10 The Root Canals of Mongol Pande -2
The kyan believe dat!" said Clarence, having no idea of the topic.
Denzel blew his nose into a
napkin. "Troof be tol, me nah like to believe any ting. Hear no evil,
see no evil, speak no evil. Dat my motto."
"He was the
tickle in the
sneeze, Archibald. It is as simple as that. I do believe that."
There was quiet for a minute. Archibald watched three sugar cubes dissolve in his teacup. Then,
rather tentatively, he said, "I've got my own theory, you know. Separate from the books, I mean."
Samad bowed. "Please
enlighten us."
"Don't get angry, now .. . But just think for a minute. Why is a
strict religious man like Pande
drinking bhang? Seriously, I know I tease you about it. But why is he?"
"You know my opinion on that. He isn't. He didn't. It was English propaganda."
"And he was a good shot..."
"No doubt about it. A. S. Misra produces a copy of a record stating that Pande trained in a
special guard for one year,
specially trained in the use of muskets."
"OK. So: why does he miss? Why?"
"It is my belief that the only possible explanation is that the gun was faulty."
"Yes .. . there is that. But, maybe, maybe something else. Maybe he was being bullied into
going out there and making a row, you know, goaded, by the other guys. And he didn't want to kill
anyone in the first place, you know. So he pretended to be drunk, so the boys in the barracks room
would believe he missed the shot."
"That is quite the stupidest theory I have ever heard," sighed Samad, as the second hand of
Mickey's egg-stained clock started the thirty-second countdown to midnight. "The kind only you
could come up with. It's absurd."
"Why?"
"Why? Archibald, these Englishmen, these Captain Hearsays, Havelocks and the rest, were
every Indian's
mortal enemy. Why should he spare lives he despised?"
"Maybe he just couldn't do it. Maybe he wasn't the type."
"Do you really believe there is a type of man who kills and a type of man who doesn't?"
"Maybe Sam, maybe not."
"You sound like my wife," groaned Samad, mopping up a final piece of egg, 'let me tell you
something, Archibald. A man is a man is a man. His family threatened, his beliefs attacked, his way
of life destroyed, his whole world coming to an end he will kill. Make no mistake. He won't let the
new order roll over him without a struggle. There will be people he will kill."
"And there will be people he will save," said Archie Jones, with a cryptic look his friend would
have thought an impossible feat for those sagging, chubby features. "Trust me."
"Five! Four! Tree! Two! One! Jamaica Me!" said Denzel and Clarence, raising hot Irish coffees
to each other in a toast, then immediately resuming round nine of the dominoes.
"HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR!"bellowedMickey.from behind the counter.
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