To Naren and Pauline
Too Thin a Thread
There was a large crowd at the quay as usual. Though this time at least all the Dover, if not all the England seemed to go to Lisbon. It was wholly impossible to force ones way to the front rows of passengers, moreover, it was useless it was easier to follow the crowd. But Maria was highly irritated at that. She hated being in a crush, so, she elbowed her way forward energetically. It was easier for her to endure the attack of the crowd behind her, than to be squeezed from all sides. People who were on her way didnt dare to disturb this strong and resolute woman.
Maria was a slender brunette of medium height with bright brown eyes. Its hardly possible to call a woman about forty a young one, but Maria looked thirty, no older. She belonged to that kind of beauties, who had never been married. She certainly had had love affaires, but went no further than engagement. It might have been connected with her work. She was a poetess and recited her verses herself. It was a proud and highly independent woman. People admired her, but preferred to keep a distance with her.
Maria was not at all in a good mood. She considered her journey to England a failure. She didnt manage to find an editor for a collection of her poems. Sometimes Maria regretted she undertook this journey instead of staying at home, in Canada.
Maria looked at the ship and suddenly stopped. She noticed a strange couple at the deck: a tall, stout man in simple travelling dress with dark face, probably, from India, and a graceful fair woman near him. The man turned back and glanced at the shore. His glance! It was so piercing, that one who met it felt not quite oneself. Moreover, it seemed to Maria that among all the people moving along the quay it was she whom he searched for. She was surprized, but quickly came to herself and went ahead, promising herself to find out, who this man was.
Maria was having dinner at restaurant, sitting alone at the table and watching the hall. The Indian man and the English woman, those she saw during the embarkation, drew her particular attention. Chander and Eleanor Now she knew whore they, though she hadnt been introduced to them yet. Chander was a famous preacher, scholar and philosopher, he studied the Vedas, though he had given up his activities lately. Eleanor was his closest disciple and followed him everywhere. They kept silence at the table and looked like people, who got accustommed to each others company long time ago. Chanders gaze didnt burn with pain and bitterness any more, but his great black eyes were sad. All his appearance showed aloofness. It was aloofness, not pensiveness. He seemed to be interested neither in what was going around nor inside him. He showed complete indifference to himself. Maria found it strange and was even frightened. She looked at Eleanor. It was quite a young lady, nice and attractive in every respect, but worn-out. She looked like a woman who had been married for many years and was rather tired of her marriage. But Maria knew, that Eleanor and Chander were neither husband and wife nor even lovers.
Eleanors large grey eyes were so sad, that Maria didnt feel quite herself. Gazing at mournful figures of these two people, she suddenly wanted to live and to be happy more than ever.
To live meant for Maria to recite verses. She performed at London salons a couple of times, but she wasnt going to do it at the ship. But now Maria changed her mind. Putting on her best dress, she went to make arrangements of her evening performance. Her proposal was accepted with pleasure, and after supper she appeared before the audience in a mess-room.
Maria was a real actress and poetess. She didnt play at the stage she lived there the whole life. Her verses called to fight with evil, injustice, everything which obstracts living, they called to peace between nations and individuals. They expressed a peculiar tender feeling to all that grow, run and breathe. And, certainly, most of her verses were about love.
Maria noticed, that Chanders dimmed eyes sparkled again. These burning eyes seemed to be the only link between the external world and himself. An invisible tie established between them. Maria unwittingly put more feeling into her verses than ever. It seemed to her she almost won, though she didnt know what she fought against. But Maria didnt want to yield. She was unable to yield.
After the performance Maria felt tired and jaded. Even warm applauses and delight of the audience didnt please her. She refused to perform in the subsequent days in a polite, but firm manner, and went to her room.
Maria put the bag on the bed, opened it and touched a strange buckskin dress with ermine tails. Why didnt she put it on this evening? Maria looked in the mirrow and ran her hand over her face. The older she is, the more apparent the Indian blood she inherited from her father, the chief of Iroquois, becomes in her. Maria thought about her folk Indians, about her verses she dedicated to them. Then she thought about Chander. She recalled his elderly, but still handsome face, his glance, sometimes sparkling, sometimes aloof. There was peace in all his figure, and he tried not to draw attention to himself. But several years ago
Several years ago Chander created a furore in America. He visited almost all the US cities and towns with his propagation of human greatness and equality of religions and had great success everywhere. People applauded him heartily after every his performance. Women went mad of him. His popularity was hysterical. Newspapers wrote about him both with admiration and disgust.
Maria recalled the words of her friend from Toronto, who had seen Chander either in Boston or in New York: "My dear, its so pity you werent there! Its such an orator! He has a voice with a sound of a big dome! And such a man! A real lion! I was astonished!" Maria took it indifferently then. She wasnt interested in foreign preachers at all, regardless, Western or Eastern. Her attitude to religion was rather cool on the whole. And now fate brought her and Chander together, Chander, because of whom women turned chairs over. This thought made Maria laugh. She had no wish to dig up all that she ever heard about Chander further, so, she decided to set an acquaintance with him and went to sleep.
The acquaintance didnt make her wait. When next day Maria was standing at the deck and admiring the ocean, Chander came to her. He had a friendly air.
"Well, you are Mary", he said gaily.
"Yes, I am Mary", she hit his tone.
"Mary-poetess".
Chander smiled, and it seemed to Maria she saw that very man who was once admired by women.
"I like your verses", he said.
"Thank you", said Maria and thought, that his tone meant he did like her verses, they neither astonished nor fascinated him. Nevertheless, his reaction pleased her. Then Chander told her he was very impressed by the strenghth and courage Maria glorified in her poems. They talked about English poetry. Chander showed an extraordinary erudition, and this fact surprized his companion a lot. Maria, a woman-romantic with hardened heart, seemed to soften in the presence of this strange Indian. She admired his splendid bearing, his easy, catlike movements. In spite of the heaviness of his figure he had an inner lightness. Maria felt nice, very nice with him. Anxiety and uneasiness she felt during yesterday performance vanished somewhere. They both didnt notice how swiftly time passed. It was time to have a dinner. Maria and Chander parted like best friends and promised to meet each other in the evening or at least next morning.
After dinner Maria secluded in her room and tried to comprehend, what happened to her. Half a day she was talking to the man, whom she considered rather strange, but with whom she wanted to be acquainted with. And what turned out? He was a clever and friendly gentleman! Maria imagined him in a wholly different way. Maybe his indifference to everything around him existed only in her imagination? He wasnt indifferent to her, to Maria! Maria thought she went a little bit too far. What did she imagine? Wasnt she going to set a love affair with Chander, in her years? Maria considered it ridiculous. She has more than half of her life behind her, and she waits for the meeting with this Indian as if she were a girl! But on the other side, she has a sea journey and wants to spend good time here. What is better than to spend it in Chanders comapany? Maria rose up and shook her beautiful chestnut-coloured hair. Maybe she is not young any more, but she is not an old woman yet, and shes not going to die for a while. She smiled and, in spite of the late evening, went to the deck.
It was a cool evening, autumn was already in the air. Maria wrapped herself up in a woollen kerchief and went to the stern. Chander was standing at the deck and silently looking at the water.
"Hello", Maria said.
"Good evening".
They looked at each other, as if they could express more through the glances, than through words, and smiled.
"What a marvellous night!" Maria noticed with emotion. She wanted to say "romantic", but this definition better applied to Chander. He resembled somebody to her by his melancholic air, and suddenly she understood, whom Child-Harold. This comparison made her laugh, but she said nothing, moreover, Chanders smile wasnt affected and he didnt pose.
They kept silence for a while, and then Maria asked him:
"What are you thinking about at the moment, Chander?"
"I am thinking that we are living in the first year of the new century. What will it be like, this new century? For you, Mary?"
"I have no idea", answered Maria and thought, "I suppose it wont bring me any good". Chander went on, as if talking to himself:
"What will be the main thing in this century? Freedom. People will understand they cant live without it".
"Freedom?" echoed Maria. "I feel free anyway".
"Yes, you do", as if waking up from his own thoughts, said Chander. "I was always free too. I broke all ties, which could bind me to anything".
"You were never married, Chander, werent you?"
"Never".
"Why? You didnt want to take responsibility, did you?"
"Its not the matter. I just had another way. I am a vagrant. I am not born for the domestic life".
Maria smiled, but felt some bitterness inside. She could said exactly the same about herself.
"Its useless now", Chander went on. "My day is over. I am about to leave".
Maria started and asked sharply:
"Are you so seriously ill?"
"Ill? My body is ill, but my spirit is in a very good state. Better than ever".
"Then why are you going to die?"
"I feel I have fulfilled my task. I am tired of this life. I cant say it was bad there were victories, and defeats, and disappointments, but now its over".
"You cant say so, Chander", Maria noticed severely. "Only God knows when we die".
"Well, I probably wont die tomorrow", laughed Chander. "But now I see everything as if from the distance. I am glad I havent bound myself to anyone and havent bound anyone by myself".
"You must live!" exclaimed Maria and almost added "for me".
"I am still alive. There are many beautiful people and beautiful creations in this world, and sometimes I think Ill regret to leave it".
"This is better".
"Tell me, Mary, have you ever been to Lisbon? Is it a beautiful city?"
"Ive never been there, but its said it is very beautiful. To tell the truth, we wont get there soon. Well, Chander, I think its late".
"You are right. And I promised Eleanor to call on her before sleep. I hope I didnt bother you a lot, Mary".
"Not at all. Its very interesting for me to be with you, Chander".
"Then see you tomorrow. Come to the deck at the same time. I invite you for a walk".
"Ill come".
Maria waved good-bye and went in a light step she hadnt had for a long time.
That night she couldnt sleep. Moreover, everything that happened in the last two days seemed a dream to her. Maria met a congenial soul and thought of changing her life. For the first time she wanted passionately to have her own family, but she was afraid this wish would remain only a dream.
Eleanor didnt ask Chander where he came from so late. It was not in her principles. He wasnt going to explain her anything. At night, as usual, Chander had a heart attack, and Eleanor, as a patient nurse, gave him medicine in silence. She did notice a change in him, but gave no comments.
Next day Maria didnt see Chander at all. She began to doubt shed see him in the evening, but she did put on her best dress after supper and was looking in the mirrow for a long time. Maria called herself a fool several times for vain hopes (as she considered them) and tried to be as sceptical as she could. She failed. She rushed out of the room and struck the passengers by her radiant air.
While Maria was going along the deck, one thought was in her head: "And if he dont come!" It seemed to her a doomsday. She tried to persuade herself, that her rendezvous was no more than a nice adventure, but couldnt resist a heart which longed to Chander.
Maria found him at the same place as yesterday. She stood nearby, they gazed at each other for a long time and then looked at the sea.
"I was waiting for you", Maria said suddenly.
"Were you? I came first, to my mind".
"I mean another thing".
Maria became silent. Chander looked at her attentively, turned her head to himself resolutely, and kissed her lips.
She started, but didnt recoil. Maria might await more passion from this kiss, and Chander was quite reserved. But when she looked into his eyes she found tenderness there. He ran his hand over her face affectionately and said:
"You seemed to want it, Mary".
"And you, didnt you want it, Chander?"
"Probably, I did".
They embraced each other, and Maria caressed his breast and shoulders rather voluptuously. Her body was burning. Female shriek made her turn round.
"Ah!!!"
Eleanor, with twisted features, stood in the passage. She glared at Chander and his companion for a moment, and then rushed away.
"Wait me here!" cried Maria. "Ill catch her".
She overtook Eleanor in the corridor and grasped her by the hand.
"Listen to me", Maria said sharply. "Ill explain everything. You got us wrong. We did nothing bad".
"I am sorry", said Eleanor, glancing at Maria with her large sad eyes. "I behaved very silly. Its because of a sudden. Excuse me".
"Doesnt matter. But please dont think ill of me".
"I dont think ill of you at all!" cried Eleanor passionately. Maria smiled.
"I think we should have a talk in a more peaceful place. Lets meet tomorrow somewhere".
"All right. Ill come to you if you like".
"Of course, I do".
Eleanor smiled guiltily, and Maria could only bid farewell to her.
Chander seemed not to go away from the deck and waited Maria. But when he turned round, coldness came from him. It was another man. A monk stood before her instead of a charming gentleman. Struck by this change, Maria couldnt utter a word at first, but finally said with affected easiness and gaiety:
"Well, we cleared up everything with Eleanor".
"Good".
"Then, good night, Chander".
"Good night, Maria".
He kissed her hand politely, and she went to her room in complete confusion.
Next morning Eleanor came to Marias room. She didnt have such a guilty air, as yesterday evening, but felt at ease.
"I am sorry again", said Eleanor. "I am ashamed of yesterday misunderstanding".
"You have nothing to be ashamed of", answered Maria rather coldly. "And stop making excuses".
"You must understand I have no right to intefere into Chanders life. I am only his disciple".
"I think you are exagerrating", Maria noticed, smiling politely. "You should better be called a "wife". They say you follow him everywhere".
"They say!" Eleanor exclaimed bitterly. "Oh yes, they always said a lot about him!"
"I am sorry", Maria murmured and felt uneasy.
They kept silence for some time. The conversation flagged. Maria evaluated Eleanor, her youth and beauty. Eleanor looked at Maria with distrust, but also with hope. And suddenly something burst open.
"Ah, Maria, Maria!" the Englishwoman exclaimed. "If you only could know, if you could only imagine, how afraid I am, how afraid I am for his sake!
"Why do you say so, Eleanor?" being moved, Maria said and took her hands. "What are you afraid of? You do be near him".
"He changed so much, Maria. He became another man. He never was such a man, and I do know him for several years. As if he is indifferent to everything. He sleeps, he eats, he walks, he speaks, but nothing interests him. He is here and not here".
"Chander is ill, Eleanor. Am I right?"
"Yes, he is ill".
"Why dont you treat him?"
"Why do you think so? He went for a treatment to America".
"Well, did it help?"
"Relatively. He seemed to be better. To tell the truth, he often has heart attacks at night. Ive got used to it. Another thing is worse he is moving away from life further and further".
"Its very bad", Maria shook her head.
"I am recalling now, how it began. I worked as a teacher in London, Maria. I had a settled life, I had friends. Only marriage didnt take place. But it didnt trouble me. And then he appeared. Dont think, Maria, I rushed to him at once and fell on his neck. We met at a salon, there were many important people there. I must say I liked Chander at once. But not all his ideas were close to me. We argued a lot. But then I surrendered. I couldnt live without him any more. Do you understand me, Maria?"
"Yes, I do".
"It was a wonderful time. How he spoke with me! What letters he wrote! I am sure, a rare lover receives such letters. I went to India with a wonderful feeling. I was awaited there. He needed me. Chander met me as a queen".
Maria looked at her with amazement. Eleanor changed completely: her face was radiant, her eyes were shining.
"There was no idyll for me there", she went on. "There were a lot of problems. But we overcame everything, because we were together. But then, after two deaths of his close friends, something as if broke in him. He managed to come back to life, he behaved energetically and bravely during the plague: he organized groups for helping sick, surgeries. But it was a temporary return. He was moving away from life, from himself again"
"Did you love him, Eleanor?"
"Did I? Why did I? I do love him, and, I think, Ill always love him".
"Tell me the truth, did you want to marry him?"
Eleanor hesitated to answer.
"I dont know. I didnt think about it. Probably, I wanted. The main thing for me was to be near him".
Maria nodded with understanding. She hadnt come to herself yet after surprize made by the change in Eleanor, though now it was again an unhappy, worn-out woman before her. Suddenly the English woman seized her by the hand and begged:
"Save him, Maria, save Chander! I know you can do it! Your energy, your thirst for life will bring him back".
"What are you talking about, Eleanor, it is you who can save him. Your tenderness, your delicacy will help Chander without fail".
"No, Maria. You are the only one who can bring him back. You are very much alike. I did hear your verses. There is so much will to life, wish to live in them".
"Listen to me, Eleanor", Maria began in a calm and serious voice. "Lets talk frankly. We both love Chander. And we both must save him. We must forget all that nonsense like jealousy. Do you agree with me, Eleanor?"
"Call me Elly. Yes, of course, of course I agree with you. But you should know, Maria: if Chander recovers and decides to go with you, I wont lay any obstacles. I will return to India and will live there again".
"Lets not think about it now, Elly. I am not going to separate you from him. I only want to save him, as you do".
"Oh, Maria, I wasnt mistaken in you".
And both women embraced as old friends.
From that time it seemed to Chander he got two wives, who didnt take his eyes from him. Maria and Eleanor, women who should have been enemies and who suddenly became friends, began to realize their plans to bring him back to life. Chander was deeply shaken by greatness of Marias soul, Maria trying to help him with all her strength, but his health had become worse because of this thought. His heart ached, asthma grew acute. Both women tried to entertain him anyway. Maria recited her verses to him. Elly told him funny stores brought from passengers. Both women devotedly nursed him, when he was ill. But their care was different. Eleanor got used to it long time ago, she was accustommed to smell of drugs. On the contrary, impatient Maria realized she was not a good nurse. It seemed to her she either fell into abyss or stuck in the quag. She had black dreams at night. She was extremely tired, but tried no to show it.
Nevertheless, the troubles were worth undertaking. On the sixth day of their journey Chander was much better. After breakfast he came to the deck and surprized everyone by his fresh look. Maria rejoiced at his recovery, forgot about her weariness and flourished. Eversad Eleanor was afraid of believing in Chanders getting better. But Chander himself didnt doubt he felt well.
He was looking at Maria, who stood a bit farther, and caught himself he couldnt recall what he did in last one year and a half. It seems he received treatment for something and lived somehow. Chander was surprized at such thoughts. He hadnt thought about his life for a long time. Recently his mind was like a glassy surface not disturbed even by breeze, but it cant be said so about his body. Maria, how well she looks, contrary to Eleanor and him, who are both younger than her! Maria did look well: a smile was shining on her face, the wind played in her hair. Catching Chanders glance she waved her hand at him. He answered with a smile. Maria! Why not to give up everything and go with her somewhere, for instance, to America? Most probably, Eleanor wont object. Shell return to India and will take care of an old woman, Krishnas adept, who almost bewitched her. Its so easy, indeed! But but he did promise Eleanor never to part with her! He wrote then something like that: "An elephant only once goes to die and never comes back". So is his word, it cant be taken back. Chander felt hes muddled up. The problem of choice disturbed his mind, and he realized he was loosing the lucidity of it. It was too much for him. He was giddy, he lost balance, and through a mist he saw Marias changed face, she rushing to him, and Eleanor trying to hold him.
In several minutes, Chander lay in his room, and Elly tried to bring him to his senses. Maria was helping her, but suddenly understood she was sick. She could endure no more these wistful eyes, this endless expectation of death, Chanders heart attacks. Maria ran to the deck and, seizing the barrier, breathed out:
"I must go home! I must go home, to Canada! To dear lakes, dear rivers and woods, to dear people! Enough of ruining life!"
Maria didnt like tearful farewells. She parted with Chander and Eleanor without bearing a grudge. Only when they went ashore, Chander turned back, and Maria saw that very piercing glance, as at embarkation. This time she didnt stop. Everything passed. They both looked aside.
Coming back to Canada, Maria was ill for a long time, wandered around the country and finally settled in Vancouver at Western coast. Doctors didnt know how to treat her, they didnt find any illness. Her strength was failing. But will to life was stronger. Friends set her on her feet, and some time later Maria began to write verses and perform again. Success returned to her, but there was bitterness in her soul, and after one of her concerts she said from the stage:
"Please know, my friends, if you managed to help at least one person in your life, you didnt live it for nothing".
The audience rose to applaud her.
One gloomy September day Maria got a letter. The hand was unfamiliar, but she felt in her heart she met the author somewhere. The letter was from Eleanor. She wrote:
"Dear Maria! I dont know how to tell you about this, but I am sure you should know this Chander died. Last 2 years he was happy, he managed to find peace. His death was without suffering. I didnt see it myself I came only next day"
Maria rose up and came to the window. Tears ran over her face, but she was choking with laugh inside. Freedom! It was the main thing in his life, indeed. He was true to himself till his last hour. Neither Eleanor nor she herself got an honour to be present at his death. Poor Elly! How will she live in India alone, without him? Who will torment her now?
Maria drew herself up and wiped tears. Life went on.
The announcement of her next concert was on the table.