for criminal identification.” He opened his mouth to say something else, then promptly closed it.
“Why did you come out of university in America? You said you were not born there.” Words tumbled from her lips in an effort to break down the walls that shut her out. “Where were you born?”
“In India, actually.”
Parineeta frowned. “Then how did you end up back …”
“It’s a long story.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I have time, Mr. Warren.” Her eyes widened. Warren what? “I do not even know your true identity.”
“It’s not important right now.” He stood and pulled his shirt back on, stretching his arm into the starched sleeves. Parineeta had expected him to continue, but instead he remained silent while he pushed each button carefully through the holes, clearly ignoring her.
She thought about protesting, but a rustling in the bushes made her think twice about making any sound. Holding her breath, she put out the fire with as little noise as possible.
Warren leaned against the thick tree trunk that hid them from one angle and craned his neck. Jungle leaves surrounded them on all sides, but suddenly the protection felt lacking. Parineeta backed up against a nearby tree trunk and watched his hand fall to his pocket, where she knew one of the pistols still lay. She began to hear sounds from the other side of the trunk. Maybe it was just an animal.
But as the noises continued, they grew in clarity until it sounded like chatter. Voices. Clearly British voices. Now she could hear the stomping of heavy boots. She knew British soldiers sometimes patrolled villages in the early morning but never dense jungles in the middle of the night.
“Heard there’s a general on the run. Don’t know why though,” one of the men said. The closer his boots swung toward the direction of their alcove, the louder Parineeta could hear her own heartbeat roaring within her ears. “Lieutenant colonel said they’d be somewhere in this bloody jungle. Do you know anything about the general?”
“Took his secret Indian darkie wife with him, the tale goes. Load of rubbish, if you ask me.” The other man seemed to be stepping in the opposite direction. “No respectable gent would dare marry a half-blood coolie.”
“Can’t be marriage.”
The other man snickered. “You’re right. Probably just wanted a little fun.”
She clenched her fists. It took everything within her to remain silent at the derogatory terms. As if her race did not possess any feeling! As if she were any less of a human than the rest of them!
The men continued to march in silence, and after a few minutes even the sounds of their footsteps faded away. Parineeta couldn’t imagine that she would have felt much worse had they actually discovered them.
Warren breathed an audible sigh of relief. “That was close. We need to get out of here.” He finished buttoning the top of his shirt. “We’ll try to find the nearest town and stay there for…” His voice trailed off. “Are you all right?”
She remained silent, mulling over the men’s words.
No one would dare marry a half-blood coolie
.
No one.
“I said, are you all right?” He placed a heavy hand on the top of her shoulder. “Is it because of what those men said?”
Perhaps.
She remained silent.
“They are wrong, you know. I’ve never approved of that word.”
It was strange how a simple phrase could cause a greater ache than a physical wound. “It wasn’t the word; it was the way they used it.”
“That no one would ever marry you?” He spoke aloud the words echoing in her mind. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful. You’re smarter than any woman I’ve ever met. Why wouldn’t someone marry you?”
The surge of hope and surprise at his compliment was quickly smothered by the reality she recognized within the reply. He was only saying such things to comfort her. “A smart mouth has little value in my village. I am a half-caste, Warren. I do
“Why did you come out of university in America? You said you were not born there.” Words tumbled from her lips in an effort to break down the walls that shut her out. “Where were you born?”
“In India, actually.”
Parineeta frowned. “Then how did you end up back …”
“It’s a long story.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I have time, Mr. Warren.” Her eyes widened. Warren what? “I do not even know your true identity.”
“It’s not important right now.” He stood and pulled his shirt back on, stretching his arm into the starched sleeves. Parineeta had expected him to continue, but instead he remained silent while he pushed each button carefully through the holes, clearly ignoring her.
She thought about protesting, but a rustling in the bushes made her think twice about making any sound. Holding her breath, she put out the fire with as little noise as possible.
Warren leaned against the thick tree trunk that hid them from one angle and craned his neck. Jungle leaves surrounded them on all sides, but suddenly the protection felt lacking. Parineeta backed up against a nearby tree trunk and watched his hand fall to his pocket, where she knew one of the pistols still lay. She began to hear sounds from the other side of the trunk. Maybe it was just an animal.
But as the noises continued, they grew in clarity until it sounded like chatter. Voices. Clearly British voices. Now she could hear the stomping of heavy boots. She knew British soldiers sometimes patrolled villages in the early morning but never dense jungles in the middle of the night.
“Heard there’s a general on the run. Don’t know why though,” one of the men said. The closer his boots swung toward the direction of their alcove, the louder Parineeta could hear her own heartbeat roaring within her ears. “Lieutenant colonel said they’d be somewhere in this bloody jungle. Do you know anything about the general?”
“Took his secret Indian darkie wife with him, the tale goes. Load of rubbish, if you ask me.” The other man seemed to be stepping in the opposite direction. “No respectable gent would dare marry a half-blood coolie.”
“Can’t be marriage.”
The other man snickered. “You’re right. Probably just wanted a little fun.”
She clenched her fists. It took everything within her to remain silent at the derogatory terms. As if her race did not possess any feeling! As if she were any less of a human than the rest of them!
The men continued to march in silence, and after a few minutes even the sounds of their footsteps faded away. Parineeta couldn’t imagine that she would have felt much worse had they actually discovered them.
Warren breathed an audible sigh of relief. “That was close. We need to get out of here.” He finished buttoning the top of his shirt. “We’ll try to find the nearest town and stay there for…” His voice trailed off. “Are you all right?”
She remained silent, mulling over the men’s words.
No one would dare marry a half-blood coolie
.
No one.
“I said, are you all right?” He placed a heavy hand on the top of her shoulder. “Is it because of what those men said?”
Perhaps.
She remained silent.
“They are wrong, you know. I’ve never approved of that word.”
It was strange how a simple phrase could cause a greater ache than a physical wound. “It wasn’t the word; it was the way they used it.”
“That no one would ever marry you?” He spoke aloud the words echoing in her mind. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful. You’re smarter than any woman I’ve ever met. Why wouldn’t someone marry you?”
The surge of hope and surprise at his compliment was quickly smothered by the reality she recognized within the reply. He was only saying such things to comfort her. “A smart mouth has little value in my village. I am a half-caste, Warren. I do
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