A Garland of Marigolds Read Online Free PDF Page A

justified pride.
    Life pulsated on those streets. Vendors sold their goods, moneylenders and barbers carried out their services, tailors sewed their goods, using their toes to turn the handles of the battered sewing machines that must first have been used in another era. Saris, brilliantly colored, were laid out to dry. And everywhere you looked was the movement and enthusiasm of a people who were really alive.
    I stopped at a small store that was selling helpings of curry to the passersby.
    “ Where can we eat? ” I asked him, suddenly extremely hungry. “ Do we have to go back to the hotel? ”
    “ I ’ ll take you to my favorite restaurant, if you like, ” he offered shyly. “ It isn ’ t at all grand, but it ’ s the real thing. ”
    The restaurant was small. Somehow between the tables a couple of female dancers gyrated madly to the rhythm of an old man on a flute-like instrument that produced a curious, hypnotic sound.
    Joseph chose a table in one corner. It was lit by a single candle, that added romance if not enlightenment to what we were eating. A singer took the place of the dancers and a severe-looking waiter with very fine features and a thin narrow mouth took our order.
    “ It ’ s nice here, ” he said with pleasure as the waiter went away. “ The food is really Indian. ”
    I laughed. “ I ’ m expecting great things! ” I said.
    His hand met mine and took firm possession of it.
    “ If you could have seen your predecessor ... ” he began. It was strange, but I didn ’ t in the least mind flirting with him. “ I can guess! ” I retorted.
    “ I nearly fell over when I saw the boss had brought you back with him! ” he added, his eyes twinkling.
    “ I take my work very seriously, too, ” I said.
    “ Too? You mean you have time for other things as well? ”
    I colored. “ Yes, of course, ” I said. Joseph had a glint in his eyes that I didn ’ t quite like. “ But my work comes first, ” I added defensively.
    “ You ’ re too good to be true, ” he said. “ Tell me all about yourself! ”
    I licked my lips nervously. “ There isn ’ t much to tell. I ’ d rather hear about you. ”
    His eyes snapped at me. “ I ’ m an American. Isn ’ t that enough? ” I shook my head. “ Tell me about your job here. ”
    He leaned back and relaxed in his chair, a slight smile on his face.
    “ Certainly not. You ’ ll find out all about that quickly enough. I want you to see me as a man, not as a cog in the great Gideon ’ s machine! ”
    I was startled into looking at him more closely. His chin quivered slightly and I was reminded again of the basic weakness of his face. But I liked him very much indeed, if only because, in some indescribable way, he reminded me of Timothy.
    “ I don ’ t think you ’ ll ever be a cog to me, ” I said gently.
    His smile grew warmer. “ Is that a promise? ”
    I nodded my head solemnly. “ It ’ s a promise. ”
    His eyes fell to the table. “ I can hardly ask more than that, ” he said.
    I was a little embarrassed by his seriousness, but at that moment the waiter brought our food and successfully distracted my attention. It was certainly the most delicious curry I had ever tasted, not as hot as I had expected, but with so many side dishes that I soon lost count. I recognized the desiccated coconut and one or two of the chutneys, and of course the sliced bananas, but the rest I had never seen before.
    “ Shall we have some wine to go with it? ” Joe asked.
    I hesitated, wondering about the price. I had been told that it was impossible to have anything alcoholic in Delhi without paying a great deal of money and I was really wondering if Joseph could afford to throw his money away so recklessly.
    “ No, I won ’ t, ” I said carefully.
    “ Oh, come on! One bottle won ’ t break the bank! ” He gave the order to the waiter and then sat back looking very pleased with himself. “ It will be the first seal on our friendship, ” he added.
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