Nirvana Effect

22



Edward hiked to the port town of Lisbaad, the only “civilized” district on the island. Lisbaad had a small church run by two Jesuits, and a few Catholic nuns instructed a school, so once he arrived Edward took no chances with the main streets and cloaked his head.

The roads were narrow, made for carts, but a few cars kicked up dust here and there.

Aside from the occasional anachronism, the town was a full century behind Western civilization. For Edward, who had lived with the Onge for months, it was a mighty advance.

He arrived late at night and purchased board at a run-down inn on the southern outskirts of the town. Of course, everything was run-down, not just the inn.

A few merchant seamen manned the bar, each sipping on something unhealthily brown. Edward asked the small Oriental innkeeper for a room. The man led Edward up the stairs and unlocked a creaky door.

The innkeeper showed him around. The wire frame under the mattress had stray springs falling out, and the room stunk of mold, but to Edward it was quite an upgrade from his straw pallet. Not that it matters. Edward’s mind was fixated on what the future held, not on the inconveniences of the present.

In any event, Edward had never much cared for material things. Knowledge, on the other hand…

“You come from the south?” the old man asked in Tamil, which Edward fortunately understood.

“I do. I have a question for you,” said Edward.

“What is that?” The man stroked the wispy white hairs that languished on his chin.

“If I were sick, where would I go?”

“To the doctor,” answered the little old man.

“Well, yes.” Edward smiled. “But where in this town would I go?”

“To the east end. You are white, so you would see the white woman. She has the clinic. You wouldn’t want to see the brown man.”

“No?”

“No.” The man did not elaborate any further on that point. “She charges whites,” he continued, “but you have rupees, so she would help you.”

“Thank you.”

“What is your illness?” The old man’s eyebrows furrowed. He actually cared. Edward stifled a laugh.

“I appreciate your concern,” Edward answered. He ushered the innkeeper out.

Once alone, Edward took a deep breath, checked the room and locked the door. He lay down on the mattress. It sunk in the middle and felt divinely comfortable. A room all to myself. He slept deeply for the first time in weeks.