Free The Weight of Heaven by Thrity Umrigar Page B

having some whisky myself. And
    the ladies are drinking gin and tonics, I think.”
    “Actually, a beer sounds better than anything. It’s damn hot
    today.” Frank kept his arm around Ellie.
    “A Heineken it is,” Shashi said, and Ellie grinned to herself. It
    was one of Nandita’s pet peeves, how Shashi refused to drink or
    serve Indian beer at home.
    “Dinner will be ready in a half hour, yes?” Nandita said. “Let’s
    sit and relax until then.” She turned to Frank. “How have you been,
    stranger?”
    He sighed. “Okay, I think. I’m sure you’ve heard about—the
    situation.” He paused, took a long gulp of his beer. “It’s hard. Everybody’s nerves are shot.” He hesitated and glanced at his hosts, as
    if he was unsure whether to go on. “I—I’m not really good at reading the labor situation. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like a clumsy
    Ugly American than I do these days. The way you—they—do
    business here is so different than—” He turned to Shashi, making a
    visible effort to lighten his tone. “So, any words of advice, Shash?”
    Ellie felt the muscles in her stomach tighten. Please don’t let
    Shashi be flippant, or worse, enigmatic, she prayed. Please don’t let
    him rebuff Frank.
    But Shashi’s tone was sympathetic, sincere. “Hard to know what
    to do, Frank. It’s a bad situation. My best advice would be—settle.
    Give them a little of what they’re asking for. Make them feel like
    they won something. A few rupees here and there won’t matter so
    much to your company. You can recover it somewhere else. But to
    these people, it will mean a lot.”
    Ellie had raised the same point over dinner yesterday, and Frank
    had bristled, told her she didn’t understand the mindset of the Indian
    worker. So she was surprised to hear him say, “Not so easy, Shashi.
    Th e We i g h t o f H e av e n
    5 9
    I’d like nothing more than to give in. But there’s so much pressure
    from headquarters, you have no idea.”
    “Bollocks.” It was Nandita. “These people live in wretched conditions—ask your wife, she has seen where and how they live. Tell
    her to speak to your boss in Ann Arbor about what she sees in the
    villages. Two less expense-account lunches a month for him will
    pay for their raises.” Shashi tried to lay a warning hand on her, but
    she shook it off and turned to face Frank again. “Listen. You’re my
    friend. So I tell you, settle this. I’m an atheist, you know that. But
    one thing I believe: one should only pick fights with those who can
    fight back. And these people can’t, Frank. They’re poor, hungry,
    weak. But don’t they have the right to eat just like we do? Or any
    American does? HerbalSolutions makes enough profit here. Shit,
    you could double their salaries and still make a profit. You know
    that. It’s obscene to—”
    “Nandita,” Shashi said, and they all heard the iron in his voice.
    She suddenly looked chastised. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry,
    Frank. Sorry, El. You know how I get carried away.”
    For a second, it was awkward in the room, with all four of them
    looking at the floor, but then Frank said, “That’s what we love about
    you, Nan. You’re a true friend.”
    It sounded so much like the old Frank, sincere and guileless,
    that Ellie felt teary. Despite the few bumps and moments of awkwardness, there was something restorative about this evening, she
    thought. “This reminds me of grad school,” she heard herself say.
    “You know, we’d sit up nights arguing and almost coming to blows
    over all kinds of issues. But we were all as close as this.” She crossed
    her fingers.
    Nandita smiled slyly. “And to complete the grad school fantasy
    camp, we have some aids,” she said. She disappeared from the room
    and returned a few minutes later with a carved wooden box and rolling paper. “I just got some real good weed from one of my contacts,”
    she said proudly. “I thought, maybe after dinner?”
    6 0 Th