The Flower Boy (37 page)
She took it. She couldn't afford not to.
“What will you do?” he asked.
“I don't know,” she replied. Her voice sounded small.
“Will you try to find Disneris?”
She shook her head slowly. “No.”
Under the circumstances, it was ridiculous to feel relief, but he did anyway.
“There's still time,” he said.
“No,” she said sadly. She held her hands out to him. He took them and stroked them gently, thinking how hard and strong they were. Unlike him. Unlike her. All too soon, she pulled them away and walked out of the room without another word.
THE RAIN WAS loud. It drowned out Chandi's thoughts and the voices in his head. At his feet, water rushed joyfully down the drain to the river, which ran into the sea. He was wet but he didn't mind.
He minded life, but never the rain.
He watched as they came out and flattened himself against the wall as they peered this way and that, trying to see if he was somewhere around.
He watched as John came down the steps and stood just under the porch. He almost stepped out into view but self-preservation pulled him back just in time. England was not a part of his karma. If he had been honest with himself, he would have seen it sooner. Not even Glencairn was included.
He thought of the small fortune he had accumulated over the years and wondered what he would do with it now. Give it to his mother? She would probably keep it for him, for when he needed it. But he wouldn't need it. Not ever. Using his England fund to do anything but go to England was almost as bad as lying to Father Ross in confession. Give it to Sita? What would she do with it? She was still a child. Keep it? For when years of slaving over a smoky fire finally took their toll on his mother and
she
needed nourishing food and herbs?
Perhaps.
They got into the car, Anne in front with her father and Rose-Lizzie behind. Alone. She looked out through the rear windscreen, her nose flat against the glass, trying to see through the rain. She looked like a child.
The car started and pulled away. He stepped out into the center of the driveway and watched it go to England without him. With his dreams. And his best friend.
In the veranda, Premawathi slumped against the hat stand. Thank God for Deniyaya, she thought tiredly. Chandi would adjust.
Inside the house, Appuhamy's ghost waited for its next master.
Karen Roberts
The Flower Boy
Karen Roberts is a native of Sri Lanka who was born and brought up in Colombo, its capital. She currently lives in California. This is her first book.
FIRST VINTAGE INTERNATIONAL EDITION, DECEMBER 2001
Copyright © 1999 by Karen Roberts
Vintage is a registered trademark and Vintage International and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
While set in real places, this book is a work of fiction. The characters and events are products of the author's imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people is unintended. In the few instances where well-known names are used, the related characters, incidents, and dialogue are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict any actual people or events.
The Library of Congress has cataloged the Random House edition as follows:
Roberts, Karen (Karen Marisa Judith)
The flower boy: a novel / Karen Roberts.
p. cm.
1. Plantation lifeâSri LankaâFiction.
2. Tea plantation workersâSri LankaâFiction.
3. FriendshipâSri LankaâFiction. 4. ChildrenâSri LankaâFiction.
5. BritishâSri LankaâFiction. 6. Sri LankaâFiction. I. Title.
PR9440.9.R64 F58 2000
823âdc21 99-54470
eISBN: 978-0-307-42863-9
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