Chapter-1
Matilda was fearless. Well, almost. Except for centipedes and cabbage worms, she didn't fear too many things. But if you ask me, she was more clueless than fearless. Not stupid, but clueless. Even at 26, yes, at Twenty Six, growing up sheltered, she hadn't seen enough of the world to know and understand fear. Or the consequences of not having it.
Matilda was not her real name either. But she would have liked it if her parents had named her Matilda or Margo or even Maya, but her Father was from SriLanka, so, he named her Mridula. 'The mild-one', 'the gentle sort', in Sanskrit. Mridula? Do I look like a Mridula?, Mridula would ask her reflection in the mirror. You see, she had a reason to question it. She and almost everyone who came into contact with her could see, she could be a sweet girl on occasion, and you could reason with her with a sound argument, but MILD? That she never was. Her father died early. Mridula didn't have a chance to ask her father why she was named that, or many other things that she badly needed answers for. So, she did the next best thing. Introducing herself to people that didn't know her from before as Matilda, or Mattie. Might as well, as most people in this new country couldn't say Mridula properly anyway.
New country, The U.S.A. Yes, Matilda was relatively fresh off the boat. To be precise 1 year and 7 months. There was a much longer story to tell, a lot of flash-back and heart break to cover but that's another chapter altogether. So, let's just start from the day Mridula landed in the Big Apple. Well, there she was, armed with six hundred forty five dollars cash from her baby-sitting gig and another 78 dollars left over from a sales girl job 5 months ago in the Midwest, a brand new drivers' license from State of Illinois, proudly peeping through the plastic window a men's wallet in her purse, a practical gift from her cousin's husband, and a small suitcase of ill fitting clothes that she inherited from her cousin sister in the suburbs, including the knobby oversize beige sweater and the bubblegum pink cap with ear flaps and a pom pom on top she has on, Mridula, a.k.a Matilda landed in Williamsburg. It was the early 90's. This now ultra cool hood wasn't gentrified yet, and the white folks hadn't ventured past Graham Avenue. And Morgan Avenue was the, 'whoa!-you-got-off-the-train-where?' stop. But it didn't matter to Matilda. She was yet to understand what 'good' and 'bad' hoods meant and where those borders lie. She was like this character from that Pedro Almodovar's classic, Penelope Cruz in 'Volver'. Not pretty or busty like that, but just in her determination. In that fiercely stubborn self reliance and taking life full on. All she focused on was survival. Getting a job. Getting herself back on her feet.
It was early that year, actually to be precise, on the first day of the new year, when the snow under her feet crunching like a pile of potato chips, fingers were numb even inside the patagonia gloves, the mercury standing at -16º F, and the breath was blowing white clouds, the air smelled of stale booze from street wide parties ringing in the new year, in the hours before dawn, Matilda slipped out of the apartment. She took the Blue line from Pulaski to O'Hare, bought herself a one way ticket to New York, spreading all the money she has on the ticket counter, counting it bill by bill to pay for it. The money left in her embroidered drawstring pouch was exactly 78 dollars. And a lucky brass rupee coin in the secret chamber of its lining, from her mother, never to be spent.
Matilda specifically chose the first day of the new year, to mark an ending and hopefully a new beginning. Plus, she knew her husband would be pissed drunk that night, dead asleep until noon next day. Now, did I mention her heart break tale ridden past, well, on that, just a brief note. She had run away from a marriage of her own choosing, the man she chose for herself without dowry, turned out to be a real wanker, so, now she was pretty much on the streets, figuratively speaking, with hardly any money, or any ready means to support herself. Except that, she had a life line, a cousin, from her father's side, and a fairly new implant from UK, on Long Island, New York.
Now one could argue, why didn't Matilda just turn around and go back to SriLanka, her home land. Couple of things.
One. She couldn't afford a ticket home and she was too proud to ask for it from anyone, let alone her wanker husband. She told herself, she would rather jump off the Sears tower before she would do that. Besides, she felt she couldn't make anyone pay for it, it was her mess. It was hers to clean up.
Two. It will be too much of a scandal and sizable damage to her family name, returning home like that, what would she be? Without a husband? Soon to be Divorced. Divorced! "Your only daughter, DIVORCED???" Imagine that repeated a thousand times over...she couldn't do that to her poor widowed mother.
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"First thing you need to do is get a driver's license". Said her mettlesome cousin sister who took her in. "You need to get some computer skills if you want a real job", advised her gentle brother-in-law. Red rimmed and puff faced, crying over her spilled milk and Cheerios, Matilda took it all in. Not fully understanding, but determined still. For the next 7 months, she poured over library books and swapped work hours at the local community college to learn pc skills.
As for her driving lessons, it was an odd choice to take them from her cousin who drove on the wrong, I mean, left side of the streets until as recently as 6 months ago, and was used to doing roundabouts anytime she has to do a right turn. Nevertheless, this determined pair has decided, they can figure it out. Both right turns and parallel parking the American way. So, Matilda's cousin once a week, squeezed time between her 2 boys both under 9, and her insane medical residency, taught her driving on a big Saab station wagon, in the big hospital parking lot behind where they lived. It was fairly vacant and conveniently close. Now what was even more odd about her training was that it entirely took place in the parking lot. Not once on the actual streets. But Matilda did study her state Driver's manual with utmost concentration.
By the end of Summer, Matilda thought she perfected her 'driving skills' and for her credit, her parallel parking was pure perfection. What she didn't realize was, there was a whole lot more to driving than the moving back and forth, breaking and accelerating, making turns, shifting gears and turning the wheel all the way to the left and then all the way to right to get it perfectly in line with the white chalk marks of the parking spots.
But, most incredulously, by the time leaves were about to turn, she got herself a Driver's License and relative mastery over colorful pie charts in Excel, and neat left to right fading swipes in Powerpoint. Now you may wonder, how did she ever pass her driver's license test? Here's an interesting side story. Even though she wasn't pretty or busty, there was some kind of weird power to her tears. Not that she was manipulative or could do it on a cue. In fact she didn't cry too much or too long over things, with one exception, stupid men in her life. But as it turned out, they would appear just at the nick of time, no, not the men, the tears, on their own, like self appointed guardian angels to save her miraculously from all kinds of situations. Something about her eyes, people just didn't like them welling up like that, it gave them an ominous sense of their basement being flooded and all their childhood memories being ruined. They just gave in, melting in those tears like salt in water, granting her wishes, drivers licenses and jobs with uniforms. You'll see what I mean by that as we get deeper into the story.
First, The Drivers license.
The Gods would not have been that kind if she had tried to get her license in NY state. But as it turned out, since her 'permanent' address was still located in the midwest, where things were milder and people were kinder, it was stipulated that's where she would be tested. So, off went Matilda flying back to Chicago.
When the car was finally brought back to the DMV station, the examiner's face was grim and stone faced as if he was mugged at gunpoint. From the tightness of his jaw, Matilda knew, she blew it. There was a bit of honking from couple of other drivers on the road, but still, she didn't exactly know what she did wrong or where she failed. The thought of going back to Long Island, to her well wishing yet exacting cousin, with yet another big failure filled Matilda with despair.
By the time the DMV man finished his report, and turned to her, Matilda's face was a sea of huge tears. Tears big and round rolling down her cheeks fast and furious. She looked at him with those berry black eyes, drowning him in salty rivers. The DMV man was stunned. He couldn't get himself to handover the "fail' report to her. More than that he didn't know what to do with her or how to handle the situation. He had had candidates be disappointed before, but none like this. He knew it was wrong and probably a crime, to let her out into the world with a license to get behind a wheel. Nevertheless, cursing under his breath, the DMV man tore up her previous report, quickly scratched a new one, and literally threw it at her face and threw her out of the car. So, there was Matilda, beaming a grateful 4 inch grin on her still wet face, half bowing, gushing Thank you, Thank you, having managed to finagle a drivers license, a license to kill if you ask me, just with the sheer power of her tears.
By the time Fall came around that year, Matilda felt pretty well equipped to face the world on her own. Around mid October with a small suitcase and a shoulder bag Matilda got dropped off at the Port Jefferson station, by her brother-in-law and the 2 nephews she baby sat, waving her goodbye. The fall air was cool and crisp, just right for Matilda's maiden voyage, her brand new life in the big Apple. She managed to locate a friend of a friend in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, who agreed to rent out a room for 1 month.
"You need to get (village) Voice to find a job", informed this artsy friend of a friend. "You can easily find a place to rent, get Voice", assured the friend's friend's moody roommate in one of her good moods. Next day Matilda got her hands on this said treasure trove of opportunities, The Village Voice news paper. She sat down with her Coffee cup and a piece of paper on which the night before she wrote down the list of skills /'jobs' she could do. The list read;
The Village Voice indeed was a treasure trove. Matilda couldn't believe what all can be sold or bought. The last pages of the fat short news paper especially were a revelation. After 3 pages and 12 circled possibilities, Matilda's found an ad that God himself placed it for her. Otherwise how could she explain it? It was an ad for one-on-one tutoring, someone wanting to learn TAMIL!!! Her mother-tongue! Matilda couldn't believe her luck. Who? How? Why? How in the world? What are the odds, Matilda thought, God has put this ad for me, she was convinced. Well, that God was a Veronica. She sounded really sweet on the phone, thought Matilda. It so happened that this Veronica, a white Northern Jersey girl was hopelessly in love with an Indian boy, specifically a Tamil boy. And Veronica wanted to snare his heart by serenading Tamil Songs, especially the duets by Rajni Kanth. This was definitely God's doing, now Matilda was without a doubt.
The Following Sunday Matilda opened the door to find a young boyish man, in a pale orange Lacoste polo shirt, bulky grey wool vest, and navy slacks, red and grey Columbia Alpine jacket, grey sneakers and closely cropped beach blond hair. Small but beautiful clear grey eyes. Deep set. She couldn't figure his age, the fuzz on his upper lip was too wispy, as if it was never shaved, but his smile was of a grown up. "Hello! I am Ronnie!...umm, Veronica" said this boyish young person with the same sweet voice Matilda heard on the phone when they made the deal.
Matilda was stunned for a moment not knowing what to make of her new employer. Veronica must have been pretty used to that shocked expression she sees on people's faces on first introductions. Luckily Matilda's mother taught her good manners, to be polite, to be always be warm and welcoming to strangers and friends alike. Despite the initial awkwardness, and 2 cups of tea later, Matilda found Veronica to be a very nice young woman. Despite the fuzz, and even without makeup, she had an attractive face. Pretty smart, some kind of software specialist by profession. And generous too. $20 per hour, 2 hours, every Sunday at Noon. Even though it puzzled Matilda immensely, why such a nice woman would dress as a boy, behaved like a boy, except for the pitch of her voice; she didn't question Veronica's request to be called 'Ronnie'. That she understood. And Veronica was more of a Ronnie than Veronica anyway. But then she did wonder, how can Veronica expect to attract that Indian boy 'Josh' with these boyish looks? She thought there was a serious flaw in Veronica's plan. Matilda wanted to tell her, about the Tamil boys, what she knew about them from back home, what they would want...But she didn't want to be rude.
Over the course of next few months Veronica, I mean, Ronnie and Matilda developed a genuine friendship. Two oddballs who perfectly understood each other or liked each other enough not to ask uncomfortable questions. Matilda never commented on Veronica's geek squad getup, and Veronica never enquired about Matilda's past. The lessons were fun. Matilda was hardworking and Ronnie was a quick study with a good sense of humor.
By now Matilda has found a second gig as well, an evening sales girl shift, as seasonal holiday staff at Crate & Barrel. Winter was getting dark and cold fast. She also moved further deep into East Williamsburg, where people took her to be Spanish as long as she didn't talk, and she could get a slice of pizza and a small guava juice for $1.50.
It was the week before Christmas. That Sunday, Matilda suggested to do the lesson at a restaurant, because she wanted to teach Ronnie about ordering food in Tamil. Ronnie insisted on treating Matilda to the meal. After all it was practically Christmas. Matilda made a fuss but agreed in the end, and proudly presented Ronnie with a hand-knit wool cap she bought at Union Square. She couldn't afford the matching pair of gloves. The Sunday lasagna lunch special came with complementary glass of white wine. And then 2 more wines were ordered, followed by a lot of good cheer. Matilda wasn't used drinking much, one glass was more than enough to make her merry. It was a moment, when both Matilda and Ronnie genuinely went past fearing judgment from each other.
Ronnie took the chance first. "I don't like being a woman". Words that came out rather forcefully as if they were waiting for a long time to come out, and have been rehearsed a few times over.
"I know", says Matilda.
"I don't like being a woman either. You know, men in my country have much better life. It's no fun being a woman.., at least here, you don't have to give dowry!" Matilda consoled.
"NO. I don't WANT to be a woman", said Ronnie, looking intensely at Matilda watching for her reaction. As expected, after half a minute of sharp attention, the penny dropped. Matilda quickly sat up straight in her chair, her eyes widening a bit,
"Whatddoyou mean?" "You mean, You mean, you are like, like gay?", and before Ronnie could answer, Matilda quickly blurted, "I like only men."
Matilda felt the urgent need to state her own preference, suddenly feeling more awkward than their first meeting and clearly embarrassed by her own unease. She treated the topic of gays like she did the stock market. It was one more new thing she came to know after coming to US. Something she knew existed but in a very far off manner. Nothing to do with her life.
Ronnie broke off the tension with an unexpected laugh.
"You silly, I don't like girls." her eyes smiling wickedly, sensing Matilda's assumption.
"Then?"
Matilda inquired, relieved with a shy smile returning to her face.
Ronnie teased, "You think you are that cute, huh? You are aarright, but I don't dig chicks".
The jovial comfort returned. Over the 3rd glass of wine while Matilda listened with her wide-eyed fascination, Ronnie confessed about her plans for a sex change, and her obsession with the gay Indian boy, who has been disowned by his parents, now living with his German boyfriend, Eric. The three of them work together in a fledgling start-up company.
Suddenly a lot of things that puzzled her about Ronnie fell into place. One of the first being, Ronnie's voice. Some of the subtle changes that came over the months very gradually. Matilda noticed off late it cracked like a teenage boy's. It wasn't sweet and high pitched anymore like it was when they first met. And on the rare occasion Ronnie took of her bulky vest, Matilda could see that she has bandaged her chest, practically flattening her noticeably large breasts. Something Matilda who is not so lucky/not as well endowed couldn't figure why anyone would want to do that.
Matilda didn't know what a sex change was, it completely boggled her mind and her knowledge and understanding of sexuality was put to test. As it is it took her a while to wrap her head around the concept of gays & lesbians. Now, this was altogether another wild, alternative unknown universe. Matilda couldn't understand how a girl can become a man. It was too complicated and too freaky. She didn't want to know too much about it. But she understood Ronnie's impossible love for that Indian boy, and her desperate desire to be who she wants to be, whatever that may be.
When it was her turn to spill the beans, Matilda still held on to the secret of her disastrous marriage, but shared her anxiety over finding the next job. 3 more weeks for the end of her seasonal gig at C&B. Matilda, being the resourceful that she was, quickly reeled off all the things she can do, including her driving skills and Ronnie, who was already a man in temperament, took charge of finding a solution, "You can drive, right?" inquired Ronnie. "YES". "And I have my license", Matilda proudly flaunted it. Right there and then a serious plan was hatched.
At the end of the January, Ronnie's surgery, the first of many to come, was scheduled. Ronnie's company would need an extra hand at the office, especially for driving back and forth doing deliveries, and since Ronnie would be out of the office, and Josh doesn't drive, Eric would be overburdened doing everything. Ronnie felt confident that Matilda would win their hearts in no time, and once she was back from her surgery, she could convince Josh (the Indian Boy) about keeping Matilda longer, if possible until she finds a real job and Eric was not too much of a problem. Once Josh was in, he would be in. During this trial/experiment, Matilda could stay with Ronnie, there was a nice pull out couch in the den, plus, it would be great to have her in the house, to help Ronnie while she/he recovered. That made Matilda even more happy. To be able to help Ronnie back. It was a done deal.
Matilda was over joyed. She managed to sublet her room, with the help of (village) Voice again, bribed her old room-mate with a sumptuous desi meal to adopt her 3 foot Ficus plant. Matilda packed up rest of her belongings back into the bags she came with, except for a new addition, a second hand RCA Radio+CD player, no bigger than her Rogets' Dictionary.
True to her word, 4 Sundays after Christmas, Ronnie came to pick up Matilda in her Black Ford Explorer. Matilda full of gratitude, put all of it in her hug, and this time it was Ronnie who was embarrassed and gently untangled Matilda and put away the box of milk sweets. Spiderman bobbed back and forth hanging from the rear view mirror. Matilda hugged her over stuffed shoulder-bag on her lap. The ride was long. The roads got wider and houses grew more far apart. Ronnie played her home made tapes of Tamil Songs. Windows down, singing at the top of their voices, bubbling with excitement the duo set off for Montvale, NJ.
Chapter-2
Matilda on the Road.
To be continued.
