Last Man in Tower - Aravind Adiga [108]
Thinking they had heard about his visit to the lawyer, Masterji said: “It is my right: it is my right as a citizen to see a lawyer.”
“He doesn’t know yet,” Ram Khare shouted. “Let him go in and see. Please. It is a difficult hour for the Society.”
Ajwani removed his hand from the latch. As Masterji walked in, the guard said: “I told you, Masterji, that this would happen. God has seen that I have done my duty.”
He saw people standing around the plastic chairs: the two Pintos were the only ones sitting down. Mr. Pinto’s foot was bandaged, and it was propped up on a cushion. Mrs. Puri was dabbing Mrs. Pinto’s forehead with a wet end of her sari.
When she saw Masterji, she let out a sharp cry: “Here comes the madman!”
Ajwani and the Secretary, along with Ibrahim Kudwa, walked behind Masterji.
“What happened to you, Mr. Pinto?”
“Look at him, asking!” Mrs. Puri said. “Does this thing and pretends not to know about it. Tell him, Mr. Pinto. Tell.”
On her command, the old man spoke: “He said he was going to hurt … my wife—at her age—old enough to be his grandmother. He … said he was going to come with a knife next time … he … and then I got frightened and fell into the gutter.”
“Who told you this?” Masterji knelt to be at eye level with his oldest friend. “When did this happen?”
“Just outside the gate … Shelley and I were walking … it must have been four o’clock, and then I heard this puppy whimpering, and I went outside, and got down into the gutter to save the puppy. Then this boy, he had a gold chain on his neck, eighteen-nineteen years old, and a hockey stick with him, he stood over me and said, ‘Are you the man from Vishram who wants nothing?’ And I said, ‘Who are you?’ And then … he put the stick on top of my head and he said, ‘Next time, it will be a knife ….’ ” Mr. Pinto swallowed. “… And then he said, ‘Do you understand now, what it means, to want nothing?’ And then I turned and tried to run but I fell into the gutter and my foot ….”
“We had to take him to Doctor Gerard D’Souza’s clinic on the main road,” Mrs. Puri said. “Thank God, it’s just a sprain. Doctor D’Souza said at his age he could have broken his foot. Or something else.”
Mrs. Pinto, unable to hear more, sank her face into Mrs. Puri’s blouse.
Masterji stood up.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Pinto. I’ll go to the police at once. I’ll tell them to arrest Mr. Shah. I taught the sons of some of the constables. You don’t worry.”
“No,” said Mr. Pinto. “Don’t go again.”
“No?”
The old accountant shook his head. “It’s all over, Masterji.”
“What is all over?”
“We can’t go on like this. Today my foot is hurt, tomorrow ….”
Leaving the papaya on the ground, Masterji stood up.
“You must be brave, Mr. Pinto. This Shah cannot threaten us in daylight.”
Mrs. Pinto pleaded with her face and fingers. “Please, Masterji, let’s forget about this. Let’s just sign Mr. Shah’s document and leave this building. I began all this by saying I didn’t want to go. Now I tell you, it’s over. Let’s go. You come and have dinner with us this evening. We’ll eat together.”
“I won’t eat with cowards.”
Masterji kicked the papaya; shedding its newspaper wrapping, it scudded along and smacked the wall of Mrs. Saldanha’s kitchen.
“I’m going to the police station, with or without you,” he said. “This builder thinks he can frighten me? In my own home?”
Mrs. Puri got up.
“The police? You want to make things even worse?” She put a finger on Masterji’s chest and pressed. “Why don’t we take you to the police?”
From another side, another finger poked him: Ajwani.
“You have turned this Society into a house of violence. In forty-eight years nothing like this has happened in Vishram.”
Mrs. Puri said: “A man who fights with his own son—and such a lovely son at that—what kind of a man is he?”
Ibrahim Kudwa stood behind her: “Sign Mr. Shah’s agreement now, Masterji. Sign it now.”
“I will not be made to change my mind like this,” Masterji said. “So shut up, Ibrahim.” Kudwa tried to respond, then sagged, and stepped back.
Moving him aside, Ajwani stepped forward. The Secretary