Frybabe and Gum, thank you both.
I really wasn't so much concerned about myself as afraid to pass the bug on. Ergo, no hugs for the grands last Sunday
Frankly, I also worried whether I'd be able to give a promised talk at the high school from which my son graduated and where my grandson is in the 7th grade and my granddaughter in the 4th. Tomorrow's the day,
deo volente. No rest for the wicked:)
Yes,
Gum, this special series about India was shown here not long ago on PBS at a time slot a little inconvenient for me. Before long regular programming was supplanted temporarily by fund-raising which, though essential, was an unwelcome interruption.
The Moghuls left a rich heritage. Our present chapter is titled "The Moghul Room" and we are winding our way towards it, slowly but surely.
Frybabe, the episode involving Corporal Pinker is first told to Sergeant Potter by "Sophie" Dixon, then by Potter to Guy Perron, who will share it with Nigel Rowan. The episode is
essential for us to know about IMHO and could not possibly be omitted. In the interest of time my rendition is shorter.
Weeks earlier Merrick had come to Richardson's office at an early evening hour when Pinky was standing by the open file cabinet. He asked for and was given an appointment for the next day. As soon as he arrived Pinky showed him in. Shortly he was called in himself and asked for a specific patient file. Pinky made the mistake of taking both the official tan file and the private green file back to Richardson, who handed the green one back.
Pinky remembered the file, he had held it in his hand but put it back unread: the patient was a woman.
Merrick's visit may have taken Richardson by surprise and, like any psychiatrist, he would have been reluctant to share with Merrick more than what the ordinary file contained. But during that visit Merrick realized that there was more than one file, specifically a green one, and by shrewd deductive powers guessed at the truth. In short order the trap snapped.
After Merrick left trailed by the Red Shadow there was silence.
No MP arrived.
Pinky was sick.
Then he began to run.
Lights in surrounding huts were being turned on.
Pinky ran back to the office.
The green file he had held when Merrick entered was still on the desk.
He felt for his key.
There was no key.
Anywhere.
Pinky remembered the wristwatch.
No watch.
The cabinet was locked.
Merrick had the key and the watch.
He had the rogue file.
H hid it in his own desk.
Closed the windows and locked the door.
In the morning Pinky reported sick. The MO found nothing wrong with him. But he looked awful and the MO sent him to sick bay for observation. An Indian orderly brought him tea. He drank it gratefully. It did not stay down. Nothing did. Curled up in the embryonic position he fell asleep.
When we woke in late afternoon, Richardson was sitting on his bed.
He asked, gently,
"My green file on the ordnance officer, Captain Moberly, can you tell me where I can find it?
I have an interview with him this evening."
"Yes, sir", Pinky said, feeling calm. "It's in the bottom left-hand drawer of my desk."
"Thank you, Pinker," Richardson said, and stayed where he was.
Eventually he said, "All things considered, Pinker, I think you'd better remain here for a day or two
even though there's nothing physically wrong with you. I don't mean you are malingering. I mean that your illness is psychosomatic. I take it you yourself are in no doubt of hat?"
Pinker nodded. There was nothing Richardson could do for him, but Pinky felt he understood. Richardson's face was the last friendly face he was likely to see until he came out of prison. But he did not think he would ever come out. He hoped he would die of terror and humiliation. How could he ever face his parents again if he survived to be sent home? Two years. In an Indian prison. For a crime he had not committed and had never intended to commit. He had only wanted a bit of love.
Next morning he felt purged. The nursing sister said she was pleased with him. He had expected that by now everyone would have heard about him and he had steeled himself to bear their contempt. He guessed whatever Richardson was doing was being done as discreetly as possible. Allowed up, he sat on the verandah of the sick bay and opened his mind slowly to his own "case".
Tomorrow
A Good Man
