When Two Worlds Collide, Part Six
Kumar lay awake the night before he had agreed to catch a train to Newark where Marjorie told him she would pick him up. It took a lot to convince him to go, “just this once,” Marjorie had said to him. “Really, my parents aren’t as bad as they make themselves out to be.” The problem was that Kumar had met her parents when he agreed to go over one evening and have dinner with them and no, Marjorie was not a correct. They were worse than she made them out to be.
There were several times when he opened his eyes in a panic and rolled over on his side to pick up the telephone and call her. He didn’t care what time of night it was. He needed to call her to cancel. ‘I’ve had second thoughts,’ he recited to himself, ‘I don’t think tomorrow is a good day. It’s some Hindu god’s prayer day,’ after all, Hindus have many gods. So, the chances of him making that up was slim. He dialled her number. He had no idea what time it was. It was still dark, but that didn’t matter. He held the receiver in his hand. It was sweaty. He just couldn’t get himself to dial the last number. He let his breath out. He didn’t realise he had been holding his breath. He returned the receiver to the cradle and turned on to his back. He was now wide awake. He grabbed his watch off the table and tried to peer at it to see if the face illuminated enough for him to see what time it was. No, it was too dark. He made the wise decision not turn on the light in his room. He put the watch on his wrist instead of putting it back on the table and closed his eyes again.
The alarm went off. He reached over and turned it off. He blinked his eyes rapidly. They were definitely dry. The damn air conditioning he thought and then let out a quick laugh. He forgot he had the alarm set. He could’ve easily checked that to see what time it was, instead of peering at the watch face. It must he five. His train was at 10. He had plenty of time. It was only an hour or so if that, from Penn Station to Newark, but he hated being late.
Suddenly his brain kicked in. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said to himself, ‘I agreed to dinner at Marjorie’s country club. Why does she want to pick me up at Newark at 11? Unless her club is 5 hours away!’ And then it struck him. He began to remember Marjorie’s words quite clearly.
“It’s Saturday. Why don’t you come and spend the day at the country club with my family.”
“The day?” he had asked. He never spent more than an hour anywhere, “why a day?”
“Well,” she said, “we can sit around the pool and have lunch and then you can ride with me in my cart while I play golf, do you golf?” she asked knowing the answer clearly.
“No!” he had replied. “Only cricket.” No of course Marjorie had never heard of cricket but was surprised that Kumar had never wanted to play golf.
“It’s a great game,” she told him, “when you come out on the course you’ll see for yourself.”
He agreed, “why not give it a try.”
“I took a lot of lessons last summer and I think I’m quite good.”
Now the panic set in. “Do they think I’m a Maharaja?” he asked holding his breath for the answer.
“No nobody knows who you are, Kumar. That was my mother’s silly idea which I didn’t agree with.”
“But you did agree with it,” Kumar reminded her of a memory Marjorie would rather have forgotten.
“You’re right. But I don’t anymore.”
“Am I going to meet anyone who thinks I’m a Maharaja?”
“No,” assured Marjorie, “no one will think you’re a Maharaja. I promise.”
Kumar relaxed and convinced himself to begin getting ready. He would go to breakfast in the cafeteria before walking to Penn Station.
“There you are, hi Kumar!” It was Marjorie. A very different looking Marjorie who greeted Kumar at Newark railway station. “Welcome to New Jersey,” she said throwing open her arms to give Kumar a hug from which he recoiled. It was cultural he told her, nothing against her he explained when she made a strange face. He’d rather shake hands, “it’s more pleasant and cannot be construed as anything else.” she agreed reluctantly. He then reminded her he had been to New Jersey before. “Remember, I had dinner at your place?”
How could she have forgotten? Of course she hadn’t. “But that was at night. You haven’t seen New Jersey during the day.” As they got into Marjorie’s Mercedes sports car and they drove out of the station onto Broad Street, Kumar wasn’t sure that this was a place to brag about. As he looked at the homeless and the filth on the street, he felt that his little village in the foothills of the Himalayas was cleaner. And they call this part of the world advanced, he thought to himself but made sure he kept those feelings to himself.
But soon he was being whisked away along the highway through the leafy suburbs of Newark and as the minutes passed, the scenery changed and about an hour later they were pulling up at the entrance to Greenbriar Country Club, where he sat in the car for a second wondering if the next move was up to him, or to the young man dressed in white who hovered next to his door. He took his cue from Marjorie and got out of the car. It was only then he realised how low to the ground it was.
The smiling boy with hair plastered to his skull held the door open for him and wished him a cheery good morning. Kumar just smiled, because that’s what Marjorie did, and then joined her on the first step leading up to the grand entrance which was to open him up to a different way of life.
“I hope you brought your bathing suit,” Marjorie said removing her sunglasses and waving to a woman who passed by them.
“Why would I do that?” he asked in all sincerity.
“Oh silly,” she answered, “I said we were going to have lunch at the pool.”
“Yes you did. But does one have to be in a bathing suit to have lunch at the pool?”
“No, you can have lunch dressed the way you are,” she remarked and Kumar wondered if being in a pair of light weight summer slacks and a polo shirt would be looked down upon. “But I thought it might get too warm for you.” Kumar reminded Marjorie he was from India and from where he came, this was spring. Marjorie laughed and agreed.
“But,” asked Kumar before they walked through the grand entrance into the Greenbriar Country Clubhouse, “I have a question for you before we walk in. Why am I here?” Marjorie looked at him a little confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I really appreciate this, but why did you ask me to dinner to meet your parents a couple of months ago and then here today at the country club?”
Marjorie was lost for words. “Can we discuss this over lunch?” she asked as they entered the grand doorway to the clubhouse. Kumar’s reply was lost in a giant rush of air from the overhead air conditioning unit which took his breath away.