The Temple Dancer (45 page)

" `This is desire, daughter, the endless piercing that informs the universe throughout eternity,' my guru told me. `Here is great Shiva's lingam,
the source of all creation, and there the boundless fertile yoni of the Goddess which embraces and envelops it. Their endless longing creates through
time the three worlds. Do you wonder that you yearn to feel this very pulsing in your soul? Desire is the essence of the gods, my daughter, and we
ache to feel that godhood stirred within us.' "

Maya's voice softened as she ended the telling of her dream, and Lucinda's breathing was already deep and long. Together they rocked and
slept beneath the long dark boughs and the bright sky, and together
dreamed.

Next afternoon, Lucinda stood alone on the verandah, staring over the lake
to where the shore road met the causeway. All along the far shore, fullers
spread long bolts of bright, fresh woven silk on the sword grass for the sun
to dry. The silk billowed in the breeze like the feathers of a giant bird. But
the scene hardly distracted Lucinda. Her eyes never wavered from the road.

She hardly noticed when Geraldo sat upon the railing next to her. He
must have found some way to quiet his noisy boots. But there he was, his
eyes as bright as ever, his mouth as ironic and suggestive as ever. "So,
cousin," he said cheerfully. "Now you will be married sooner than you
thought." Lucinda glared at him, which made Aldo's laughing eyes dance.
"Once your old uncle, now your husband. Dear old uncle Victorio."

"I should be very glad when you stop repeating `old,' cousin. Are
things not bad enough?"

"At least your future is secure. You at least know what will happen to
you. Your uncle is your future now."

"We shall see," Lucinda said, after a pause. "What do you want from
me, Aldo?"

Geraldo leaned back. He reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "I understand you, Lucy, dear. I more than anyone understand. Are we
not the same in many, many ways? Strangers. Homeless. We are alone, and
lonely. The ones we love desert us."

"It is you who deserted my sister," she spat back. Geraldo raised an
eyebrow. "Maya, I mean!"

Sadly Geraldo shook his head. "Is that what she told you? She must
have her pride, I suppose."

"Are you saying she's a liar?"

Geraldo looked injured. "I am a gentleman, cousin. Never would I say
such a thing. Don't you understand, though, that she used me, too?"

"I didn't see you fighting her off."

"Of course not. I am a man. I have desires. Just as she does. Just as you
do, cousin . . ." Geraldo looked at her significantly ". . . exactly as you do."

Why has the air become so still, Lucinda wondered. Birds had been
playing tag just inches above the ripples of the lake; but suddenly they'd
disappeared. Only the growling of frogs in the mudgrass could be heard,
and her own pounding heart.

"What will your life be like, without a real man, cousin? Are you ready
to give over all hope of pleasure? For old uncle Victorio? God knows he'll
probably mount you once or twice before his spirit wanes entirely. Once,
twice, and then what? Months? Years? Then what hope will you have,
cousin? That some day Tio Victorio will mange to stay awake long enough
to come to your bed? You'll be a wife, but will you be a woman?"

Lucinda wanted to scream out, to slap Geraldo's smug face, but her lips
were frozen, and her arms. He knew she could not stop listening to his voice.

"What will you do? The harem women have devices. Will you find a
way to get one? Would you use one? Or would you find yourself a gelding,
with a long soft tongue? Slipper, for example-though he's come up in the
world, I understand. Slipper as he was, then, when he was so ready to
shampoo you. Many women like the hijra more than husbands, so they
say.

Though Lucinda's ears grew hot and her cheeks burned, she could not
find a word to answer.

"But there's an alternative-me, cousin. Think of what I offer. We are family. Our language, our habits, our temperaments so similar. In this
land of strangers, you and I have much in common. Even common needs,
cousin.

At last her tongue could move. "Go. Go away."

Geraldo smiled then, and stood, and seized her by her shoulders, and
leaned toward her face. But he only kissed her forehead. As if by chance,
his fingers slid across her breast as he stepped away. "Ask your friendyour sister, as you call her. Ask her if it was not pleasant, our time together.
Ask her if she was not satisfied. Often. Ask."

"Go."

"When dear old Tio Victorio flops upon you like a gasping fish-when
you're trapped beneath that sagging, ancient body-think of me, dear
cousin, think of me. Think of me, as I will surely think of you." With that
Geraldo walked away. This time his boots clacked brutally upon the tiles.
Lucinda turned and stared across the lake once more, and cursed the memory of her last words to Pathan.

Pathan did not return that night, but crossed the causeway to the palace the
next morning just as dawn broke. As soon as he and his suite entered the
courtyard, he sent word that they would depart immediately.

Maya and Lucinda entered the courtyard arm in arm, heads close together. They needed no servants to help them, for they had little left to
pack. Geraldo watched with cold amusement, tracing with his eyes the
shape of Maya's shoulder bag.

"Ready?" Geraldo asked. The ironic smile that had seemed so attractive in Carlos's study in Goa now irritated Lucinda, and she would not answer. Geraldo chuckled and turned to Pathan. "The palanquin for these
two, Captain?"

Pathan nodded. Geraldo with exaggerated formality escorted them to
the eight-man palanquin that Pathan had brought. Neither woman looked
his way. He bowed with a flourish when they reached it, and walked off
with a chuckling nonchalance.

"Are you comfortable, madam?" the old palkiwallah asked as they settled in the cushions. "And you, madam?"

The women told him yes. Maya slid and sat in a corner, took out her
palm-leaf book and set it in her lap while Lucinda fluffed her skirts and
petticoats. "Now all we need is Slipper," Lucinda said ruefully.

"We'll have him soon enough," Maya answered.

The palkiwallah gathered his men, and they took their places at the
bearing poles. Maya leaned out past the curtains of the palki. "But what
about our hostess, Captain?"

"She will not come, I think," Pathan answered from his horseback.

"You are wrong, sir." There came Chitra, as they first had seen her, her
gold shawl billowing in the breeze behind her, her long walking stick banging step by step upon the tiles, and Lakshmi, tinier than ever, holding her
hand.

Pathan dismounted, and to Geraldo's amused surprise, knelt to place
his head at Chitra's feet. "Get up, my boy," she said. She found his sleeve
and tugged him to his feet, and whispered in his ear. Lucinda saw him
shake his head and whisper, "No." Chitra smiled indulgently, the way a
mother smiles at someone else's misbehaving child.

"The girls," Chitra ordered, and Lakshmi tugged her to the palki's
side. Lucinda slid around to embrace her. While Chitra's cheek touched
hers, Lucinda heard her whisper, "Be brave, sister, be brave. Do not forget
me." When she opened her eyes, she saw Lakshmi staring at her.

A sudden impulse struck her. "Come here," she told the girl while she
searched in her bag. She found at last her miniature locket of Marques
Oliveira, still on its fragile golden chain. She coiled it into a tight bundle
and pressed it into Lakshmi's hand. "Keep the chain and throw the rest
away," she whispered. But she knew from Lakshmi's face that the girl
would keep everything as a mysterious souvenir.

By this time Chitra and Maya had nearly finished their embrace. Chitra stood back. "Now go, in the Goddess's protection. Do not forget your
time here, and remember me!"

Chitra stepped away from the palki, and once more the bearers took up
the poles. Lucinda felt the lurch as they stood. She looked to Chitra and
was surprised to see her waving at Pathan as though she could see him.
"Come, come, Captain. Do your duty!"

Pathan, it seemed with great reluctance, stopped mounting his horse,
and came with slow steps to the palki, and at last to Lucinda's side. He glanced at Chitra, who stared nearly in their direction, and then looked
into Lucinda's eyes. The force of his glance was so intense she felt her belly
tremble. At last he leaned close to her, placing his lips near the place where
her ear met her cheek. She felt his breath, like a silent whisper, but he did
not speak. Then he stood, searching her eyes.

"Eu desejo tu," she said, answering his silence. She spoke without intending to-the words slipped from her as if by their own will. Lucinda
trembled. He looked at her strangely-though he had heard, of course he
had not understood. Pathan straightened and then walked slowly, stiffly,
back to his horse. She watched each step. He did not look back. From his
horseback Geraldo had seen it all, and could barely contain his amusement.

"We go!" Pathan shouted when he'd mounted. He waved his hand, and
led a slow procession through the gate. Behind them Chitra and Lakshmi
stood and waved.

As they reached the long lake bridge, Maya slid next to Lucinda.
"What did you say?" But Lucinda could not answer.

The bearers tried their best not to walk in step, and mostly they succeeded. When by chance their different paces merged into unison, the palki
bounced and lurched, but then would settle down once more into a gentle
bobbing as the bearers mixed their strides once more. "It's not the same as
an elephant, is it?" Maya smiled, but Lucinda's thoughts were too busy to
reply.

As they reached the other shore, Maya turned to look one last time at
the Lake Palace. "I wish I had danced more at the temple," she murmured
to herself. "I wish I had spent more time with Chitra, and with Lakshmi. I
expect I'll never see them again."

"Eu desejo tu," Lucinda said. Maya looked up. "That's what I said. It
just came out. I had spoken before I realized." Maya lifted an eyebrow,
waiting. "He didn't understand. How could he?" she said softly. "It means,
`I desire you."' She turned to Maya, and her tears brimmed over. "Why did
he say nothing?"

Maya reached over and took Lucinda's hand. Behind them, the palace
hid behind mists rising from the lake. "But could you not tell from his
look? From his breath?"

"Why was he silent?"

"He is a man. I'm so sorry, sister."

"What will become of us?" Lucinda whispered. But Maya only shook
her head.

Lucinda Dasana's future husband belched.

This was his hour. This was his caravan; these were his men. The fire
that lit their faces was his fire. The wine they drank was his wine. As if to
prove his point, he belched again.

"You ate too fast, Senhor Souza," Slipper smiled across the flames. "Or
ate too much, maybe? Perhaps the cook Senhor Deoga hired is not agreeable?"

"No, Senhor Gelding"-Victorio lifted his arms expansively, sloshing
wine from his flagon-"you mistake me. My digestion has been bothering
me, that's all."