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By Root 1183 0

Karachi, you name it. Never had one from Africa before. I thought you'd look different. Let me tell you, we worked them all hard. But they gave us their best. They learned a lot here. I love ‘em all. Love their food. They even got me to love cricket. I'm nuts about it. Listen, baseball has nothing on cricket. My boys are out there now,” he said, pointing over the walls. “Raking in the dough in Kentucky or South Dakota—wherever they need docs bad. Dr. Singh sent me a plane ticket to fly to El Paso for his daughter's wedding. He comes to see me if he's in New York. We have an Old Boys Eleven that plays us every year. The Old Boys built us a new cricket pitch and batting nets. They're proud to be ‘Pee Esses’—Perpetual Suckers is what we call our alums. They'll drive up here in fancy cars. I tell them, ‘Don't put on airs for me. I remember when you didn't know your ass from your elbow. I remember when we could hardly understand a word you said. Now look at you!’ “

I was impressed by what I could see of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. The hospital was L-shaped, the long limb seven stories high, overlooking the street, a wall separating it from the sidewalk. The short limb was newer and just four stories high with a helicopter parked on top. The tiled roof of the older section sagged between the chimneys while the middle floors pushed out gently like love handles. The decorative grille under the eaves had oxidized to a bile green, old corrosion ran down the brick like mascara, parallel to the drainpipes. A lone gargoyle jutted out on one side of the entrance, its twin on the other side reduced to a faceless nub. But for me, fresh from Africa, these were not signs of decay, merely the dusting of history.

“It's grand,” I said to Mr. Pomeranz.

“It's not much, but it's home,” Mr. Pomeranz said, gazing at the building with obvious affection.

Undoubtedly, there were other hospitals that were newer and bigger, at least as depicted in their brochures. But you couldn't trust a brochure, I was discovering.

Fifty yards to the side of the hospital stood the two-story house staff quarters to which he led me. On the glass door to its lobby, someone had taped a handwritten sign in thick black felt-tip pen on yellow legal paper.

India Versus Australia, 2nd Test At Brisbane

Special Cable Viewing In B. C. Gandhi's Room

(Pakistanis, Sri Lankans, Bangladeshis, and West Indians welcome,

but if you cheer for Australia management reserves the right to eject you.)

Friday Night, July 11, 1980, 7 p.m.

($10 a person and bring drink and non-veg dish, repeat, non-veg dish only.

If it didn't move before it was cooked, we don't want it!!!

Single ladies free and chairs provided.

If you bring spouse, $10 extra and bring your own chair.)

B. C. Gandhinesan M.D.,

Captain Our Lady's Eleven,

Cricket Commissioner, Our Lady of Perpetual Succour

In the lobby I registered coriander, cumin—the familiar scents of Almaz's kitchen. On the stairs I inhaled the very brand of incense that Hema lit each morning. I heard the faint drone on the second-floor landing of “Suprabhatam” sung by M. S. Subbulakshmi and the sound of a bell being rung, as someone in some other room did their puja. I felt a twinge of homesickness. We paused for Mr. Pomeranz to get his breath. “We had to put industrial-size fans in the hoods above the cooking stoves on both floors. Had to! When they start cooking that masala, forget about it!”

A tall, good-looking Indian man with long hair still wet from the shower came bounding down the stairs. He had big strong teeth, a winning smile, and an aftershave that smelled simply wonderful. (I found out later it was Brut.)

“B. C. Gandhinesan,” he said sticking out his hand.

“Marion Stone.”

“Excellent! Call me B.C. or Gandhi,” he said squeezing my hand. “Or call me Captain. Do you—?”

“Wicketkeeper,” Pomeranz said, triumphantly. “And opening batsman.”

B. C. Gandhi struck his forehead and staggered back. “God is great! Wonderful! Can you keep wickets for a pace bowler? A genuine fast bowler?”

“That's the kind I like best,” I said.