The Weight of Heaven by Thrity Umrigar Read Free Book Online Page B

unfortunate.” Even to
    Frank, his voice sounded wobbly and untrue. But he already had the
    premonition of saying those words over and over again, until they
    would finally set, harden, become true.
    Deepak gave him a long, thoughtful look. “I see. Is that what
    we’re saying?”
    Frank’s tone was wooden. “That’s what’s true.”
    “I see,” Deepak said again. He too sounded flat, his natural exuberance leveled into a kind of bleariness. And then, in a sudden,
    savage burst, “These greedy bastards. Everything was going so
    well. And then they had to start wanting more money and this and
    that.”
    Frank appreciated what Deepak was trying to do, incite himself,
    convince himself that the crowd waiting for them to appear outside the gate was to blame for the tragedy that had occurred. Out
    of the blue, he remembered an interview with a young soldier in
    Iraq whose buddies had been accused of slaughtering innocent civilians. “These mofuckin’ rag-heads are treacherous, man,” he had
    told the reporter. “One moment they’re smiling at you and shit and
    the next they’re pelting you with stones. So they bring a lot of this
    shit on themselves, man.” Watching the interview, Frank had been
    ashamed and repulsed. But now, he was grateful for what Deepak
    was doing, understood that he would have to start thinking the same
    way himself.
    “Deepak,” he said urgently, taking advantage of Gulab’s absence. “Whatever happens, I don’t want to face the mother, okay?”
    He tried to find a lighter tone. “That wasn’t part of the job description,” he added, but it came out wrong, thin and whiny instead of
    casual and jocular.
    “I already met with the mother,” Deepak mumbled, shifting in
    4 0 Th r i t y U m r i g a r
    his chair, averting his gaze. “Also, there will be a funeral. Someone
    from the factory will have to attend.” His expression made it clear
    that he wasn’t volunteering for the job.
    Frank sighed. “It’s late. Let’s get home for a few hours and meet
    again in the morning, okay?” He got up from his chair to indicate
    the meeting was over and opened the door. Together, they walked
    down the hallway, only to run into Satish, who was hurrying toward
    them.
    “You need a ride, Deepak?” Frank asked.
    “No, thanks. I drove myself.”
    “Okay. Be careful going home.”
    “You, too.”
    In the Jeep, Frank climbed into the back seat, ignoring Satish’s
    quizzical look. The driver expertly steered the vehicle down the
    side road behind the office, until they were off the HerbalSolutions
    grounds and could loop around again on the main road, thereby
    bypassing the crowd.
    The rain had slowed down and the air-conditioning was on, but
    the vehicle still felt stuffy and hot. Frank tapped on the driver’s seat.
    “Satish,” he called. “Pull over.”
    He had jumped out of the Jeep before Satish could even come
    around to open the door for him. Running to the side of the road,
    he bent over and threw up. It was too dark to see the contents of
    tonight’s dinner, but Frank had the inescapable feeling that he was
    throwing up more than food—that he was bringing up bruised and
    beaten flesh, gallons of spilled blood, the unbearable, inexpressible
    anguish of a bereaved mother and the lost promise of a life that he
    may have unwittingly taken with his careless words.
    Chapter 4
    Prakash felt as if even the sea was receding away from him. In all
    the years he had lived in the one-room shack behind the big house
    where the Americans now lived, he had always felt that the sea belonged to him. During the Olaf years, Prakash could escape to the
    beach to smoke a bidi or to get away from Ramesh’s wailing whenever he felt like it. Olaf, the German bachelor who had built this
    house, had been the perfect employer— bas , as long as you gave him
    his morning coffee and poured him his evening Scotch and cooked
    and cleaned in between, he left you alone to come and go as you
    pleased. Olaf