vii. tetra master
‘Ah. Smell that balmy beach air.’
I stepped over a half-rotted carcass of a fish lying in the sand. Next to me, Jurgen skipped along with Ella the tetra kite draped around his shoulders like a violently pink feather boa.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Absolutely lovely.’
He ignored the resignation in my voice (which stemmed from being awake barely four hours after I fell asleep, on a Sunday morning, to watch a skinny boy fly a kite) (okay, so maybe I didn’t mind that last bit as much). Perky as usual, he’d even had time to shower and stuff an oblong buttered toast into his mouth while I was still almost-swallowing my mouthful of Listerine in the bathroom. He was re-wearing his Bing Crosby t-shirt, which I appreciated. We were now trudging towards the looming Bay of Bengal, which was fiercely waving and crashing in the strong wind: perfect kite-flying weather, according to Jurgen (to me, it was perfect staying-in-bed-and-going-to-sleep weather). At another distant end of the beach fishermen were dragging their catamarans out of the water.
‘I could cry,’ Jurgen said, when we were stepping on firm, dampish sand. ‘I’m so excited.’
I put my hands on my hips and watched as he unraveled his roll of maanja, bouncing up and down.
‘You’re still using the glass maanja,’ I observed.
‘Yep.’
‘We could get arrested.’
He considered this for a few seconds as he got Ella ready. Then he straightened up.
‘Leena, I’m white. They wouldn’t arrest me.’
‘You look white,’ I correct. ‘And don’t prance around with that attitude, young man.’
He waved me off. ‘There are no cops around. Okay, help me.’
‘I’m just going to stand back,’ I said.
‘Wait – just hold her straight. I gotta make sure all her wings are properly aligned.’
I obliged and kept Ella still while Jurgen prodded around her delicate wire structure, murmuring endearments and encouragements.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he cooed, straightening her topmost wing. ‘Yes, you are. You’re gonna do great today. I’m so proud of you. Oh, you look lovely, you’re gonna be just fine.’
I watched him, focusing on the shiny red tip of his nose.
‘You know they say that women are more attracted to men who are good with kids, right? Because like, biologically they see him as a potential mate who could care for their future offspring, or whatever.’
Jurgen glanced up at me. ‘Yes…?’
‘Well,’ I said stiffly. ‘That is not untrue.’
He blinked. ‘I have a feeling you’re trying to compliment me right now but your emotional apathy is not letting me understand how.’
‘I am attracted to you,’ I elucidated.
He didn’t respond immediately.
‘You are attractive when you tinker with your kites,’ I elucidated further.
His face had cracked into a huge, goofy grin.
‘Do I make your ovaries tingle?’
‘Not when you’re making that face and saying that sentence,’ I muttered, rolling my eyes.
He leaned in before I could protest and planted a sloppy kiss on my forehead, which was rather damp because he was grinning.
‘You’d make my ovaries tingle if I had some,’ he assured me.
‘That’s just like saying I give you a boner,’ I said.
‘Well, you do,’ he said, taking Ella from me.
‘Thanks. I’m flattered.’
We exchanged a look, after which he told me to snap out of my lust and focus on business.
‘Yes,’ I said, stepping back. ‘I shall watch you from this rock.’
He nodded, and I took a few steps back and settled down in front of a rock, leaning against it. Jurgen jogged back fifty or so metres, cradling Ella in his arms. Then, with his toes, he traced out a large, fancy J on the damp sand to mark his starting point.
He then fished a sock out of his pocket and held it up. It seemed that the wind was blowing in a direction that was somewhat inclined to the line of the sea, so he had to run against that direction. From the distance he sent my way an enthusiastic wave and a flying kiss. The wind was unfortunately too strong for me to catch the kiss; I waved back. (And if my life was a satirical mockumentary I would’ve chosen that moment to look into the camera like Nick Offerman in Parks and Recreation).
Jurgen didn’t run. He galloped. And however stupid that sounds, it was majestic in an awkward way, because he just didn’t give a fuck about anything except that dumb kite trailing behind him. And I don’t know – I loved that. I really did. Ella was rolling along behind him feebly. I crossed my fingers (lame, I know), because I knew it would crush him if she didn’t take off. Jurgen’s face, bobbing up and down with the hair flying off his forehead, was set in a determined scowl which made me proud.
He passed by me in a quick flash of dorkery, and then Ella suddenly rose a few inches above the ground. He sensed the tension in the string and yelled, and started running faster.
‘COME ON ELLA,’ he was shouting. ‘GET OFF THE FUCKING GROUND.’
I contributed.
‘FLY, ELLA, FLY!’
‘HOUSTON,’ Jürgen screamed in the distance, ‘WE HAVE…LIFTOFF!’
And then, after rotating dangerously about her axis a few times, she rose like a balloon, and Jürgen’s shriek pierced the air.
‘YES! YES! OH MY GOD! I AM THE TETRA MASTER!!’
The pink diamond rose up, her wings billowing out perfectly, beautifully, and I was grinning, and Jurgen had a hand over his mouth like he’d won the Miss Universe title. I scrambled up and jogged over to where he was grappling with his roll of maanja.
‘You did it!’ I squealed (yes, I squealed. There’s literally no other way to describe it).
He was laughing, great big booms of ha-ha-ha that seemed to reverberate in my ears. ‘I know! Oh my god, Leens, isn’t she beautiful?’
I looked at him.
‘She is.’
He put an arm around my shoulder and squeezed me to his side.
‘Wanna fly her?’
I could barely hear him over the roaring wind in our ears.
‘What?’
‘Do you want to fly her.’
I blinked. ‘Uh… I dunno if I can, Jurgen –’
‘Course you can,’ he said easily. ‘Here, hold this.’
‘Jur –’
‘Leena shut up and hold this.’
He was holding the wooden spool of maanja out to me. I held the handles gingerly.
As soon as he let go, I was jerked forward violently.
‘Whoa, what the fucking fuck –’
He was laughing behind me.
‘Pull her back, you’ve got to fight the wind!’
‘Well, the wind is fucking strong,’ I hissed, rolling back the maanja. Ella was buoyant in the air, pulling me forward with every triumphant undulation.
‘Stop trying to resist,’ Jurgen was saying, standing patiently at my side as I cursed. ‘Leena – are you listening to me? Relax.’
‘It’s pulling me if I relax,’ I muttered, using all my bicep strength to pull the dumb kite back.
‘No it’s not,’ Jurgen said, touching my arm. ‘Don’t tense up your muscles, you’ll tire out.’
He was right. I could already feel a cramp coming on.
‘Too much,’ I muttered, unable to un-tense. ‘And here I was thinking you didn’t have any upper body strength.’
‘Leena, just listen to me. Stop digging your feet into the sand.’
My heels were at that point firmly fixed in the sand. I stepped out. Ella promptly amplified her pulling, like a disobedient dog.
‘Ugh.’
‘Good,’ Jurgen encouraged. ‘Now stop flexing your muscles. Just let it be. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.’
‘You throw physics around like it’s nothing.’
‘The more effort you exert, the harder it’s gonna be. Relax.’
I puffed out a breath.
‘It’s a kite. This shouldn’t be so goddamn hard.’
Jurgen was unfazed by my muttering.
‘Unwind the reel slowly.’
‘Okay…’
‘Now just loosen up your feet. Loosen up. Don’t be so averse to moving.’
I did as ordered, unravelling the spool of maanja slowly, and then, to my great shock and surprise, Ella was exerting no more than a tiny, not entirely unmanageable pull on my arms. I pressed my lips together, concealing my sudden relief. But of course Jurgen was not one for facades. He was grinning.
‘See? Easy as pie.’
I shuffled forward with Ella.
‘That’s not how the saying goes.’
He just kept grinning. I rolled my eyes. But the whole kite thing was pretty fun when you get used to it.
‘I like it,’ I said finally. ‘This is fun.’
Jurgen was looking up at her wistfully.
‘I wanna go kite fighting on Makar Sankranti.’
Here we go again.
‘And nobody is stopping you,’ I reminded him, like I did every time he brought up his little pipe dream.
He kicked up a floof of sand.
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Literally no one, Jurgen. I’m sure your parents would get you a ticket to Ahmedabad in a flash. You can just up and go.’
He didn’t respond. I resisted the urge to say that he always did that, whenever we talked about his goals or anything that he wanted to do he would just close up and shirk it off, but you know what? I didn’t want to rain on his little fluffy Bing Crosby love-life-live-life parade. So fuck it.
‘Here,’ I said, handing him the spool after a minute of silence. ‘Enjoy your hard work.’
He took the spool from me comfortably, no violent jerk of adjustment, no frantic pulling. He held the string with one hand, maneuvering with ease. We strolled further down, back in the direction of our houses. I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking, but he didn’t say anything.
Then he said, ‘Shit.’
I looked up, and Ella had dipped a few inches. She was swaying slightly, and then I noticed a plaintive flapping at her tip – one of her wings had come off.
‘This is not good,’ Jurgen muttered, now pulling at the string more erratically as she careened around in the air, dropping a few feet with every gust of wind. ‘This is…not good.’
With a lot of painful-looking jerks and tearing sounds, Ella sank abruptly into the sand, diving in nose-first. Jurgen cursed and jogged over to her, picking her up and dusting her off. Kneeling, he examined her tattered wing while I rolled up the maanja.
‘Guess that’s that,’ I said lamely.
‘I can fix this,’ he said, standing up. ‘Or maybe I’ll replace the kite paper with fabric.’
I handed him the spool. He tucked it into his pocket and then stuck out his hand to me. I took it.
‘Sorry that she broke,’ I said, hating the crumpled look on his face.
‘Eh, it’s okay. I’m just glad the tetra wings worked.’
I nodded. ‘Yeah.’
He glanced at his watch as we walked.
‘Well…it’s seven-thirty. I gotta go to church in fifteen minutes.’
‘My mother is going today too, I think,’ I said, wrinkling my nose. ‘She keeps telling me to come for Sunday mass.’
Jurgen glanced towards our neighbourhood church, which was just off the beach in the opposite direction.
‘You should, actually.’
He started walking towards it.
‘Are you kidding – Jurgen, I do not go to church.’
‘Leena, I don’t care for religion either, but it’s honestly not so bad. Come on. It’s better than going home for like five minutes and walking all the way back.’
So yes, I let him drag me to church, which, at least, was blessedly empty. I would’ve considered it a pretty structure if I knew it wasn’t practically bathed in centuries-old religious dogma: it was whitewashed with a stained glass window behind the altar, it had smooth, cold wooden pews and a high ceiling. I mean, it was no Notre Dame but it was alright as far as your average place of worship goes. At least it wasn’t like those shady one-room churches in Neelankarai where some guy in a printed pink-and-orange silk shirt comes over on Sundays and sings gospel songs in Tamil.
Jurgen shut the door behind him as we went in. There was literally no one there. The stuff for the morning mass seemed to be all ready on the altar, but I guess no one likes waking up early on Sunday mornings.
‘Sit,’ he said, patting the space next to him as he slid into a pew in the middle of hall.
I followed suit. He placed Ella next to him and put his hands on his lap, looking around placidly. I felt vaguely uncomfortable, to the point that I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I just stuffed them under my thighs and stared straight at Jesus, who was mournfully crucified at the altar. I wondered how Christians dealt with all the guilt that was thrust on them – Jesus died for your sins. YOUR SINS. HE DIED FOR YOU. AND HE STILL LOVES YOU, YOU KNOW THAT? DON’T LET HIM DOWN. DON’T FUCKING LET HIM DOWN.
‘Jurgen,’ I said. ‘I’m going to ask you something plain and simple.’
‘Shoot away,’ he said.
‘Do you believe in God?’
‘Well I don’t believe that there’s a furry old man sitting up in the clouds wearing a loincloth and tutting at humanity, but you could say I’m an agnostic theist.’
‘Theist?’
‘Yes, theist. And by that I mean I believe in a cosmic force, but not embodied in anything that can be defined or realized by humanity.’
He gave me a little smile that was just a tiny jerk of the side of his mouth.
‘And you’re just…you just accept the presence of this unknowable, undefinable, unrealizable thing.’
He puffed out a breath.
‘Well, yeah.’
Jurgen’s infinite capacity for acceptance never ceased to amaze me. Like, he can accept that he might go to Ahmedabad one day or he might not. He can accept that he might give up on all the ideals he has now, or he might not. He can just accept that there’s a cosmic force that exists in the universe somewhere without somehow validating it.
I just blinked and looked back at the altar, unable to reconcile myself with this giant lie, this giant excuse that humanity had cooked up for itself. I mean, really? You wanna tell yourself there’s a dude up there who got here before you and hold him responsible for all this bullshit? You wanna use him like some kind of get-out-of-jail-free card like life is fucking Monopoly? Like, oh lord, please forgive me, I did something bad can I just like hail-Mary my way out of this one? Pretty please? I’ll be good next time, I swear.
It seemed to be a good time to have a nice, in-depth discussion on our beliefs but then there was a sound from behind a nearby column that sounded like it shouldn’t have been there. It attracted our attention instantly.
‘What…is making that sound?’ Jurgen muttered. It was a tiny, high-pitched yelp, and could’ve been anything from a cell phone’s message beep to a puppy.
When it sounded again, we went over to investigate.
‘Oh my god,’ Jurgen breathed. ‘Oh my gosh darn.’
‘Jurgen, don’t –’
But of course it was futile. Keeping Jurgen away from small baby animals is near impossible, unless the said animal is covered in scales, thorns, or rashes, in which case he keeps a safe fifteen to twenty foot distance. But today, he was eagerly reaching for a tiny, black ball of floof which looked like a puppy, and lying on the floor emitting weak yelps.
‘I don’t think it’s okay,’ I said, examining it as Jurgen held it in his arms. ‘Look, his stomach is all swollen, like he has worms.’
‘Her stomach,’ Jurgen corrected, nodding at the puppy’s nether parts. ‘Vagina.’
‘Right, sorry.’
She had tiny little beady eyes and a damp nose and was staring at the two of us. I flicked one of her ears gently.
‘Hey, you. Where’s your mummy? Hm?’
‘Damn,’ Jurgen mumbled, looking at one of his hands, which was covered in fine black fur. ‘She’s shedding hair like crazy.’
‘Don’t swear, we’re in a house of God. And it’s February, she shouldn’t be.’
Just then the front doors of the church opened again and people began streaming in for mass. Jurgen spotted his mother.
‘Quick, take her.’
I held out my hands reflexively as he transferred the puppy to me and dusted the hair off his chest. She was small and soft but seemed very sick – she was still crying a little bit and her nose was going dry.
‘Jurgen, what am I supposed to do with her?’
‘Take her to my house, I’ll be back in forty minutes.’
I stared at him indignantly.
‘You’re staying for mass?’
‘Yes,’ he informed me coolly. ‘What?’
I shook my head, gathering up the puppy more securely in my arms. ‘Nothing. Go on ahead, but come back soon.’
‘Yes, yes.’
I hurried out of the church and attracted a few weird looks for that (frazzled girl running out of religious building holding a satanic black animal? Hell yes). The walk back took ten minutes, during which I kept my eyes scoured for a bitch who couldn’t watch her own goddamn kids. But I had no luck – and in any case, she looked like she’d been alone for a while.
Jurgen always did this. He would get us into dumb situations like being stuck with a puppy we don’t even know how to care for. Then we’d have to put up adoption ads. Then we’d have to suffer heartbreak when we let her go. We’d miss her first period and her first pregnancy and everything. How stupid. I was so not ready to become a mother.
‘Just fucking great,’ I muttered, as the poor puppy mewled in my arms. ‘Here goes my peaceful Sunday.’
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A/N: Weeooo an update! I did it!
Anyway, my life's been kinda busy so yeah. I'm flying to LA next weekend (fuck) so I've been spending my time having frequent panic attacks! How fun! Also i got my roommate assingment and they're pretty cool. One is Japanese and one is American so it should be interesting. Also our neighbours are guys so let's hope they're hot.
Anyway, hope you guys liked this. PLEASE WELCOME ME BACK WITH SOME NICE COMMENTS THANK YOU y'all are awesome. peace out dudebros.