The Hungry Tide - Amitav Ghosh [151]
“Kanai,” she said gently, “it’s all right. You’re safe now. We’re with you.”
He tried to answer, but his teeth were chattering and his breath kept getting caught in his throat.
“Don’t try to talk,” Piya said. “I’ve got a sedative in my first-aid bag. I’ll give it to you when we get to the Megha. What you need is a good rest. You’ll feel much better afterward.”
LIGHTS
DAYLIGHT WAS FADING when Piya put away her data sheets and stepped out of her cabin. As she passed Kanai’s cabin, she paused to listen at his door: he had slept through the afternoon, after taking the pill she had given him, but she sensed he was awake now for she could hear him moving about inside. She raised her hand to knock, thought better of it and went on her way, across the deck and to the bow.
With the setting of the sun Garjontola, all but engulfed by the rising tide, had turned into a faint smudge of land outlined against the darkening sky. In the dying light the island seemed to be drifting peacefully to sleep. But just as Piya was stepping up to the bow, the dark blur was lit up by tiny points of phosphorescence. The illumination lasted only an instant and then the island went dark again. But a moment later the lights twinkled once more, in perfect synchrony: there were thousands, possibly millions, of glowing pinpricks of light, just bright enough to be seen across the water. As her eyes grew used to the rhythm of the flashing, she was able to make out the sinuous shapes of roots and branches, all outlined by the minuscule gleams.
Piya turned on her heel and ran to knock on Kanai’s door. “Are you up? You’ve got to see this. Come on out.”
When the door opened, she stepped back in surprise, as if the man before her were not the one she had expected to see. Kanai’s face and body were scrubbed clean and he was dressed in a lungi and vest he had borrowed from Horen. His hair lay plastered on his head, and there was a look on his face so different from his usual expression of buoyant confidence that she was hard put to recognize him.
“Kanai, what’s up? Are you OK?”
“Yes. Just a little tired. But I’m fine.”
“Then come and look at this.” She led him to the bow and pointed to Garjontola.
“What is it?”
“Wait.”
The lights flashed on and Kanai gasped. “My God,” he said. “What are those?”
“They’re glowworms, flashing their lights in rhythm,” said Piya. “I’ve read about it: they say it happens mainly around mangroves.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Me neither,” she said.
They watched intently as the lights flashed on and off, growing brighter as the sky darkened. She heard Kanai clearing his throat and sensed he was bracing himself to say something, but it was a while yet before he spoke. “Listen, Piya,” he said, catching her off-guard, “I wanted to tell you — I’m going back tomorrow.”
“Back where?”
“To Lusibari — then New Delhi.”
“Oh?” She feigned surprise, although she realized now that she had known all along what he was going to say. “So soon?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s time for me to get back to my office. It’ll be nine days tomorrow and I told everyone I’d be home in ten. If I leave early in the morning I’ll be able to make it back to New Delhi by the day after. The people in my office will begin to worry if I’m not there.”
She knew from his voice that he was holding something back. “And is that the only reason you’re going? Because of your office?”
“No,” he said tersely. “It’s also that I don’t really have much reason to stay here now that I’ve finished with my uncle’s notebook. It’s not as if I’m of much use to you. I think you’ll be able to manage perfectly well without a translator.”
“You certainly don’t have to stay on my account,” she agreed. “But if you don’t mind my asking, does your decision have anything to do with what happened today — on the island?”
His answer, when it came, seemed to be pronounced with some reluctance. “This is not my element, Piya,” he said. “What happened today showed me that.”
“But