Fifteen Lanes (26 page)

“I don’t know. She didn’t bring him to the café.”

“And the monkeys, and the rhino—”

“The rhino’s gone, Aamaal. I explained that.”

“Did she say why he wasn’t there?”

“Did you remember the lettuce for the hippo, Noor-didi?”

“Yes, Aamaal, but I’ve told you we really shouldn’t feed him. If we got caught—”

“Do you think he’s ever been to the zoo before? With his money, I bet he can see hippos and tigers in the jungle.”

“There they are!” I said loudly. Vijender had come. I shot a look at Parvati. Her once-open face was unreadable.

Aamaal wrenched her hand from mine and ran toward Grace and VJ. I was on the point of calling her back when Shami wriggled from my arms and followed her. VJ had already dropped to his knees by the time they reached him. It was typical of his arrogance that he assumed they were running to him.

VJ swept both my siblings into a big hug. My stomach clenched to see Aamaal in his arms. I had to remind myself that not every male was a threat. I hadn’t shared my suspicions about VJ’s preferences with Parvati. Perhaps I should have. It might have put her at ease.

As we came up to them I was shocked to hear Shami burbling about a cricket match he’d watched on TV. I felt a stab of jealousy that he’d chosen to tell VJ about his new interest rather than me, but I couldn’t help smiling when VJ dissected every play Shami described, and Shami glowed with excitement. Perhaps the film star could do some things for Shami that I could not. I just hoped VJ understood that if he ever did anything to hurt my brother I’d make him sorry he ever met me.

“So, what are we going to look at first?” asked Grace.

“The spotted dog,” shouted Aamaal in Hindi. Though I’d
coached her to speak English when we were with the foreigners, I was happy in this instance that she’d forgotten.

“Let’s start with the hippo,” I said, also in Hindi. “He’s much closer and we have food for him.” I didn’t add that I’d deliberately chosen our meeting place to be as far from the hyena as possible.

“Shami want to see spotty dog,” agreed Shami. Fortunately he spoke Kannada. Shami still got his languages mixed up. He was fluent in three and had begun to learn English as well.

“What’s that, little man?” asked VJ. I knew he’d cause trouble.

“Shami want to see spotty dog,” Shami repeated, this time mostly in Hindi.

“The spotty dog it is, then,” said VJ, as if he were in charge.

“Why do they have a dog in a zoo?” asked Grace.

“It is not being dog,” said Parvati.

“It’s a hyena,” I said. “But really we should leave it till later. It’s on the other side of the zoo.”

“I want spotty dog,” insisted Aamaal. She tugged on VJ’s arm.

VJ scooped up Shami and placed him on his shoulders. I was on the point of objecting in the same moment that Shami squealed in delight. VJ put a hand on one of Shami’s dangling legs and took Aamaal’s hand with the other.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked cheerfully.

I crossed my arms. What an irritating boy he was.

“Which way do you want to go, Noor?” asked Grace.

VJ, Aamaal and Shami pinned me with identical imploring looks.

“All right,” I said grouchily, “we will see the hyena first.”

“Yes!” VJ crowed, swinging Aamaal’s arm up in a victory punch.

VJ set off with my siblings at a slow trot, deliberately bouncing Shami up and down. Shami giggled and shrieked with far
more enthusiasm than I’d ever seen in him before. It made me sad and happy at the same time.

Grace, Parvati and I followed. Parvati looked glum. I wasn’t sure if she was wishing she’d brought Eka. We’d agreed, since we were spending the bus fare to come this far, that she would look for a place to sleep in this part of town tonight, far from Suresh.

“Shami seems to have taken to VJ,” said Grace, calling my attention to where VJ had stopped to let us catch up and was passing the time swinging each of my siblings around like propellers on a helicopter.

“He is too rough with them.”

“They seem to like it.”

“Yes, they liking,” agreed Parvati.

“I could give you a go,” VJ teased.

Parvati flinched.

I started walking again, giving my brother’s flying feet a wide berth.

Fifteen minutes later we reached the hyena. I swallowed my disappointment to find him still there. Many animals at our zoo died from poor care and malnutrition; I imagined it was a welcome release. Every time we came I hoped the suffering of this miserable creature had ended. He paced his tiny iron cage with a glassy-eyed despair that I’d seen too often in my own community. His tongue lolled out of his open mouth, skin stretched taut over jutting bones. I looked at my sister, who had come to stand beside me. Her anguished face was only part of what I hated about visiting the hyena.

Her hand found its way into my own. “Tell him the story, Noor.”

The story was the other part.

Shami, who had been in VJ’s arms, asked to be put down and
ran to take my other hand. It was our tradition to tell the story together. I was embarrassed to tell it in front of the foreigners but I couldn’t disappoint Shami and Aamaal.

“You come from a proud line of hyenas,” I began in Hindi, looking directly at the hyena. “Your mother and your aunties all loved you. Your sisters hunted while you stayed at home and played and slept and learned what it was to be a little boy hyena, beloved, in the paws of your community.”

“Because girl hyenas are stronger and fiercer,” said Aamaal, who knew the story well.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“But hyena families stick together forever,” said Aamaal. “That’s why he’s so sad. He misses his family.”

“When will his mummy come, Noor?” asked Shami.

“Not yet, Shami,” scolded Aamaal authoritatively. “We haven’t told him the bad part yet.”

“What are they saying?” asked Grace quietly. VJ played translator.

“One day some bad men came and stole you from your mother,” I continued.

“Because mummy and sisters were out hunting,” added Aamaal.

“But your mummy and sisters never stopped looking for you.”

“Your sisters would never forget about you,” said Aamaal pointedly to Shami.

“And one day they’ll find you,” I said to the hyena.

“Because family sticks together, right, Noor-di?” asked Shami.

“And a family isn’t a family without a mummy,” added Aamaal.

“That’s right, one day we’ll come and this hyena will be gone, but we won’t feel sad because we’ll know his mummy and sisters have come for him.”

“Don’t worry, darling, your mummy and sisters are on their way,” said Aamaal to the hyena. “I wish I could give him a hug,” she said to me.

“Well, who’s for ice cream?” asked VJ. “My treat!”

“You don’t have to treat us,” I said.

“I am wanting ice cream,” said Parvati, summoning a smile. For once I felt a rush of warmth for the film star.

“I’m treating everyone, even Gracie here. She could use a little meat on her bones.”

Grace flushed and quickly turned away. Even VJ noticed.

“Everything all right, Grace?” VJ gave her a curious look. “You’re not upset that I called you bony, are you?”

“You need to learn when to keep quiet,” I scolded. “There is a small restaurant down this path.” I took Grace’s arm.

Grace and I dropped back, letting VJ go ahead with my siblings. “You are feeling embarrassed,” I said.

“No, it was no big deal. Where did the story come from?”

“The first time we came here Aamaal was so sad because of the hyena that I made up a story about his family rescuing him. Later I asked my teacher about hyenas. Their families really do stay together and look after each other, just like people. I think that is why he has become crazy. He is lonely.”

“You’re a good sister.”

“I am certain you are as well.”

“Maybe I used to be.”

We enjoyed another hour at the zoo before I had to take Shami and Aamaal home. I let VJ give us a ride. It was much quicker, and I worried Shami’s flushed face might indicate more than excitement. The car dropped us at the end of our street.

“Can you meet next week?” asked Grace. “On Friday night, maybe?”

“I think so.”

“I was thinking maybe we could have a meal somewhere.”

I hesitated, but I could see it was important to her, so we agreed on a falafel place. It was on the edge of my neighborhood and not too expensive. If I set aside a little money all week, I might be able to afford something.

Deepa-Auntie met us the minute we walked through the door of our house. “Thank goodness you’re back, Noor. Your ma isn’t well. I think she should see a doctor.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I said.

“Shami want to see Ma,” said Shami.

“Not right now, Shami-baby,” said Deepa-Auntie. “Let Noor go first.”

I hurried to the ladder, scrambled up and peeked over the top. Ma was flat on her back with her eyes closed. The heat, even with the fan going, was stifling. I climbed the rest of the way and went over to the bed, perching uneasily at its foot. She didn’t stir. I reached for her wrist. She had a pulse but her flesh was burning up. I noticed she had a sore on her lip again, heavy with pus.

I crawled under the bed and pulled out the fixings for tea and a tiny folded paper of pills that she didn’t know about. I would dissolve some into her drink. To please her I also took the small jar of home remedy that she swore by. Shami called it her magic powder. If only it was magic, I thought traitorously. I wondered how many more illnesses like this her body could endure before death took her. Each time, she returned from them a little weaker.

I left her sleeping and made my way down the ladder, heading to the kitchen. Adit was standing in the hallway.

“She’s sick again,” he said.

“It’s nothing. A cup of tea will revive her.”

“Nishikar-Sir was asking about you.”

The owner of the brothel. My heart stopped but I held myself tightly, determined not to show my fear.

“Why would he be asking about me?”

“Did you really think he wouldn’t notice you forever? Your ma earns so little now. You must have seen this coming.”

“You seem to take pleasure in this, Adit.”

“It’s just the way things are. Your mother was stupid to send you to school. You’re just a girl.”

“You’re a boy, yet your mother didn’t bother to send you to school.”

“It wouldn’t matter. An education is more useful for a boy, but both our fates were written before we were born. If I’m lucky, Pran will let me stay on here as his assistant.”

“You call that luck, to live off the women who are trapped here?”

“What do you expect me to do, Noor? I also must provide for my family.”

“I don’t know who you are anymore, Adit. The boy I knew was a fighter. He would not have given in to a fate he didn’t choose. There is a whole world of possibilities beyond our fifteen lanes. Don’t you want more for yourself?”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I could see my words had hit home as his cheeks colored. I pushed past him and went down the hall to make my mother’s tea.

The big boss …

Ma must have known that Nishikar-Sir had asked about me, though she gave no sign of concern. She was a respected woman in our home and in the community. As powerful as he was, I was not such a valuable item that Nishikar-Sir would risk the anger of the entire Devadasi community, not to mention the non-Devadasi sex workers, by selling me without Ma’s permission.

Still, I couldn’t ignore his interest entirely. I’d seen it often enough. If Nishikar-Sir had decided he wanted me, the pressure on Ma would begin. But Ma had worked hard to give me a good education, and her pride wouldn’t allow her to accept that her daughter needed to take over the work because she could no longer bring in enough customers to provide for her children. So over the next few days, I kept my worries to myself, making light of it whenever Deepa-Auntie tried to broach the subject. I don’t think she would have let it go so easily if
we hadn’t both been distracted by the return of Lali-didi.

She was brought back in the night. There were as many accounts of how it happened as there were people to tell the tale. What was certain was Adit’s part in it. He really had known where she was, and for the promise of a job he gave her up.

Lali-didi went back to the lockup. We were all forbidden to speak to her, but there wasn’t a woman or girl in the house who obeyed. No matter how many times Pran or Binti-Ma’am chased us away, we kept a round-the-clock vigil outside the box that was her prison. We spoke to her constantly, told her what was happening in the outside world and made plans for her release. Some of us promised her wild things that we could never bestow.

Lali-didi herself spoke little. She didn’t cry either, even when Pran went inside the box with her. Her silence echoed off the walls of our home in a way that her tears never had. It spooked Pran. Over the week of her confinement he went to her with decreasing frequency and none of his usual malicious glee. He tortured her with the dogged determination of a man completing a distasteful task. We all suspected Nishikar-Sir had ordered it.