Fishy Chronicles 29: Bad Made Worse

I woke up with a start.

Eva was talking in her sleep. I could see light streaming in through the windows and Fish looking fed up. They were massed on the couch in the tank, with ear plugs and ear phones, either trying to block the sounds from the beds or drown them with music. 

My watch said 5.45am and I could see the sky lightening. I got up, took my towel and went for a bath.

"Wait!" Penaaz swam to the top of the tank. I went closer. "I just realised we could have slept in the bathtub and closed the bathroom door."

"That's not a bad idea. Though I think my body would be crooked forever."

Bath over I messaged Genie if he wanted to have morning tea with me. I wheeled the tank out of the hotel room door and Fish let out a torrent when they saw Genie. 

"You won't believe the hell we've been through..."

"An evil, evil business..."

"It was like being tied to a hyena in constant pain..."

"They need to be put down..."

"... need their oesophaguses checked..."

Genie crouched on his haunches to listen to Fish. "Check their oesophaguses... why?"

Gregory pushed the others aside and filled his chest. "Hideous, guttural moaning all through the night! It was violent, unadulterated torture!"

Genie grinned. "Well, you'll have to get used to it. There's no way out."

Penaaz shoved Gregory aside, "Can't we move in with you, Genie?" she begged piteously. I was surprised at her. Eva and Nidhi must have traumatised them. I had been dog tired and slept immediately and deeply. I suspect that was why Fish were annoyed with me and sucking up to Genie now.

"You're stuck, I'm afraid. The guys snore too."

I tried to keep from smiling. But my amusement died soon. Only if I ran around Lonavala's perimeter, played table tennis like crazy and swam 50 laps might I pass out at night and stay comatose. Tonight seemed a grim business.

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This is a fictional series about the narrator, her former manservant and now friend, and former pet fish. They have followed the narrator on a holiday with her relatives and have spent a miserable night with roommates from hell. Though she brushes off the previous night's irritations, the narrator is headed for more trouble.

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At nearly 10am, and because Georgy, his mother and Ashok banged their door, the two women came down to the dining room for breakfast. Almost all the food was over and the hotel staff shrugged their shoulders. They did offer to get sandwiches for the two women.

But Uncle had other ideas. "They will eat what is available. Tomorrow they'll set an alarm and come on time for breakfast," he said coldly and shook out his newspaper. He was stretched out on a stately hardwood armchair, similar to the teak wood ones we had at our home in Kerala. 

So Eva and Nidhi ate cold soggy toast, relieved by the taste of butter and marmalade. Arief, Ashok and I played table tennis and when Eva was near me, I grabbed her arm and pushed a bat into her hand.

"Hey!" Nidhi said. I didn't understand the affinity Nidhi was showing her sister-in-law, my cousin, Eva.

"Give Nidhi a bat someone," I said. Nidhi hated sweat. I had never seen her run and right now, even on holiday, she tottered about ramrod straight on a pair of stilettos. I felt like whacking her, but it was not lost on me how much interest the men were taking in her. Ashok, pushed his bat into his sister's hand and muscled her into place at the table with Arief.

Arief looked at Nidhi's feet, "Are you sure you'll be able to run in those?" he smiled, all sexy and gooey. She opened her mouth defensively, but with the warmth of Arief's gaze she soon slipped off her sandals daintily, making a great show of it. I could see my no-nonsense uncle and the other conservative Syrian Christian elders watching it all. 

I hit the ball to their side of the table and it bounced and shot past Nidhi's ear, making her drop her bat in fright. Even though I nonchalantly fiddled with my table tennis bat - like tennis professionals did while concentrating but secretly plotting the routing of their rivals - I could feel my uncle glaring at me. I wondered why Nidhi's parents hadn’t stopped with Ashok and whether they knew about family planning then, but...

"Ouch! Asshole!” I glared at Arief. He’d served and the ball had smacked and bounced off my collarbone. I dropped my bat and grabbed the stinging portion of flesh and bone, feeling an absolute fool. The goat was looking at and fiddling with his bat. People laughed. I glared at those assembled. Genie grinned and Fish watched with interest.

Some people moved closer to the table and when Arief looked away I served. It hit him under his chin. He glared at me while rubbing his chin. I could see Ashok and Genie move nearer to me, on either side. Now I felt some panic. 

“That was unnecessary,” said Mr Hot Uncool Guy from across the table. 

“Yes. My aim was really off.” I moved to my left, shouldering a bewildered Georgy into my place, to avoid having to deal with Arief's next volley. Nidhi looked at me witheringly. In response, I said, “You think you’ll be able to run without your stilettos, Nids?”

“My name is NID-H-E-E.”

“We’ll make sure we win the game,” Arief butted in.

“At this pace I won’t make it to the Wimbledon finals,” I said.

“Unlikely you’ll even get a wild card or be allowed to step on the grounds. You're too much of a kook to be taken seriously.”

I could only suck in my breath in shock at his rudeness. I felt worse at the burst of laughter around me and felt the burn of humiliation. My eyes filled.

“That’s enough, you two!” Ashok said, bewildered and upset. I could feel Genie's arm around my shoulder and angry cries from the tank. I couldn’t bear to look at anyone. I put my bat down and walked slowly out of the hotel. 

I could hear Roma's raised voice. But I didn’t care, I sprinted out into the road as soon as I was out of sight of the door. What a huge mistake I'd made coming here. With people I didn’t care for, always making up someone's numbers and being an idiot and overdoing the pettiness. I felt foolish and ashamed of myself. 

“Quit the pity party,” I heard Aunty Glory say. “You asked for it,” was probably what my dad would have said. “He could have done it better,” my mom would have said. Or, in this instance, “You deserved it.”

I heard him before I saw him. Nobby, my mosquito friend, sat at eye level on a leaf of a bush. I was sitting on a bench in the garden of another hotel. It would take the hotel's staff a while to discover me and longer to figure out I wasn't a guest.  

“Are you okay?” Nobby asked. He didn’t attempt to sit on me or hover.

“Yes.”

“Your nose is red.”

“Okay.”

“Why were you so rude to Arief and Nidhi?”

I opened my mouth to defend myself but I couldn’t. I’d just been rotten to both for no reason. I shook my head and hunched. I couldn’t look at him.

“You know, Fish shouted at me to bite Arief. When I didn’t they threw water out of the tank. But worse, everyone’s upset and your rudeness has spoiled the holiday atmosphere.”

I nodded, tears spilling. I’d been an idiot, with my antagonism for Nidhi getting the better of me. I felt inferior sometimes, the way she looked down on me and never had a nice thing to say to me. Still, spitefulness had not been the solution. 

My phone rang. It was Roma. After several rings I picked up. She gave me an earful and ordered me to return to Pretty Villa. 

“N-No, Roma. Not just now. I’m going to the market. I’ll be back later.” I cut the line before she could reply and didn’t pick up her call again. I was a fool through and through. I didn’t have any money in my pockets, but I was damned if I was going to go back to the hotel now.

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