ‘That’s what we get from your genius.’
The tears rushed to Anand’s eyes. He jumped up, throwing his chair backwards, and shouted, ‘I didn’t tell you I was any blasted genius.’
Slap! His right cheek burned; then trembled, even after Owad’s hand was removed, as though the cheek had had to wait before registering the blow. And Owad was standing and Shekhar was bending down, picking up the cards from the dusty floor. And slap! his left cheek burned and trembled heavily. He forgot the watchers, concentrating only on the breathing before, the rising of the white-shirted chest. Owad’s chair was overthrown. And Shekhar, leaning awkwardly on the table, his chair pushed back, was looking at the cards as he let them fall from one palm to another, his brow furrowed, his top lip swelling over the lower.
The table was jerked aside. Anand found himself standing ridiculously upright, half blinded by the shaming tears. Owad was striding energetically to the front steps. And then Anand had time to take in the thrill, the satisfaction of the watchers, the silence of the house, with Govind’s singing in the background, the noise of some children in the street, the roll of a car from the main road.
Shekhar still sat at the table, playing with the cards.
A mumble came from the watchers.
‘You!’ Anand turned to them. ‘What the hell are you standing up there for? Puss-puss, puss-puss all the blasted night, talk-talk-talk.’
The effect was unexpected and humiliating. They laughed. Even Shekhar lifted his head and gave his grunting laugh, shaking his shoulders.
Shama’s gravity made her almost absurd.
The watchers broke up. Everyone went back to his task. A lightness that was like gaiety spread through the house.
Shekhar stacked the cards neatly on the table, rose, put his hands on Anand’s shoulders, sighed, and went upstairs.
They heard Owad moving about from room to room.
Anand found Mr Biswas lying in vest and pants on the bed, his back to the door, papers on his drawn-up knees. He said without turning, ‘You, boy? Here, see if you can work out these blasted travelling expenses right.’ He passed the pad. ‘What’s the matter, boy?’
‘Nothing, nothing.’
‘All right, just work those figures out. Everybody else making a fortune out of their cars. I sure I losing.’
‘Pa.’
‘Just a minute, boy. Ought oughts are ought. Two fives are ten. Put down ought. Carry one.’ Mr Biswas was relaxed, and even clowning: he knew that his method of multiplying always amused.
‘Pa. We must move.’
Mr Biswas turned.
‘We must move. I can’t bear to live here another day.’
Mr Biswas heard the distress in Anand’s voice. But he was unwilling to explore it. ‘Move? All in good time. All in good time. Just waiting for the revolution and my dacha.’
These happy moods of his father were getting