Her hospital room
is set up. Little office in the corner, 8 or 9 books, journal, computer,
phones, glasses, chamomile tea… it's just after 5am.. the bed is, as yet, unmade.
She made a quick trip home yesterday. He
was afraid to have her back in the house and he admitted it. But he took her
anyway, as requested. Still on heavy detox drugs. They went for a swim in the
crystal clear ocean, most likely in contravention of instructions she had not
requested. She lay on the beach and drank the sun into her body. She wished
dearly and impossibly to recapture last summer, the summer of innocence and
falling in love. In the house she
showered and despite herself looked in a bathroom draw, which she noticed had
been cleared out, so to speak. She suspected every other drawer where she kept
stuff had also been cleared out. This was the new way. If she was to come back
to the house and start again.
One more summer.
She wanted one more happy summer with him in their beach shack. She picked up a
few things. Some made her stop and think. A picture, a piece of jewellery. Some
room spray to make her cell in the princess prison smell good… Kitan…
Back at the
hospital she woke, had a shower and sprayed Kitan around. The effect was
instant, hazy but evocative.
Years earlier he
had arrived after she had been in the country three weeks. She wore her
favourite white shalwah kamiz to meet him at the airport and everyone stared at
the white woman with her silky white and gold orna blowing in the breeze, white pants tucked into leopard print boots. She ignored them and
waited. She saw him come through the gates, ran to him, jumped on him,
wrapped her legs around him and hugged him for what seemed like the longest
time while people snapped pictures on their phones. To hold hands was
scandalous.
Back at the Joy
House no housemates were home. She had
taken the day off work and led him through the tiled pad with all its open
windows and balconies abutting balmy trees and views of the horrid city
beneath. "Here is the drinking
water" she said. "The water guy came this week."
In her room all
the furniture was cane and coconuts. Atop the bed was a delicious throw made of blue, green, gold silk saris.
The doors to the balcony were flung open and a warm breeze floated
through. He took a cold shower, dressed in a towel and showed her presents
picked up on the journey.
"And from
Shanghai Tang.. this department store that you would really love… a scarf..
this book to record our journeys. Room spray." She played with
all of them. Jasmine Tea, Ginger Flower and Kitan. Kitan was her favourite. It
fitted her aerie, her sanctuary from the madness.. Something exotic, light,
elegant, intoxicating. It made the room smell of Himalayan flowers, blue poppy, rose,
freesia, vanilla. Bitter and sweet… Little bits of luxury in that
strange place. The blue and gold silk curtains she had haggled vigorously over
blew in the breeze. The little bottles sat near the framed pictures, on the
cane dresser, by the strange little statue of an elephant.. She had so
little and I liked it this way. Little
pleasures. Loveliness, sanity. I said I would always take care of you.
You didn't think I was serious, surely?
