It wouldn’t have been so bad if in fact they hadn’t built farms right next to each other and thus were in each other’s faces and business most of the time. At one point early in my tenure I suggested to Aftab, whom I regarded as the slightly more rational Chengelpet, that he might consider checking out a new plot of land that had just been cleared out on the other side of the village, because living away from Nissim might solve the majority of his problems with him. “Oh, he’d like that,” Aftab said, in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice. After that I abandoned any hope of rational discourse on the matter and accepted that my karma required me to suffer through the occasional visit from the Outraged Chengelpet Brothers.
“All right,” I said, quieting the brothers down from their fratriphobic rantings. “Here’s what I think. I don’t think it really matters how our lady friend the goat got knocked up, so let’s not focus on that. But you both agree that it was Nissim’s buck that did the deed.”
Both the Chengelpets nodded; the goat stayed modestly quiet. “Fine. Then the two of you are in business together,” I said. “Aftab, you can keep the kid after it’s born and stud it out if you like. But the first six times you do, Nissim gets the full stud fee, and after that half of your stud fee goes to your brother.”
“He’ll just stud it out for free the first six times,” Nissim said.
“Then let’s make the stud fee after those first six times the average of those first six,” I said. “So if he tries to screw you he’ll end up screwing himself, too. And this is a small village, Nissim. People here won’t stud with Aftab if they think the only reason he’s hiring out his goat is to mess with your livelihood. There’s a fine line between value and being a bad neighbor.”
“And what if I don’t want to be in business with him?” Aftab said.
“Then you can sell the kid to Nissim,” I said. Nissim opened his mouth to protest. “Yes, sell,” I said, before he could complain. “Take the kid to Murali and get an appraisal. That’ll be the price. Murali doesn’t like either of you very much so you’ll get a fair estimate. Okay?”
The Chengelpets thought it over, which is to say they racked their brains to see if there was any way either one of them was more unhappy with this state of affairs than the other. Eventually they both seemed to come to the conclusion that they were equally displeased, which in this situation was the optimal result. They both nodded their assent.
“Good,” I said. “Now get out of here before there’s a mess on my rug.”
“My goat wouldn’t do that,” Aftab said.
“It’s not the goat I’m worried about,” I said, shooing them out. They left; Savitri appeared in the door.
“You’re in my seat,” she said, nodding to my chair.
“Screw you,” I said, propping up my feet on the desk. “If you’re not going to handle the annoying cases, you’re not ready for the big chair.”
“In that case I will return to my humble role as your assistant and let you know that while you were entertaining the Chengelpets, the constable called,” Savitri said.
“What about?” I asked.
“Didn’t say,” Savitri said. “Hung up. You know the constable. Very abrupt.”
“Tough but fair, that’s the motto,” I said. “If it was really important there’d be a message, so I’ll worry about that later. In the meantime I’ll catch up with my paperwork.”
“You don’t have paperwork,” Savitri said. “You give it all to me.”
“Is it done?” I asked.
“As far as you know, yes,” Savitri said.
“Then I think I’ll relax and bask in my superior management skills,” I said.
“I’m glad you didn’t use the wastebasket to vomit earlier,” Savitri said. “Because now there’s a place for mine to go.” She retreated back to her desk before I could think up a good retort.
We’d been like this since after the first month we’d worked together. It took her that first month to get used to the fact that even though I was former military I wasn’t actually a colonialist tool, or at the very least if I was, I was one with common sense and a reasonable sense of humor. Having established I wasn’t there to spread my hegemony over her village, she relaxed enough to start mocking me. It’s been our relationship for seven years, and it’s a good one.
With all the paperwork done and all the problems of the village solved, I did what anyone in my position would do: I took a nap. Welcome to the rough and tumble world of colonial village ombudsmanning. It’s possible it’s done differently elsewhere, but if it is, I don’t want to know.
I woke up in time to see Savitiri closing up the office for the day. I waved good-bye to her and after a few more minutes of immobility hauled my own ass out of the chair and through the door, on the way home. Along the way I happened to see the constable coming toward me on the other side of the road. I crossed the road, walked up to the constable and kissed my local law enforcement official full on the lips.
“You know I don’t like it when you do that,” Jane said, after I was done.
“You don’t like it when I kiss you?” I asked.
“Not when I’m on the job,” Jane said. “It erodes my authority.”
I smiled at the thought of some malfeasant thinking Jane, a former Special Forces soldier, was soft because she kissed her husband. The ass-kicking that would ensue would be terrible in its magnitude. However, I didn’t say that. “Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try not to erode your authority anymore.”
“Thank you,” Jane said. “I was coming to see you, anyway, since you didn’t return my call.”