Chapter 28 Rama
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Rama
“Rama. What are you doing here?” The expression on my father’s face is one of stunned confusion.
I’d waited at home all day, hoping he might return for lunch as he sometimes does, but it’s after six p.m. when he walks into the house. Fortunately, Chinda is away traveling with friends, so I didn’t have to answer her questions.
“I need to speak with you, Pah,” I say quietly.
Setting his black leather briefcase on the table, my father turns a stern gaze on me. “Answer my question. Why are you here and not in America?”
“The company ended my internship.”
“What? Why?” His hand goes to his cell phone in his pocket, and I know his first instinct is to call Darren Gains.
“I’ve had some…health issues,” I hedge, dread creeping over me.
“What sort of health issues? Why wasn’t I informed? Look at me when I speak to you, Rama!”
This has been a matter of contention between us for years. I hate looking at him because when I do Aunt Sunnee’s eyes stare back at me. My father considers it disrespectful.
“Rama—”
“Pah, please,” I interrupt, clasping my hands together to stop them from shaking.
Starting toward me, he stops mid-step. Crossing his arms over his chest, he demands, “Explain.”
I swallow hard. I don’t think anything short of a terrible accident would justify the end of my internship to my father. I really don’t think he’s going to take mental and emotional turmoil as an excuse. He’ll say I’m weak. He’ll claim I’m lying.
Breaking into a sweat, feeling like a two-ton weight is sitting on my chest, I struggle to breathe normally.
“What’s wrong with you?” My father stares at me. “Are you ill?”
“Please just listen.” Moving my gaze to a spot on the wall above my father’s right shoulder, I begin.
“The summer after Mah died, something happened. Something I’ve never been able to get over, although I’ve tried.
” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’ve really tried.
” Taking another deep breath, I let it out slowly, not daring to look at my father’s face.
I’ve said this much, I can say it all. “We went to America and were staying with Aunt Sunnee and Uncle Roger.” Just saying her name costs me what little courage I’ve built up.
Trembling, my voice breaks. “Pah…” My eyes dart to his face. He’s listening, brow furrowed.
Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I forge on, spitting the words out as fast as I can, not allowing myself to dwell on the memory.
“Our first night there, Aunt Sunnee came into my room. She got into bed with me. She t-touched me. Inappropriately. More than once. It happened several times on that trip.”
A thick silence falls over the room. When it stretches so long I can’t bear it anymore, I force out the rest of the story.
“When she showed up at Pete’s last week, I freaked out.
I haven’t seen her in all these years. I tried to forget, but there she was—looking at me.
Acting like I should be happy to see her.
How could she not know how much I h-hate her after what she did to me?
I just…shut down. I couldn’t focus on work.
I was a mess. I’m still a mess. But it doesn’t matter, Pah.
I hated the internship. I don’t want to work at your company.
I know you’ve said that we can’t always enjoy what we do for a living, but I do enjoy acting, Pah.
I want to continue with that.” I bolt to the bathroom and empty my stomach into the toilet.
When I return, my father stands at the window looking out.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asks, voice tight.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of hurting you.”
“So, you didn’t tell anyone?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m sorry. I know now it wasn’t the right thing to do. It’s only hurt me in the long run.”
Abruptly, Pah turns and stalks past me into his office, slamming the door behind him. I’m so shocked, I can only stare. I hear him pacing on the hard wood floor on the other side of the door, then suddenly he shouts, “What did you to do my son, Sunnee?”
My mouth falls open and I forget to breathe.
“The truth! Rama just told me everything, and as God is my witness, this is your only chance to have your say.” There’s a long pause, and then Pah shouts a string of obscenities, and I hear something hit the wall and clatter to the floor just before an unearthly shout rips from his throat. Staggering back, I fall onto the couch.
For several long moments, the only sound in the room is the ticking of the clock on the mantel. Then the office door opens and my father walks out, his tie loosened around his neck and fists clenched.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, staring at him in horror. I’ve never seen my father look like that.
When he turns to me with a tortured gaze, he looks nothing like Sunnee. “There’s no reason to be sorry, Rama.” Slowly relaxing his hands, he clears his throat. “I wish you had been able to tell me this a long time ago, but I understand why you didn’t.”
I want to ask him what Aunt Sunnee said to him on the phone just now, but I can’t bring myself to do it. “I-I tried to go back to the internship,” I say instead. “I just couldn’t keep my mind on what I was doing. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, son.” Coming to stand beside me, he rests his hand on my shoulder.
I’m so surprised, I can only sit rigidly on the couch.
Tentatively, he asks, “Is this why you became so quiet over the years? You used to enjoy doing things with me. Then you suddenly stopped. I thought it was just part of becoming a teenager.”
“I don’t think you realize how strong the resemblance is between you and Aunt Sunnee,” I say miserably.
Sounding choked, my father replies, “Rama, I’m going to get you the help you need.”
I can only nod as he bends and wraps his arms around me in the first hug I’ve had from him since I was a kid.