I have never been able to discover any certain information about his forgery work. At this point that motive is no more likely than any other.”
“But you assume that he forged?”
“I’m pretty certain. No proof.” He shook his head, then clammed up. His girls, switching allegiance, went over to sit on their father. They snuggled up to him, sensing his unhappiness, and he asked about their day, pushed their hair away from their eyes, redid the younger one’s hairclip, and hugged them.
His love for them was obvious. I, on the other hand, now felt a distance from him. At Flip’s house he’d been attentive and greeted me warmly, then dismissed me as if we’d never met. Turned me over to a stranger for questioning. When I arrived at Ani’s he was friendly, but now I felt him pulling away, and I heard restraint in his words.
He confused me. Of course, maybe he simply didn’t like to talk about work at home, or murder in front of his daughters. I changed the subject. “With Flip gone, I don’t know that I have much I can do here in regard to Balinese art.”
Suddenly a little boy raced up to me, slapped my knee, shouted something, and dashed off again. The girls squealed and leapt after him. “What did he say?” I asked.
“You are to chase them,” Ani laughed.
“You mean I’m it?” I stood, casually wiping off imaginary crumbs from my leg, pointedly ignoring the kids. I stretched, took a few steps, then yelled, “You better watch out!”
The girls squealed, the boys shouted in delight, and I had an opportunity to work off the enormous quantity of food I’d eaten.
“OH, my gosh. They’ve worn me out.”
“I think you have worn them out.” Tyo looked toward the kids, who lounged beneath the tree. “They will sleep well tonight.”
“No wonder you are tired,” Ani said. “You’ve run for half an hour, much of that time with the little one in your arms. You haven’t changed.”
I laughed.
“You were an energetic child, and now we see that you are an energetic adult.”
“I remember you wanting to keep going when the rest of us wanted to stop,” said Tyo’s brother.
“Stop what?”
“Stop anything.” They all laughed.
“Before you were distracted by the children,” Tyo began, “you were saying that you don’t know what work you can do now that Flip is dead. There are many others who know about Balinese painting. I will introduce you to one museum employee at a private museum here in town. You can meet him tomorrow.”
“There are many Balinese who know more than Flip,” Esa said. “You should not think a foreigner could know as much about Balinese painting as a Balinese.”
Before I could answer that, Ani said, “Now she must go to her hotel to her bed.” She must have seen my struggle to hold up my head, as well as to find the words to respond to Esa.
“You’re right. It’s still early, but I’m exhausted.”
“You will come back later in the week to have dinner with us,” she said with finality. “And you should feel that you can come here at any time. This is your home in Bali.”
I nodded as I stood. “Thank you. Dinner was delicious, and it was wonderful to see everyone again.” I looked down on Wayan Tyo’s girls. “And to meet the new members of the family. Thank you so much.”
“Come, I will walk you home.” Tyo said something to his daughters and, nodding to his mother, led the way out of the courtyard. I followed, stopping by the gate to unlock my bike.
He waited for me. “A bicycle?” he asked.
“Yes. I ride a lot at home.”
“I thought Americans always drove cars. Or jogged. You do not jog?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“I will walk with you,” Esa called from behind us.
I felt Wayan Tyo tense beside me. He nodded to his friend, but said nothing.
“Do you live near my hotel?” I asked Esa.
“No.”
I waited for more, but it didn’t come.
“He grew up in this neighborhood, but now lives on the other side of town,” Tyo said.
“Closer to where I’m staying?”
“A different neighborhood, but that general direction. He has his smithy over there.”
“You’re a blacksmith?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“May I come by some day to see you at work?”
He didn’t answer, but I thought I saw him nod in the darkness.
Car lights lit the road.
“I feel that I am missing something. That there was something to see in that room that I didn’t see,” Tyo said, as much to himself as to Esa or me.
I wheeled my bike around a pothole. I thought of the sack and the small bronze guardian figure that it held. I didn’t want to reveal myself in front of Esa, and I was feeling uncertain with Tyo. He might be furious, and it seemed possible he would arrest me. Though that might be a little extreme. “We could go back together and look, to see what we see together. I mean together and individually. Each time one looks at something one learns something new. At least in my line of work.”
“Yes, tomorrow. Then I can take you to meet Made Badung at the museum. I’m sure he will be happy to help you. Especially when I take you there.”
“He owes you?”
Wayan Tyo shrugged. “We were students together.”
“He is our friend,” said Esa.
I got the feeling that he didn’t like the idea of Wayan Tyo thinking of me, a foreigner, as his friend. I wondered if Made Badung felt about foreigners the same way Esa did.
11
“Jenna. Well?” P.P. Bhattacharya stood away from his computer video cam so I could see him.
He always approximated a bouncing ball, with his round face, his globular upper body, and constant state of motion, even when standing in one place. I couldn’t help but smile. “Hello, P.P. How are you?”
“Nehru said, ‘Morning of the world.’ About Bali. True?”
When I met him, it took me months to get used to his abbreviated conversation. Much of what he needed to say was spoken in his extravagant gestures. Now his arms drew a circle, like a child drawing the rising sun. How he injected color into the gesture
