The Hungry Tide - Amitav Ghosh [153]
“None at all?”
Piya could feel her annoyance growing and she tried to calm her voice. “Kanai — what are you getting at?”
“I’ll tell you what Moyna thinks,” he said softly. “She believes you’re in love with Fokir.”
“And what about you?” Piya shot back. “Do you believe that too?”
“Well are you?”
There was an edge to his voice now and she chafed against its rasp. “Are you asking on her behalf, or are you asking for yourself ?”
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t know, Kanai. I don’t know what to tell you — any more than I know what to tell her. I don’t know the answers to any of these questions you’re asking.” Raising her hands, Piya clamped them on her ears as if to shut out the sound of his voice. “Look, I’m sorry — I just can’t talk about this anymore.”
The moon had risen over Garjontola now and in its waxing light the island’s glowing sparks had faded and become almost invisible. Piya stared at the dimming lights, trying to remember how magical they had seemed just a few minutes before. “It was beautiful while it lasted, wasn’t it?”
When Kanai answered, his voice sounded just as constricted as her own. “My uncle would have said that it was like a tide country mirage.”
A SEARCH
AT DAWN, when Piya stepped out of her cabin, the Megha was so thickly shrouded in fog that she could see neither its stern nor its bow. On her way to the foredeck she all but fell over Kanai, who was sitting in a chair with a pad on his knees and a lantern by his side.
“Up already?”
“Yes.” He gave her a tired smile. “Actually, I’ve been up for hours.”
“How come?”
“I’ve been working on something,” he said.
“So early?” She could not conceal her surprise. “It must be important to get you out of bed at that hour of night.”
“It is important,” he said. “In fact, it’s for you — a present. I wanted to have it done before we each went our own way.”
“A present for me?” she said. “Can you tell me what it is?”
He gave her a deprecatory smile and made a face. “You’ll see when it’s finished.”
“So it’s not done yet?”
“No,” he said. “But it will be by the time we’re ready to be off.”
“OK, I’ll be back.” She went to her cabin to change, and by the time she had brushed her teeth and had a quick breakfast of bananas and Ovaltine, Horen was already in the wheelhouse and Fokir was in his boat, preparing to cast off its mooring. She handed Fokir the backpack in which she had placed her equipment, a couple of bottles of water and a few nutrition bars. Then she went to the foredeck and found Kanai still seated in his chair.
“So is it done yet?” she said.
“Yes.” Rising to his feet, he handed her a large manila envelope. “Here it is.”
She took it from him and turned it over in her hands. “You still won’t tell me what it is?”
“I’d like it to be a surprise.” He looked down at the deck and shuffled his feet. “And if you should want to let me know what you think of it, you’ll find my address on the back of the envelope. I hope you’ll write.”
“Of course I’ll write, Kanai,” she said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I hope so.”
She would have given him a peck on the cheek if she hadn’t known that Horen’s eyes were boring into her back. “Take care,” she said.
“And you too, Piya — take care and good luck.”
THE FOG HUNG so heavy on the water that it seemed to slow the currents with its weight. When Fokir dipped in his oars, the boat slipped easily forward, with the fog frothing around its bow like whipped milk. A few strokes of the oars was all it took to carry the boat out of sight of the Megha: the vessel vanished into the mist within minutes.
As the boat headed downriver, Piya glanced at the envelope Kanai had given her — she could tell from its size that there were several sheets of paper inside. She decided against opening the letter right away; instead, reaching into her backpack, she tucked the envelope inside and pulled out her GPS receiver. After taking a reading of the boat’s position, she allowed herself to succumb to the dreamy quiet of the fog.
Over the past couple of days her body had become attuned to the shuddering