The Mystic Masseur (13 page)

Beharry and Suruj Mooma called that evening and as soon as Leela and Suruj Mooma saw each other they began crying.

‘He write the book,’ Suruj Mooma wailed.

‘I know, I know,’ Leela agreed, with a sharper wail, and Suruj Mooma embraced her.

‘Don’t mind you educated. You must never leave him. I would never leave Suruj Poopa although I read up to Third Standard.’

‘No! No!’

When that was over they went to Beharry’s shop and ate. Later, while the women washed up, Beharry and Ganesh discussed how the book could best be distributed.

‘Gimme some,’ Beharry said. ‘I go put them in the shop.’

‘But Fuente Grove is a damn small place, man. Nobody does ever come here.’

‘If it ain’t do good it ain’t go do harm.’

‘We have to paint some signs and send them to Rio Claro and Princes Town and San Fernando and Port of Spain.’

‘Handbills?’

‘Nah. Is a book we talking about, not a theatre show.’

Beharry smiled weakly. ‘Was just an idea. Really Suruj Mooma idea. But we must have a advertisement in the
Sentinel
. With a coupon to full up and cut out and send.’

‘Like the American magazines. Is a good idea, that.’

‘Eh, is something that was worrying Suruj Mooma. You ask the printer to keep the print?’

‘Yes, man. I know about the business, you know.’

‘Suruj Mooma was getting real worried.’

They grew so enthusiastic that Ganesh wondered whether he shouldn’t have printed two thousand copies of the book. Beharry said he visualized Trinidad storming Fuente Grove to get copies, and Ganesh agreed that the idea wasn’t far-fetched. They were so excited they fixed the price of the book at forty-eight cents, and not thirty-six, as they had planned in the beginning.

‘Clear three hundred dollars profit,’ Beharry said.

‘Don’t use that word,’ Ganesh said, thinking of Ramlogan.

Beharry brought out a heavy ledger from a shelf under the counter. ‘You go want this. Suruj Mooma make me buy it some years now, but I use only the first page. You go want it to show your expenses and your sale.’

Soon the
Trinidad Sentinel
carried a three-inch column advertisement for the book, with a coupon to fill in, and the coupon was full of dotted lines, as Ganesh had insisted. The
Sentinel
gave the booklet a three-inch review.

Ganesh and Beharry warned and bribed the Post Office people; and waited to deal with the rush.

After a week only one coupon was filled and sent. But the writer had attached a letter begging for a free copy.

‘Throw it away,’ Beharry said.

‘So Trinidad does behave,’ Ganesh said.

Bookshops and even ordinary shops refused to handle the book. Some of them wanted a fifteen-cent commission on every copy and Ganesh couldn’t agree to that.

‘All they thinking about is money, money,’ he told Beharry bitterly.

A few hawkers in San Fernando agreed to display the book and Ganesh made many journeys to see how the sales were going. The news wasn’t encouraging, and he walked a good deal about San Fernando with the book in his shirt pocket so that anyone could see the title; and whenever he was on a bus or in a cafe he took out the book and read it with absorption, shaking his head and stroking his chin when he came across a question and answer with which he was particularly pleased.

It made no difference.

Leela was as distressed as he was. ‘Don’t mind, man,’ she said. ‘You must remember that Trinidad just full of people like Soomintra.’

Then The Great Belcher came to Fuente Grove and she brought a long thin boy with her. The boy wore a three-piece suit and hat and stood in the yard in the shade of the mango tree while The Great Belcher explained. ‘I hear about the book,’ she said warmly, ‘and I get Bissoon to come. He have a hand for selling.’

‘Only printed matter,’ Bissoon said, coming up the steps to the verandah.

Ganesh saw that Bissoon wasn’t a boy, but an elderly man; and he saw too that, although Bissoon wore a three-piece suit, a hat, collar and tie, he wore no shoes.

‘They does keep me back,’ he said.

Bissoon was anxious to make it clear that although he had taken a lot of trouble to come to Fuente Grove, he had not come as a suppliant. When he came into the drawing-room he didn’t take off his hat, and from time to time he rose from his chair and spat through the open window in a clean strong arc. He flung his feet over one arm of the chair and Ganesh watched his toes playing with each other, dropping a fine powder of dust on to the floor.

The Great Belcher and Ganesh looked at Bissoon, full of respect for his selling hand.

Bissoon sucked his teeth loudly. ‘Lemmesee the book.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘The book, man.’

Ganesh said, ‘Yes, the book.’ And shouted for Leela to bring the book from the bedroom where, for safety, all the copies were kept.

‘Bissoon, what
you
doing here?’

For a moment Bissoon’s composure broke up as he turned and saw Leela.

‘Ah, is you. Leela. Ramlogan daughter. How your father, girl?’

‘You do well to ask. Pa got you in mind, I could tell you. All those books you sell him he didn’t want to buy.’

Bissoon was calm again. ‘Oh, yes. American books. Pretty books. Nice books. Salesmanship. Fastest-selling books I ever handle. Reason I sell them to your father. Last set he get. Lucky man, Ramlogan.’

‘I ain’t know about that. But you go be an unlucky man if you ever go back to Fourways, I could tell you.’

‘Leela,’ Ganesh said, ‘Bissoon come here to sell my book.’

The Great Belcher belched and Bissoon said, ‘Yes, lemmesee the book. When you in the book business time don’t wait for you, you know.’

Leela gave him the book, shrugged her shoulders, and left.

‘Stupid man, Ramlogan,’ Bissoon said.

‘More a woman than a man,’ The Great Belcher said.

‘Materialist,’ Ganesh said.

Bissoon sucked his teeth again. ‘You got any water in this place. It making hot and I thirsty.’

‘Yes, yes. We got water, Bissoon, man,’ Ganesh said eagerly, rising, and shouted to Leela to bring the water.

Bissoon shouted, ‘And, eh, Ramlogan daughter, don’t bring me any mosquitoey water, you hear.’

‘No mosquitoes here, man,’ Ganesh said. ‘Dryest place in Trinidad.’

Leela brought the water and Bissoon put down the book to take the brass jar. Ganesh and The Great Belcher looked at him intently. Bissoon drank the water in the orthodox Hindu way, not letting the jar touch his lips, just pouring the water into his mouth; and Ganesh, sympathetic Hindu though he was, resented the imputation that his jars were dirty. Bissoon drank slowly, and Ganesh watched him drink. Then Bissoon delicately put down the jar on the floor and burped. He pulled out a silk handkerchief from his coat-pocket, wiped his hands and his mouth, and dusted his coat. Then he took up the book again.

‘Ques-tion Num-ber One. What is Hin-du-ism? Answer: Hin-du-ism is the re-li-gion of the Hin-dus. Question Number Two. Why am I a Hin-du? Answer: Be-cause my pa-rents and grand-pa-rents were Hin-dus. Ques-tion Num-ber Three –’

‘Stop reading it so!’ Ganesh cried. ‘You breaking up the words and the sentences and you making the whole thing sound like hell.’

Bissoon gave a decisive rub to his toes, got up, dusted his coat and trousers, and started towards the door.

The Great Belcher rose hurriedly, belching, and stopped Bissoon. ‘God, is this wind troubling me again. Bissoon, you mustn’t go now. Is for a good cause we want you to sell the book.’

She took his arm and he allowed himself to be led back to his chair.

‘Is a holy book, man,’ Ganesh apologized.

‘Sort of kyatechism,’ Bissoon said.

‘Just what it is.’ Ganesh smiled appeasingly.

‘Hard book to sell, kyatechisms.’

‘Nah!’ The Great Belcher blended a belch into the word.

‘Look, is experience I have in this business, you know.’ Bissoon’s feet were draped again over the arm of his chair, and his toes were again playing with each other. ‘All my life, ever since I leave the grass-cutting gang, I in the book business. Now I could just look at a book and tell you how hard or how easy it is to sell. I start off as a little boy, you know. Start off with theatre handbills. Had to give them away. I give away more theatre handbills than any other body in Trinidad. Then, I move up to San Fernando,
selling
kyalendars, then –’

‘These books is different books,’ Ganesh said.

Bissoon picked up the book from the floor and looked through it. ‘You right. Handle poetry – it go surprise you how much people in Trinidad does write poetry – and I handle essays and thing, but I never handle a kyatechism before. Still, is experience. Gimme nine cents commission. Remember, if any sort of printed matter could sell in Trinidad, Bissoon is the man to sell it. Gimme thirty of your kyatechisms to start off with. Mark you, I warning you now that I don’t think they go sell.’

When Bissoon had left, The Great Belcher said, ‘He have a hand. He go sell the books.’

And even Leela was cheerful. ‘Is a sign. Is the first sign I ever believe in. Is Bissoon who sell those books to Pa. Is those books that put the idea of authoring in your head. And is Bissoon who selling them for you. Is a sign.’

‘Is more than a sign,’ Ganesh said. ‘Anybody who could sell a book to your father could sell milk to a cow.’

But secretly he too believed it was a good sign.

Beharry and Suruj Mooma could not hide their disappointment at the poor reception of the book.

‘Don’t let them worry you,’ Suruj Mooma said. ‘Is just jealous they jealous in Trinidad. I still think is a good book. Already it have some question and answer Suruj know off by heart.’

‘It have a lot in what Suruj Mooma say,’ Beharry said judiciously. ‘But I feel the real trouble is that Trinidad just ain’t ready for that sort of book. They ain’t educated enough.’

‘Hah!’ And Ganesh gave a short dry laugh. ‘They want a book that
look
big. Once it look big they think it good.’

‘Perhaps they want more than a booklet,’ Beharry ventured.

‘Look,’ Ganesh said sharply. ‘Is a damn good
book
, you hear.’

Beharry, growing bolder, nibbled energetically. ‘I don’t think you go really deep enough.’

‘You think I should throw out another one at they head?’

‘Companion volume,’ Beharry said.

Ganesh was silent for a while. ‘
More Questions and Answers on the Hindu Religion
,’ he dreamed aloud.

‘
More Questions and Answers
,’ Beharry said, ‘
Companion Volume to 101 Questions and Answers
.’

‘You make it sound good, man, Beharry.’

‘Well, write it, man. Write it.’

Before Ganesh even began thinking constructively about the companion volume Bissoon returned with bad news. He gave it with respect and sympathy. He took off his hat when he came into the house, didn’t fling his feet over the arm of the chair, and when he wanted water he said, ‘
Tonnerre!
But it hot today. You think you could give me just a little sip of water?’

‘I is not like some people who does go round boasting that they right,’ he said, after he had drunk. ‘Nah, I is not that sort of man. I know I did tell you, but I not going to even talk about it now. Wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know. You ain’t have my experience in the business, that is all.’