06.2 Deeni

Two months later, towards the end of April, Footloose Habib returned shortly after Ramadan. He stayed at a house called Askeni on Vinamathi Higun in Maaran near the slipway in Maradu. Habib used to play chess at a tavern called Koka on Athiri Magu. A dinette inside, a counter selling cigarettes and drinks procured from the base in Gan and the floor three feet high. Folks played chess under the porch.

Mariam Mala cycled to Maradu to meet Habib. She came to know many people by now. Sometimes she sat on the parapet obliviously swinging her bums to the roadside and watch them play.

There stayed another cop on the island; a Lance Corporal Wafir. Folks referred to them as sardar. Both maintained low-key not to stir the inhabitants but have their trust.

Meanwhile, ships were sailing and 800 men and women from the islands were called to work at the base. They made trips on boats and returned by nightfall. It did disturb the central government however there happened to be no stern notice.

Mariam Mala biked up the Marine Drive and crossed the causeway. She wore a white flare dress with a sparse pattern of tiny red flowers and her dress caught in the wind. She stopped at the Atoll Office on Mahan Magu and entered. Read the notice board and came out. There she saw Huzeir crossing the road. “Come here!” she called, “You promised not to run. I figure that you haven’t occurred since. I was kind of expecting you.”

He wore a grin as he approached, pants hung loose below the hips. A shirtless fellow, sixteen years old and white like a faranji.

Mala turned her bicycle around, “Are you going to come, Ali?”

He nodded.

“Wow!” cried Mala, “Don’t you ever get a tan!”

He crossed his arms on his bare chest, still grinning at her without saying much.

She stood four inches taller than him. “You left Nuz. What’s wrong? Are you looking for older women?”

He continued to grin.

“What age is best to have sex?” asked Mariam Mala teasingly.

“Thirty,” he smiled to show a diastema gap in the front teeth as if he grew up sucking his thumb.

“You’re kidding! How old am I, Ali?”

“Twenty…” he said.

“You don’t have too many thoughts, do you?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t show surprises!” Mala climbed the bike and pushed off.

Mala went to Koka in search of Habib. He wasn’t there. She turned around and cycled over half a mile to Askeni. Again, cycled back to Koka.

She climbed the steps and announced, “There’s an interpreter’s job at the base on the notice board. Anyone interested?”

Someone among the chess players said, “Why don’t you take the job?”

“I’m thinking about it,” uttered Mala, “I want to get that smell of sterling.”

“You must never educate a woman,” a guy expressed, “See! She’d never get married.”

She squeezed in between two men and sat down on the parapet. A woman resonated, “He is right, Deeni. If you turn thirty, you end up with an impotent guy.”

The men swore all together.

“Watch your mouth, bitch!”

“I still got it! You won’t be able to tame it down!”

“Mine never tumbles!”

“No woman I screw can forget me!”

“I can husk a coconut!”

“I have more roots than a coco-palm!”

“Cow gets old but the horn stays bone!”

That woman disseminated, “Men! You switch off in five minutes! In five minutes!”

Habib folded, “I’m going home. I will be back in an hour.” He left.

After few minutes, Mala rode to Askeni to meet Footloose Habib.

“What were you saying?” asked Habib, “I think you get too occupied if you go there.” He sat on a swing in the lawn.

“It is close to Maranga House. I could possibly get an access and go to the other side to the tube houses.” Mala sat down on the joli straining her glutes through the wide knit of the mesh.

“No,” said Habib, “you are not going to find a clue from there. It’s all in Hittadu.”

“What if I could?”

“You’re not going to start anything!”

“No!”

“How is the progress with Don Raha?”

“He’s done,” said Mala, “I am ready.”

“Very well then,” he said, “but I cannot call Saeed. I didn’t bring the radio. And Wafir is going home for a month. I must stay. We are not ready yet. Remember, Deeni, this has to go on for months according to plan.”

“The job won’t wait,” said Mala.

Habib paused to think, “Well alright, go take the job.”

That afternoon, Huzeir visited Finiveli with a gift of Addu Bondi – a sweet confection. “My sister prepared them for you.” He wore a white shirt and a pair of trousers.

“Thank you,” returned Mala, “You look very decent today. Come, let’s sit on the deck!” She did all the talking and he just grinned and nodded. He showed his respect in a manner he knew and it was very polite.