David Vann - Aquarium

No, Shalini’s mother said. I’m so sorry. I’ll take her back home.

It’s fine, my mother said. It’s funny.

Shalini and I were hugging, and I felt a flush of heat, and I knew we had to not do this in front of everyone, so I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward my bedroom. You have to see, I yelled. It’s the most beautiful house, and the best bedroom.

I pulled her in and slammed the door shut and then we were kissing. Her soft purplish lips, so delicious. I kept looking at them and then kissing and then looking again, wanting her mouth, and she was laughing. Her eyes the darkest eyes and brightest at the same time, gold somehow in a deep dark chocolate brown.

I only think of you, she whispered. I can’t think of anything else. What have you done to me?

I couldn’t stop kissing her, even when she was speaking. Her hands on my back, under my pajamas, pulling me close.

Caitlin, my mother called, and knocked on the door. You have to finish breakfast. And maybe say hello to Shalini’s mother. Jeez.

Maybe they’ll just go away, I whispered.

Shalini smiled and stepped back, pushed my hands away, then opened the door. This is a beautiful home, she said to our smiling mothers.

Have you had breakfast? Steve asked. Please join us for pancakes, both of you.

I should go, Shalini’s mother said. My husband looked very confused when we left.

Shalini’s mother was beautiful. And just listening to her, you could tell she didn’t have the rough side that my mother had. I wanted her to stay as a shield. My mother free to do or say anything in front of my grandfather and Steve, and this would be true in front of Shalini, also, I knew, but not her mother. Please stay, I said.

She put her hand on my cheek. How darling, she said. But I should go. Have fun, and don’t stay up all night. She looked at my mother then. They haven’t told you it’s a sleepover, have they?

No, my mother said. But that’s fine.

I’ll take them to school tomorrow, my grandfather said. He was standing at the table holding on to his chair. It must have been so strange to suddenly have all these people in his home.

Are you sure? I can take Shalini back home now.

No, really, my mother said.

Well I’ll leave you then, she said, and kissed Shalini’s cheek and was out the door.

Well, Steve said. The most fabulous breakfast ever made by human hands is getting cold.

So modest, my mother said.

No bacon for Shalini, I said. And I have to give back my bacon, too.

More for me, my mother said, and reached over and grabbed the beautiful strips that had been on top my pancakes. I was sad to see them go.

You can have your bacon, Shalini said, and I loved the way she said it, her voice in a lilt that made the word bacon something new.

No, I said. I’m a Buddhist. I worship the golden fish.

Shalini laughed.

What’s that? my mother asked. She was talking with her mouth full of pancake. My grandfather and Steve were tucking in, also, everyone’s forks busy. Only Shalini used a knife to cut.

After Steve told me about the Pharaoh Fish, I told Mr. Gustafson that I was Buddhist and worshipped the golden fish.

Nice influence, my mother said, and punched Steve.

What? Steve said. I was only talking about my time in Egypt, when I lived on the bottom of the river.

Now I see why Caitlin is so crazy, Shalini said.

My grandfather looked so happy, watching us eat and talk. When I remember him, I often think of that morning, because it was our first time all together with Shalini, a wonderful morning when all was peaceful and good, no fighting, and our lives seemed like new things that would stretch on forever. An innocence. There would be such terrible moments later that day, but for now, all was safe and calm, and I could still love everyone in an easy way.

It began with Steve’s idea to go cut down a Christmas tree. He should have known this would be too much for my mother. She didn’t want my grandfather to have a happy Christmas family time. We all should have known to say no. But Steve looked so excited.

We’ll run through the snow like wolves, he said. I’ll carry the handsaw, like some man from a fairy tale. I’ve always wanted to do this and never have. Just run into the forest and cut down a tree.

Is that legal? my mother asked.

One tree, Steve said. And not even a big one. Who will miss it?

I don’t know.

What about you, Caitlin? Steve asked. And Shalini. Do you want to run through the forest like wolves?

I looked at Shalini and we laughed.

That sounds like a yes, Steve said. What about you, Bob? he asked my grandfather.

Okay, my grandfather said. He was smiling. I don’t mind getting in a little trouble. This was the end of breakfast, all of us full and leaning back into our chairs. My grandfather’s arms crossed. He wore a brown cardigan. His eyes blinking.

Well, my mother said. I don’t know. She grabbed a last strawberry. I guess if I have to spend the night in jail, at least I don’t have to go to work right after.

There you go, Steve said. We’re all set then. He jumped up from his seat and started grabbing dishes.

All the maple syrup everywhere, and I wanted to kiss Shalini with maple syrup lips.

My first Christmas tree, she said. Today I will be more American.

How long have you been here? my grandfather asked.

Six months.

How is your English so good after only six months?

We learned English in school in Delhi, where I come from. It used to be British English, so I have a bit of an accent, even though everyone’s learning American now.

Fancy, my grandfather said.

Yes. I try to be fancy.

My grandfather laughed. Well any friend of Caitlin’s is a friend of mine.

My mother had a sour look already, and my grandfather should have been more careful.

I got up and helped with the dishes.

What’s Delhi like? my grandfather asked.

We had a bigger house, many rooms, and many people to do the cooking and cleaning, and I had tutors. And the city was enormous, and had so many things.

It seems strange that you left.

Yes.

We’ll all need boots and snow pants, Steve said.

We don’t have those, my mother said. Cheap rain pants, I guess, the kind you just put over your regular pants, but no boots except rubber ones.

Those’ll work. We won’t be out in the snow long. Just put on some good socks, two layers.

I don’t have any boots, Shalini said. I’m sorry.

It’s a different place, my grandfather said. But it sounds like you had everything in India, like your family was well off there.

Yes.

You have a class system there.

Yes, a caste system.

We should get moving, Steve said. I need to run to my place for the saw and my boots and such. Then we’ll head off in my truck and one of the cars.

Shalini doesn’t have boots, I said.

We’ll grab some on the way out, Steve said. Just some rubber boots.

What caste was your family? my grandfather asked.

Khatri, Shalini said.

And what’s that?

I guess it’s the ruling class. My great-grandfather was a wazir.

And what’s that?

The advisor to the king. The second most important person.

Holy smokes. You’re royalty, or aristocracy or nobility or something.

Shalini laughed. Not really. We’re just American now.

But what was it like? my grandfather asked. What was it like growing up in that class?

Jesus, my mother said. Suddenly you’re the interested one. Want to know all about the world, and hear all of Shalini’s stories.

Sorry, my grandfather said. I’m just curious about the other side, what it’s like to grow up not struggling for money.