The Weight of Heaven (37 page)

tree. Benny in his yellow parka, puffed with self-importance because

Frank let him believe that he had actually helped his dad bring the

tree down. Ellie warming the apple cider once they got home while

father and son positioned the tree in its stand. Frank standing on a

ladder to place the silver star on the top branch. The two of them

staying up late every Christmas Eve wrapping Ben’s gifts.

“God,” Frank said, his voice hoarse. “Oh, God.”

“I wasn’t going to get a tree,” Ellie said. “But I saw it in the

market and couldn’t resist.” Her voice cracked. “I—I just felt like

he’d want us to.”

Frank nodded. “Okay.” He made a visible effort to control his

emotions. “But you’ll have to help us decorate it.”

It took them all of ten minutes to finish the task. First they strung

some silver tinsel over the two-foot tree. Ellie had bought a small

blue star that Frank placed on the top. They looked at the small,

pathetic tree with dissatisfaction. Frank thought back on the twinkling, seven-foot trees they usually decorated in the living room of

their Ann Arbor home. How far we’ve fallen, he thought.

Ramesh closed one eye and looked at their handiwork. “It need

snow,” he said. He turned to Ellie. “You are having cotton balls at

home? That’s what we put at school.” And so they flattened cotton

wool and laid it on the scrawny plastic branches. Frank felt a quick

sense of regret that, thanks to Prakash’s stupidity, Ramesh had

missed the chance to see real snow this December. “Is snow as white

as the cotton?” Ramesh asked.

“Whiter.”

“Like vanilla ice cream, it is looking?”

“Guess so,” Frank smiled. “Except it’s flaky. You put a flake on

your tongue and it dissolves. And did you know, no two snowflakes

are the same?”

Ramesh thought for a moment. “In the whole world no two are

the same?”

“Yup. Just like fingerprints.”

2 6 8 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

The boy cocked his head. “Impossible.”

“But true.”

They left Ramesh to watch TV in the living room while they returned to the kitchen. Helping Ellie chop tomatoes, Frank thought

to himself that children were like snowflakes—no two alike. Benny

and Ramesh were so different from each other, unique in their personalities, and yet each boy was beautiful in his own way. He suddenly felt a great longing to see the two together in the same room,

laughing and playing together. He turned toward Ellie. “Do you

think Ramesh and Benny would’ve liked each other?”

Ellie’s smile was evasive. “Benny liked everybody.”

“I know. But do you think they would’ve been friends?” he persisted.

She pushed back a strand of hair with the back of her hands,

which were covered in flour. “I think so. Though Ramesh may have

bullied him a bit, being older and all.”

He nodded and turned away, dissatisfied with her response.

Though in fairness, what could Ellie have said that would have

made it better? “I’m done with the tomatoes. What else needs chopping?” he said.

In response, Ellie looked at the kitchen clock. “It’s quarter to

five,” she said. “Better send Ramesh home for a few hours. I’d

promised Edna he’d be home by five.”

He went into the living room to approach Ramesh. And maybe it

was the angle of the sun in the room, maybe it was the light, maybe

it was the chopped onions on the kitchen counter that had made his

eyes burn, but for a split second, it was Benny sitting on the couch,

his legs dangling. It was Benny fidgeting with the remote. There

was Benny, his hair lit up from the side by the afternoon sun.

Frank blinked. And Benny disappeared, and Ramesh took his

place. Frank felt his heart race. The world went completely silent. He

stood for a moment, swallowing hard, unable to hear what the boy

was saying to him. Then his ears popped, as if he’d descended from

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twenty thousand feet, and he could hear Ramesh jabbering away

about the wrestling match he was watching. Seeing the strange look

on Frank’s face, the boy stopped. “What’s wrong, Frank?”

“Nothing. Just—nothing.” He stood staring at the boy, reluctant

to issue the command for him to return to his parents, when it was

so damn apparent that his real place was here, on the couch, in this

house, with them. He knew that Ramesh was coming back to dinner

at eight, but even three hours away from this boy on Christmas Eve

felt like too much. He was about to argue with Ellie when she came

in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said to Ramesh. “Go visit with your mom for

a few hours, okay? But make sure you’re back by eight.”

To Frank’s surprise and disappointment, Ramesh didn’t protest.

“Okay, Ellie,” he said, slipping off the sofa. “Bye.”

Frank sat down heavily on the couch and closed his eyes. He was

tired. Lord, he was tired. When he opened his eyes again, Ellie was

standing in front of him, holding out a gift-wrapped box.

“What’s this? Are we exchanging gifts now? I thought we were

going to wait until the others—”

“Just this one,” she said, sitting down next to him. “It’s from

Benny. The rest we’ll open after dinner.”

He opened the box and immediately recognized one of his old ties.

The last two Christmases of his life, Benny had raided his father’s

closet, picked out a tie, wrapped it, and presented it to his dad. Ellie

was continuing the tradition. “Thanks,” he whispered. They sat on

the couch, smiling awkwardly at each other. Frank kissed the top of

Ellie’s head. “He was like you,” he said. “Gentle and sensitive.”

She shook her head. “No. He had the best of his dad. Everybody

said that.” She got to her feet. “I need to put the pie in the oven.”

Nandita and Shashi arrived at eight, minutes after Ramesh had

showed up dressed in the new outfit Ellie had bought for him.

“Wow,” Nandita said to Ramesh. “You look so handsome I think

I’m going to leave my husband and marry you.”

2 7 0 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

Ramesh’s eyes widened, and he looked questioningly at Frank,

who pulled the boy near to him. “You tell her she’ll have to pay you

a huge dowry before you’ll consider,” he instructed Ramesh.

Ramesh gave Nandita a toothy grin. “I am having a girlfriend,”

he confided.

Nandita flopped down dramatically in a chair. “
Arre
, my
naseeb

is so bad.”

The adults all laughed. They sat in the living room sipping their

drinks, and Frank noticed with appreciation that Shashi made every

effort to include Ramesh in the conversation, asking him questions

about school and his favorite teachers. He beamed at how smartly

Ramesh answered back.

Ellie had tried to make a semi-traditional Christmas meal—

mashed potatoes, apple and raisin stuffing, green beans and apple

pie for dessert. To give it an Indian twist, Shashi had picked up tandoori chicken and lamb biryani from the Shalimar’s restaurant.

“Yowzers,” Frank exclaimed. “Think we have enough food

here?”

“What you say?” Ramesh said. “Yeeou what?”

Frank ruffled his hair. “All right, my boy. This ain’t no time for

an education. It’s time to eat.”

They moved back into the living room after dinner. Ramesh

pointed out the small Christmas tree to the guests. “Me and Frank

decorated it,” he said proudly. “Ellie helped.”

“Hon, how about some music?” Ellie asked. Frank plugged in

the iPod and whistled tunelessly to “White Christmas.” When he

turned around, Ellie had disappeared into the bedroom. She soon

returned with an armful of gifts. “A little something for everyone,”

she said.

Ramesh’s excitement reminded Frank so much of Benny’s. “I

first, I first,” the boy yelled, tearing off the gift paper that Ellie had

so carefully wrapped his box in. And then, “Yeeeeeessss. Yes, Ellie,

yes,” as he held up a new pair of sneakers.

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“Glad you like them, hon,” Ellie said. “Try them on to make sure

they fit.”

As Ramesh walked around the room, they each opened their

gifts. The Bentons received a beautiful carved wooden wall hanging. “It’s sandalwood,” Nandita said. “Smell it.”

“It’s lovely, Nan,” Ellie said.

Ellie had bought Nandita a green silk kurta and a silver bracelet.

Shashi, who they knew was a big Harry Potter fan, got a T-shirt

that had the caricature of an Indian potter making a pitcher. Under

the picture it said, “Hari Potter.”

“I love it,” Shashi said, laughing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw that Ramesh was still

dancing around in his new shoes. “Excuse me,” he said and went

into the bedroom. He went into the closet of the guest room, where

he’d hidden the big white cardboard box, and carried it out. He set it

on the floor. “Oh, Ramesh,” he said casually. “Come see. Santa has

brought you one more gift.”

He ignored the confused look that Ellie was throwing him, focusing on the boy. Ramesh broke into the box with eager hands,

throwing the shredded paper packaging all over the floor. When he

lifted the silver laptop out of the box, Ellie gasped. But Ramesh did

not react, looked at Frank with a perplexed expression.

“It’s a computer,” Frank finally said. “For you. To help with your

homework.”

The boy squealed with joy. “For me?” he said. “For me?”

Even though he was conscious of the curious looks the others

were giving him, even though he was aware of how silent it had

gotten in the room, Frank could not keep the pride and pleasure out

of his voice. “Yup. Your very own computer.”

“Ae bhagwan,”
Ramesh breathed. “I am so happy.”

Frank tossed his head back to laugh and caught the look that

Ellie was exchanging with Nandita. He noticed that none of the

other three had said a word yet, and the room felt heavy with their

2 7 2 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

disapproval. He felt a shard of resentment shredding through his

happiness. Fuck them, he thought.

But his tone was innocent when he finally spoke to his wife. “So

what do you think, El? Don’t you think this will help him with his

homework?”

Ellie bit her upper lip and shot Nandita a quick glance. “It

should,” she mumbled.

“It was such a good deal,” he continued. “I was ordering some

computers for work and thought—well, it was such a good deal.”

“Where will he put it?” Ellie asked. She gave a short, bitter laugh.

“It’s not like there’s that much room in their one-room hut.”

“Oh, we’ll figure something out,” he said breezily, determined

not to let her ruin his pleasure.

“And what about Prakash?”

“What about him?”

“Should we have asked him first?”

Ramesh was looking back and forth between them, having at last

detected some tension. Frank felt a flash of anger. Why was Ellie

acting like this? Deliberately, he put his arm around the boy. “So

what do you think, bud?” he said. “Do you think your parents will

let you keep this gift?”

The boy grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, of course,” he yelled. “I

will tell them, Santa brought.”

Ramesh’s words changed the mood in the room. “Computers

have become almost mandatory in schools now,” Nandita murmured, while Shashi turned to Frank and asked, “What software

did it come with?”

Only Ellie, he noticed, was still not participating. He got up and

walked behind her chair and rubbed her shoulders. Bending low so

that only she could hear, he said, “He shouldn’t fall back in school

because of the lack of a lousy computer, hon.”

She exhaled. “Guess not,” she whispered back. “I’m just worried

about Prakash’s reaction. It’s such an expensive gift.”

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He sensed her resistance waning and gave her shoulders a quick

squeeze. “Don’t worry so much,” he said. And turning to his guests,

“What would everybody like as an after-dinner drink? We have

Bailey’s? Nandita, some sherry? Or Kahlúa?”

“I want to play my computer,” Ramesh cried.

“I do, too,” Shashi said, pushing himself off the couch. “Let’s go

set it up, shall we?”

Nandita and Ellie remained in the living room, sipping their

drinks, while the three males crowded around the kitchen table,

checking out the new gadget. “This is beautiful, Ramesh,” Shashi

breathed. “Will you share it with me?”

Ramesh balked. He looked at Shashi for the longest time as he

considered the request. “You can play with it again next Christmas,” he said finally.

Shashi burst out laughing. “This boy is a
pucca
businessman,” he

said to Frank. “I should hire him to work for me.”

Frank smiled back, despite being slashed by two contradictory

emotions—pride in Ramesh and affront at the thought of Ramesh

working for Shashi at his hotel.

This boy is destined for greater things, he thought dreamily. This

boy is destined for America.

Book Five

Spring 2008

Girbaug, India

Chapter 25

The sun was God.

Frank wondered why he’d never known this before. He had spent

his childhood yearning to see the face of God, had always thought

of him as an old man with a long, white beard, as Charlton Heston,

and here he had been—hiding in plain sight. All those years spent

following a false theology, believing in a personal God, praying to

the Father and the Son—when all along it had been the Sun instead

of the Son. He had believed the myths about Adam and Eve and the

Serpent, about God as a personal savior, as if he was some damn accountant perched in the sky with a giant ledger book. All-powerful

they called him, but really, their view of Him was that of a petty,

vengeful tyrant.

But it was all clear now. Of course. Of course. The sun was

God—life-giving but mercurial, sometimes soft and mellow, sometimes fiery and distant. This was the all-powerful deity they talked

about. Wasn’t everything controlled by the sun—the seasons, the

weather, the vegetation, the animal kingdom? And yet, what a mystery. The beautiful star that affected every single life form on earth

chose to remain hidden from us. And why wouldn’t it? Why would

2 7 8 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

it bother with an army of gnats? No wonder Icarus got his wings

burned by flying too close to it. Flying into the face of God.

Shadow and light. All the things that human beings took personally—the ups and downs of personal fortunes, the roller-coaster

ride through life’s vagaries, was just a damn light show. When the

sun went down, the world went dark. Every toddler knew this. But

surely this cycle of dawn and dusk, the strictest law governing the

universe, also governed individual lives? What we humans called

fate was simple physics, a matter of degrees and positioning: sometimes the sun turned a benevolent eye onto a lucky mortal and showered him in its light, so that he was blessed, golden, untouchable.

And then, it moved a few inches, gracing another with its attention,

giving that person his moment in the sun, leaving the first person to

feel the coldness of its shadow. How easily we accepted the rotation

of the earth around the sun, the dissolving of day into night, the

partitioning of the globe between darkness and light. And yet how

we resisted the fact that this interplay between darkness and dawn

also ruled each person’s life.

Perhaps, Frank thought, we mistook the sun’s consistency, its reliability, its unfailing rise in the east, for a kind of love. But really,

the hallmark of the sun was its indifference to us. Our prayers, our

piety, did not disturb it in the least. It didn’t care if it ruined our

picnics or weddings or even our lives. Tossing in his bed, Frank felt

liberated by this thought. It was foolishness, conceit, this belief in a

personal god, an indication of our puniness and weakness.

This is what had happened to them, to him and Ellie. They had

basked in the sun’s benevolence for an absurdly long time. How

fortunate we are, they’d whispered to each other a million times as

they lay in bed together. Every night they used to meet in Benny’s

bedroom and take turns naming three things they were grateful for

that day. And after their son fell asleep, he and Ellie would walk out

holding hands. Looking back at that young couple now, Frank saw

how silly, how deluded, they were. The golden couple, expecting

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 2 7 9

their time to last forever. Born on a planet pockmarked with war and

famine and disease and ancient hatreds, they had somehow thought

they could soar above it all, trusting only themselves and their love

for each other. Thinking they could use their college degrees, their

jobs, their beautiful home, their healthy bodies, their American citizenship, their white skin, to shelter them from the savage world that

prowled outside. But it caught up with them, didn’t it? The sun tilted

away from them and smothered them with a blanket of darkness

that snatched Benny away. A cheap trick, part of the repertoire of

any two-bit kidnapper. And a ransom that they would pay the rest

of their lives.

It was wonderful, really. Not to have to take it personally. To

give up once and for all the old-fashioned notions of good versus

evil, of fate and destiny, of wondering what they could or couldn’t

have done. To realize that there was no great scorekeeper in the sky

whom they might have displeased. To know that the signature mark

of the universe was indifference. No more praying to the Father

and Son. The only son who really counted had been taken away. It

felt good to no longer be burdened by the awful weight of heaven.

If he thought of Benny in an afterlife now, he would imagine him

glittering like crushed glass in the eye of the sun. Adding his tiny,

holy body to the majesty and power of the sun, making it even more

powerful, feeding it with his own coarse energy. Perhaps that’s what

global warming was all about, the destroyed energy of a million

Bennys feeding the open mouth of a fiery beast.

He wanted to think harder, didn’t want to wake up or open his

eyes until he had understood it all, but his head was throbbing with

pain. Beside, he wanted to share this new understanding with Ellie,

explain to her how it wasn’t their fault, that what had happened to

them was not punishment but simple mechanics, like the turning

of the wheel. He wanted to tell her that they could stop missing

Benny, that he was playing peekaboo with them all day long, just

like he used to when he was two, the little rascal. Looking at them,

2 8 0 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

following their every move, like when he was an infant and had

learned to turn his head, remember? For the last two years since his

death they’d thought they were alone, while all along he had been

slipping in through the windows, dancing on the ocean outside their

porch in Girbaug. And not just that—Benny was keeping an eye

on his grandparents as well as on Scott and Anne and Bob. He was

no longer their own private Benny. They had to share him with the

universe now. Why, he could feel Ben on his skin right now, hot as

coal.

He needed to tell Ellie all this. Right now. He tried to get out

of bed but felt as if he had been stitched on to the mattress, pinned

down by invisible threads that only pricked when he moved. And

the throbbing in his forehead was stronger than ever. Beside, he

couldn’t remember how to make his mouth take the shape of Ellie’s

name.

“Ell—Benny,” he screamed. “Benny. Help me.”

“He’s delirious,” Dr. Gupta said. “It’s but natural. Result of the

fever. He’ll be all right as soon as he gets more medicine in him.”

“I want to transfer him by ambulance to a hospital in Bombay,”

Ellie said. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

Gupta looked amused. He glanced quickly at Nandita, who was

standing next to a very worried-looking Ellie. “Madam, please,” he

said. “It’s a simple case of pneumonia. Very common here. A few days

of my tablets, and he’ll be back to normal. Strong antibiotics we’re

treating him with. Same as what the hospital in Mumbai will do.”

Ellie opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Nandita stepped up. “Dr. Gupta, let me talk to you for a minute.” She

pulled him aside while Ellie went and sat next to Frank, trying to

calm him down. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said. “You were just having

a bad dream, all right? You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

Gupta’s eyes showed a new seriousness when he returned to the

bedside, and Ellie suspected that Nandita had told him about Benny.

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“Here’s what I propose, madam,” he said. “Let’s give the antibiotics

a chance to work for today. If the fever is not down by tonight, we

can talk about shifting him to the hospital.” As Ellie looked up at

him, his face softened. “I’m just trying to spare him the road trip to

Mumbai,” he added. “Our ambulances are not as well-equipped as

yours in America.”

“I appreciate your help, Doctor,” Ellie said. She cast about for

Nandita. “What do you think, Nan? Does that sound reasonable,

to wait?”

“It does.” She smiled in Gupta’s direction. “Shashi and I have

blind faith in Dr. Gupta. He has wonderful diagnostic skills. I would

trust his judgment on anything. If any guests get sick at the hotel,

he’s whom we call. And as you know, he’s our private physician,

too.”

Gupta bowed. “Thank you for the vote of confidence,” he said.

He put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, madam. I’ve treated

more cases of pneumonia here than even a top infectious disease

specialist in America. Your husband will be in tip-top shape in a few

days.”

“Okay,” Ellie said. “We’ll wait.”

She walked Gupta to the door, and when she walked back, Nandita was sitting on the couch in the living room, patting the seat next

to her. “Come get off your feet for a bit,” she said.

“I will in a minute. Let me just check on him.”

Frank had fallen into a deep sleep again. She stroked his hair

for a few minutes, and when he didn’t respond, she crept out of the

room.

“He’s sleeping,” she said, and Nandita nodded.

“Good. That’ll help him more than anything else.”

Ellie sighed. “He’s been running himself ragged. The labor situation has been so hard on him. He worked right through Christmas,

also.”

Nandita stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

2 8 2 Th r i t y U m r i g a r

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Come on. I know when you’re trying to be diplomatic. What’s

on your mind?”

Nandita shrugged her shoulders. “We just saw our first case of

diabetes among the villagers. I’m really upset about it. These were a

people who had never heard of the disease, thanks to their consumption of the
girbal
leaves. God knows how these folks even knew of

its healing properties—guess that’s the kind of primitive, ancient

wisdom that people who live close to the land develop over the centuries.”

Usually, Ellie enjoyed listening to Nandita wax philosophical about the native genius of the local people. But she’d been up

since early morning with Frank and was worried to death about his

health.

“What’s your point?” she said.

Nandita trained a level gaze on her. “My point is, Ellie, that it’s

downright unfair that HerbalSolutions owns these trees. This fact

just sticks in my craw.”

Ellie sighed. Everything about Nandita was irking her today.

She’s so goddamn self-righteous, she thought. “Well, you know that

Frank has agreed to allow the locals to take a small share of the harvest. And in any case, it was the Indian government who leased the

forest to HerbalSolutions. It is their job to protect their own citizens.

So you can’t fault—”

Nandita looked aghast. “Oh, come off it, Ellie. You know better

than that. The bastards in the state government are so corrupt

they’d sell their own sisters if the price was right. What do they care

about a forest of trees in the middle of nowhere? Or about the fate of

some poor, impoverished villagers? A few, well-placed bribes and

they’ll do—”

“Nandita, please. Nobody at HerbalSolutions offered any bribes.

Frank would never stand for that.”

Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n 2 8 3

“Don’t take it so personally,
na
, El,” Nandita said softly. “This is

not about your husband or even one company and one village. I’m

talking about how entire economies are being shaped and devastated by the forces of globalization.”