No Pain Like This Body by Harold Sonny Ladoo Page B

too busy sending the rain to drown the earth.
    â€œStop prayin!” Nanny shouted.
    But Nanna closed his eyes even tighter and prayed more and more.
    Nanny pushed him and said, “Stop prayin you modderass! De chirens sick. Give dem de skopian bush.”
    Nanna opened his eyes and said that the prayers were going to work, because the Aryan gods were willing to help. “Look! Give de chirens de medicine!”
    â€œOright!” Nanna shouted.
    Nanna bent down, picked up the leaves and went into the kitchen. He washed them out with the rainwater that fell from the thatched roof. Then he took the rolling pin and ground the leaves. When he was satisfied, he threw the leaves into a Iota, then he poured some water into the brassware and stirred the water with his fingers. He tasted the mixture. It was bitterish, but good. He walked out of the kitchen with the bush medicine.
    â€œDrink half Balraj and Leff half for Rama,” Nanna directed.
    Balraj drank half of the medicine and gave the Iota to Rama; Balraj didn’t make a bad face or anything like that; he just handed the iota to Rama, wiped his mouth with the rice-bag, and remained quiet as a stone. But Rama didn’t even bother to drink; he just handed Nanna the Iota and lied down on the bags as a dead dog.
    Rama was too sick; he couldn’t even sit up properly. He was lying down on the ricebags without even bothering to groan.
    â€œRama feelin good,” Nanna said. “He not even groanin. De prayers workin now.”
    â€œGive Rama some medicine!” Nanny shouted.
    â€œBut de prayers workin. If de prayers cant help no medi­cine cant help!”
    â€œYou just give dat chile dat medicine!”
    Nanna grumbled, but he bent down, lifted Rama’s head, and put the Iota to his lips. Rama took a long time to drink; even so, he drank just a little. Then Nanna rested him on the ricebags again.
    Nanny stood looking at Balraj and Rama. She felt sorry for them. She wanted them to sleep, because once they were asleep, they would have nothing to fear. Nanny unstrung the drum from around her neck. She sat on the slippery floor with her back resting against the tapia wall, then she heated the drum slowly. Nanny was a good drummer, the best in Tola. Her fingers moved slow and clever. Nanny swayed from side to side as if she was trying hard to make the drum talk. Ma and Sunaree danced. Panday listened. But Nanna was stand­ing as a carat tree and praying hard like hell. Suddenly the drumming ended. Nanny stood up as a cane shoot. Rama was vomiting orks sputs orks sputs. . . . He was vomiting as if he was dying; vomiting green green on the ricebags.
    â€œO God me chile deadin!” Ma screamed.
    Ma ran and held on to Rama; he was still vomiting; his eyes were closed, but he was seeing, just as jumbie bird sees in daylight.
    Nanna opened his eyes and said, “He not deadin. Have patience. God goin to drive dat spirit away.”
    And Nanny: “Stop prayin oldman! Go and get a horse cart and take dese chirens to Tolaville Haspital.”
    â€œI not goin,” Nanna replied. “God have to drive dat spirit away!”
    Nanny ran up to Nanna. She told him that he had to get the horse cart and carry Balraj and Rama to Tolaville Hospital, because the prayers were of no use.
    â€œBut de river too high up,” Nanna cooed.
    â€œTo hell wid de river! Take dese chirens to de hospital else dey goin to dead in dis house.”
    Nanny was talking hard, but Nanna was talking easy. He said he needed a horse cart, but he reminded Nanny he had
    no horse cart. The hospital was three miles away; he couldn’t carry them on his head. Tola River was high; even if he got a horse cart borrow in Rajput Road he couldn’t cross Tola River with the cart to come to the house.
    â€œSwim dat river and borrow a horse cart!” Nanny shouted. Nanna explained that the river was going burp burp . . . the night birds were going craw craw craw. The