“Why are you doing this?” she said.
He squeezed the lemon, threw away the husks, added fresh slices, tossed in the ice, poured the vodka freely, carried the drinks over.
“What kind of host would I be if I let you bleed?”
He put the drinks down, removed his shoes and socks, rolled up his trouser legs, and sat next to her with both his feet in the pool.
“My blood’s in there.”
“I know.”
She looked at the towel, red beginning to seep.
“It’s still bleeding.”
“I like what you’re wearing,” he said.
“Don’t change the subject.”
She considered the kaftan all the same.
“My mother got it from Jaipur,” she said. “They used to export them.” She pinched the material roughly between her left thumb and forefinger, let it fall. “This would sell for three hundred dollars in New York. So I’m told.” She tilted her head toward the sky. “It might rain.” The clouds had obscured the moon. “I hope it rains.” She closed her eyes and felt wretched again. She drank her whole drink down. “I don’t feel anything.” She rolled the tumbler slowly toward the pool. It plopped in and sank.
He gave no reaction, just removed his cigarettes from his trousers and lit one.
“Is this what life’s meant to be?” she said.
“You’ve had a rough day. You’ll feel different tomorrow when you’ve slept.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I’m trying to help,” he said.
“We’re fucking beyond help.”
He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.
She said, “Get me another drink.”
As soon as he got up she untied her foot, tossed the towel to the side, lifted the kaftan over her head and slipped into the water naked. She disappeared underneath. The sounds of the world softened and distorted in the warmth of the monsoon night. She held her breath as long as she could.
By the bar, he stood and watched.
Eventually she let herself rise.
She made no sound as she breached the surface. Just floated, facedown, limbs spread, still holding her breath, letting out small bubbles. When she could hold it no longer, she rose and breathed deeply.
He was standing back at the side of the pool with her fresh drink.
She regained her breath. “I was imagining when I came up you wouldn’t be here.”
“You’d have trouble getting home.”
“No, I’d be fine.”
She began to swim lengths, front crawl.
“You’re a good swimmer,” he said.
“My dad taught me,” she replied when she reached the end. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders. She swam into the middle of the pool and hung there, treading water. “I watched two children die today,” she said. “Crushed to death in their miserable home. You could fit fifty of those huts into this pool, I swear. Their bodies were covered in this fine dust. There wasn’t any blood. But they must have been broken up inside. I thought I was immune. I never heard anything like that woman’s scream. I’d say it wasn’t human, but that’s not true. It was too human. I don’t remember anything about myself at the time. But I saw myself crying on TV. I feel ashamed. I didn’t deserve to cry. And after all that, I’m here with you like this. I have no courage, no heart.”
“There’s nothing you could have done.”
“There’s nothing I could have done! And it all just keeps happening.” She let out a sob of frustration. Her blood was drifting around the pool. “What are we doing, Sunny? There’s nothing we could have done, there’s everything we could have done. We’re all guilty. We’re all the same. Even if you care, you can’t get away. Especially if you care. How can you sleep at night? You have to be a saint. You have to wear a hair shirt and beat yourself with birch, give up all your belongings, go barefoot, sleep on the street, just to atone, and that won’t be enough, it won’t change anything. Or you just have to go on.”
He peeled off his shirt and threw it down, removed his pants, walked around the pool to the deep end. He stood a moment as if still deciding, then dived in, pierced the water and swam underneath, all the way to the far end.
He came up gasping for air.
After a spell, he said, “It’s better to have a plan.”
“Oh,” she laughed sarcastically, “a plan? You made your grand entrance to say that?!”
He swam toward her.