Read Online The Sound of Language by Amulya Malladi - Free Book Online
Authors: Amulya Malladi
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next day she decided she'd clean the living and dining rooms as well. The Danish man had gone right ahead and left coffee cups and dirty plates all over the counters and sink. How could he have made such a mess in one evening?
She got the mop and vacuum cleaner from the garage and started cleaning. She didn't say anything to the Danish man and he didn't say anything to her. When she came into the living room armed with the vacuum cleaner, he scuttled farther inside the house. Raihana didn't want to clean any more rooms than she was already cleaning; she especially didn't want to think about the bathroom. There was a small toilet attached to the honey room, which she used. That bathroom had been neat and tidy, pretty pink curtains on the small window and a bar of pink soap in the sink. The pink towel was dirty, so Raihana had brought her own. It was also pink and Raihana took it home with her every other day to wash.
The dining room was narrow with a red-and-black carpet on the wooden floor. The dining table was huge and seated twelve. There had been dust on the table, greasy and thick, when Raihana first walked in. Now it gleamed with the furniture oil she had found under the sink.
The living room had a big sofa, two comfortable leather chairs, and a coffee table. There were knickknacks on the mantelpiece and on a shelf next to the television. Raihana dusted and wiped off everything and then vacuumed.
The Danish man didn't say thank you and he didn't say stop, so Raihana continued to clean. After a week of cleaning part of the house, she itched to clean the rest, just so that she'd have something to do. But before she could, the Danish man opened the door one morning and told her they would be melting foundation wax on the frames that day.
“Does he teach you everything about bees?” Layla asked as Raihana put the last of the diced mutton into the big pot she was making biriyani in.
“Not really,” Raihana said. “He just sits in his house and watches TV. I do everything myself.”
“Do you go inside the house a lot?” Layla wanted to know.
Raihana knew she couldn't tell the truth about how she spent a good part of her day inside his house, cleaning it. Both Kabir and Layla were paranoid about white men and had made her promise that she would stay out in the open and not go into the house where she would be alone with him.
It amused Raihana that Kabir didn't worry about Layla spending time in a grocery store after hours, alone with other workers, some of them Danish men, but was afraid for Raihana because she was alone with a frail old man.
Layla looked around to make sure neither Kabir nor Shahrukh was around. “Has he … you know … tried anything?”
Raihana stared at Layla for a second, unable to understand what she was asking, and then sighed in exasperation. “I told you, his wife died recently and he's still mourning.”
“Just because someone's wife died doesn't mean they don't try to you know …,” Layla said. “Be careful. If he tries anything, anything inappropriate, you should leave. Promise me, Raihana.”
Raihana couldn't imagine that sad man would ever do anything improper with her. He barely noticed her, but she knew better than most that people changed and that without reason, those you trust could become enemies.
“I promise,” she said.
· · ·
Gunnar would not have mentioned anything about the Afghan girl if it weren't for Maria's nagging. Why didn't she nag her husband instead?
She called almost every day and finally, to end her incessant talk about how Gunnar should come live with them in Odense for a while, especially since he was not taking care of bees this season, he told her that he had hired someone to help him.
“Hired? From where? Who?” Maria asked.
Reluctant to say much about Raihana, he told her that Christina had recommended someone. He ignored Maria's further questions about the gender, age, and identity of the someone he had hired.
He felt
She got the mop and vacuum cleaner from the garage and started cleaning. She didn't say anything to the Danish man and he didn't say anything to her. When she came into the living room armed with the vacuum cleaner, he scuttled farther inside the house. Raihana didn't want to clean any more rooms than she was already cleaning; she especially didn't want to think about the bathroom. There was a small toilet attached to the honey room, which she used. That bathroom had been neat and tidy, pretty pink curtains on the small window and a bar of pink soap in the sink. The pink towel was dirty, so Raihana had brought her own. It was also pink and Raihana took it home with her every other day to wash.
The dining room was narrow with a red-and-black carpet on the wooden floor. The dining table was huge and seated twelve. There had been dust on the table, greasy and thick, when Raihana first walked in. Now it gleamed with the furniture oil she had found under the sink.
The living room had a big sofa, two comfortable leather chairs, and a coffee table. There were knickknacks on the mantelpiece and on a shelf next to the television. Raihana dusted and wiped off everything and then vacuumed.
The Danish man didn't say thank you and he didn't say stop, so Raihana continued to clean. After a week of cleaning part of the house, she itched to clean the rest, just so that she'd have something to do. But before she could, the Danish man opened the door one morning and told her they would be melting foundation wax on the frames that day.
“Does he teach you everything about bees?” Layla asked as Raihana put the last of the diced mutton into the big pot she was making biriyani in.
“Not really,” Raihana said. “He just sits in his house and watches TV. I do everything myself.”
“Do you go inside the house a lot?” Layla wanted to know.
Raihana knew she couldn't tell the truth about how she spent a good part of her day inside his house, cleaning it. Both Kabir and Layla were paranoid about white men and had made her promise that she would stay out in the open and not go into the house where she would be alone with him.
It amused Raihana that Kabir didn't worry about Layla spending time in a grocery store after hours, alone with other workers, some of them Danish men, but was afraid for Raihana because she was alone with a frail old man.
Layla looked around to make sure neither Kabir nor Shahrukh was around. “Has he … you know … tried anything?”
Raihana stared at Layla for a second, unable to understand what she was asking, and then sighed in exasperation. “I told you, his wife died recently and he's still mourning.”
“Just because someone's wife died doesn't mean they don't try to you know …,” Layla said. “Be careful. If he tries anything, anything inappropriate, you should leave. Promise me, Raihana.”
Raihana couldn't imagine that sad man would ever do anything improper with her. He barely noticed her, but she knew better than most that people changed and that without reason, those you trust could become enemies.
“I promise,” she said.
· · ·
Gunnar would not have mentioned anything about the Afghan girl if it weren't for Maria's nagging. Why didn't she nag her husband instead?
She called almost every day and finally, to end her incessant talk about how Gunnar should come live with them in Odense for a while, especially since he was not taking care of bees this season, he told her that he had hired someone to help him.
“Hired? From where? Who?” Maria asked.
Reluctant to say much about Raihana, he told her that Christina had recommended someone. He ignored Maria's further questions about the gender, age, and identity of the someone he had hired.
He felt
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