The Story Hour (12 page)

“Can you hear me?” man saying. “Are you okay?” I starts to shake head yes, but then his face turn and he calls, “Maggie? Can you come out? There's been an accident.”

Now my breath moving again in my body and allow me to speak. “I okay,” I says. I tries to get up but man put hand on my shoulder.

“Just a minute. Maybe we should make sure nothing's broken before you attempt to get up?”

Now I's laughing. I put both hand behind me and lift up, so I sitting on the grass near driveway. “I okay,” I repeats. “When I young, my sister and I use to bet who can jump from taller tree. I always winning.” The Indian man smiling and this courage me to talk more. “My ma always say, ‘Beti, you fast as cheetah and strong as Mithai.'”

“Mithai?” He look puzzle.

I laugh. “Not mithai. Mithai. My elephant. In my home village. He my friend.”

“You jumped off trees and you had an elephant as a friend?” The man raise his eyebrow. “Some childhood, you had.”

Suddenly, I feel ascare. Does this man think I show-off? Or liar? Or loose woman, talking to mens on street? I straight my blouse and stand up. My backside paining but I don't say anything.

“So, are you really fine?” he ask, and his caring remind me of Maggie. And next minute he say, “By the way, I'm Sudhir. Maggie's husband.”

He give me hand for shake, but the husband angry if I touch stranger man's hand. So I folds my hands, like proper Indian wife. “Namaste,” I says.

He looks surprise but then nodding. “Namaste. And you must be Lakshmi.”

“How you are knowing my name?”

He acting like I ask stupid question. “What? Should I not know the name of the woman who brings me wonderful food each week?”

I look at my empty hand. First time only, I bring no food this week. Husband get angry last evening. Say I giving away too much food to Maggie. Say I must to stop. Like fool woman, I listen.

I fold my hands again. “I so sorry, sir. I forgetting your food at home this week. But next week I bringing you tops food.”

“No, no, no. I don't expect you to. Not every week.” Sudhir shake his head left to right.

“Lakshmi?” Maggie come down driveway. Her face going from smile to frown. “You're really late. I was getting worried.” She turn to her husband. “What're you still doing here?”

Sudhir point me with his chin. “We had an accident,” he say. “I knocked poor Lakshmi down to the ground. She seems to be all right, though.”

Maggie give Sudhir exact look Ma use to give Dada when he do stupid mistake. “What, were you texting while walking? Really, Sudhir. You can't even be trusted to make your way to the car without knocking people down.”

Sudhir make funny face and wink me. He looking like old film star Shashi Kapoor, I thinking. So handsome.

Maggie give him quick kiss and say, “Bye. I'll see you tonight. Call if you're gonna be late.” She give him small push. “Now, go. Lakshmi's already late for her session.”

“Next week I promise I brings you best food,” I say.

“And I promise to knock you down again,” he answer. Then he smile, wave, and walks to where his car park on street.

Maggie take my hand as we go toward back porch. “What happened? Why are you so late?”

I about to tells her about the river and the grass and how I feels without body when I sits there, but I don't. I not know why I keep secret. But river is mine. I not wanting to share. Not even to Maggie. “I miss second bus,” I says, and she satisfy.

“Okay, so what's on your mind this week?” Maggie ask, just like every week.

As if I have ghee in my mouth, the answer slip out. “Money,” I says.

“Okay,” Maggie say. She give couraging smile. “Go on.”

But I myself not knowing what I mean. Since I having no money of my own, why for it on my mind?

Then I looks down and see my empty hands. Hands that not carry a tiffin box today for Sudhir sahib. How ashame I feel when he thanks me for cooking. I's poorer than beggar in my home village, I think. Even the low-caste Dalit farmers have some moneys of own. But I poor wife of rich businessman. The husband spend forty-fifty dollar every week on whiskey bottle. He treating his cardplayer friends to free food. He sending moneys to his sister in India every month. The husband only poor when he next to me. I works like a dog in his restaurant, in grocery store, but no salary. Even Menon sahib, who do so much favor to my family, who pay for my schooling, even he pay me little bit when I do accounts for his shop. But the husband is maha kanjoos. He see me as lime from which he squeeze last drop.

“Lakshmi?” Maggie foot move, as she doing when she in-patient. “Talk to me.”

I swallow knot that come into my throat. One hot tear fall on my hand. I staring at it, because it looking like jewel. This is the only jewelry you ever have, Lakshmi, I think, and then more jewels landing on my hand.

“Sweetie? There's some Kleenex on the table if you need it. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?”

“My husband not giving me any pocket money,” I say. “How you Am'ricans say? Allowance. I works and works in his business but I having no money of my own. Anythings I wants, I must to check with him first.”

“Why don't you just take it?”

“Take how? From where?”

“I don't know. Where does he keep his money? His wallet?”

Sometime Maggie so stupid, I get irritate with her. “How I can touch his wallet?” I ask. I know my voice loud but I can't help. “He say he know if even ten cents missing.”

Maggie sit back in her chair. “As his wife, you have a legal right to half of what he owns, Lakshmi. You know that, right?”

I so angry, I cannot sit properly. Plus, my backside is paining. “What I wanting half of his stupid restaurant for? Or half of grocery store? What I do with them? Wear them on my head?” I pulls on skin between my thumb and finger. “I just wants to have some extra money. Like twenty or thirty dollars a week. Bas. Why he can't give me that?”

“What would you do with that money, Lakshmi?”

But I not wanting to answer spending question. I wanting to answer earning question. I look at Maggie's big backyard. So many-many flowers and trees. At the end of yard is view of whole town below. I saw last week when we took walk around the yard. “Maggie,” I says. “How you get to be rich in Am'rica? How you buying big house like this?”

Maggie look embarrass. “This is about you, Lakshmi,” she say, “So tell me, how do you think you can earn some money each month?”

I feel like if schoolteacher asking me question and I not knowing answer. “I don't knows,” I say.

“Well, let's make a list of what you're good at. You know, what skills you have.”

I hear the husband voice come through my mouth. “I's no good at anything. I big stupid.”

Maggie look angry. “Hey. We decided two weeks ago you wouldn't talk about yourself like this. Remember?” She look at me quiet for minute and then she say, “You're a very smart woman, Lakshmi. Now tell me, what are you good at?”

I wanting to tell Maggie but Ma always telling not to be show-off. But inside myself I think, I good at maths. Menon sahib say he make more money after I do accounting books for him. And I's only fourteen years old then. And I takes good care of peoples. Shilpa, Dada, Ma. Last year Ma living, I doing everything for her because her fingers so twist. Shilpa at school all day, Dada working on our kheti. Ma and I's alone at home. I combing her hair, giving bath, feeding her, brush teeth, moving her in bed. Best part, Ma never sad. I telling her joke per joke, giving her news of village, singing Kishore Kumar songs, telling dialogue from
Amar, Akbar, Anthony
movie, her favorite.

Maggie make noise in her throat, like water boil. She waiting for me to talk.

“I good at cleaning,” I say. “Sweeping, washing, making bed. Also, I likes to cook.” I looks out the window. “And I loving to do planting. On balcony of our apartment, I grow tomatoes, cilantro, everything. All in pots.”

“Well, those are great skills. You could get work cleaning people's homes. You could do landscaping for folks. Maybe do catering for parties? You have so much to offer, Lakshmi.”

I laughs but it sound like I chokes. “The husband not allow me to go to other people's house to clean their dirt. Who he then going to get to help at store and restaurant? And we already do party catering. But he do all the cooking for that.”

Maggie look at me. Her lips get tight, like thin piece of string. After some time, I feels hot. Why she look at me and not saying anything? Maggie my only friend in Am'rica but still I not knowing her well. What she think?

She open her mouth. Her eyes look liquid, like ink. She lean forward in chair. “Lakshmi,” she say. “Every time I suggest something, you tell me why you can't do it. It's always ‘My husband don't allow this and my husband won't allow that.' You never even try. You never ask him. You just assume things. You—”

“Please? What you mean by ‘assume'? I not understand word.”

“Assume. You know, believe. Take it as truth.”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Yes, well, here's what I want to say: When I look at you, do you know what I see? I see a young woman who is smart, bright, full of life. A woman who is not happy with her life, who wants to make some changes. Who wants to be independent. But she's scared. She isn't willing to take any risks. But here's the thing, Lakshmi. In order to grow, we have to take a chance. Even if it's scary. Especially if it's scary. Otherwise, nothing changes.”

I having so many feeling, I don't know what to say. First I shy because Maggie say I smart, bright, and fool of life. I feeling prideful also. But then I's angry because Maggie not understand my life. Her husband who look like Shashi Kapoor, allow her to joke him, kiss him in driveway. My husband look at me same way he look if small, hard piece of bone stick in his teeth when he eat goat curry. Like something bad happen to him. My husband not allow me to drive, to call my sister, to make friends, to watch TV if he sleeping. One time when we first marry, I begs him to take me to lakeside to see lake. You know what he did? He fill water in bathtub and say, You want to see water? Look. Lake is just like big bathtub.

But among many things I feel by Maggie's words, I also feel something I not know name of. Something shiver, like what I use to feel when I sleep in bed and think of Bobby. Not dirty thought but something light. Like something good may happen. Like what if Maggie correct and I can change in my life?

“Lakshmi. Look at me. What're you thinking?”

I not sure how to tell Maggie twenty thought going zoom-zoom like race car in my head. So I say wrong thing, I say what I not belief. “I thinking that it is good if human being not get what he is praying for. Only God know what we need, not human being.”

Maggie shake her head. “Come on, Lakshmi. You don't really believe that, do you? How does anything change if we don't work toward our goals?”

I quiet. I know Maggie correct, but I also know what I say is little true. Human being ask and ask for things. When Ma was so sick the last week, and in so much pain, still I was begging the God to not take my ma away. Day and night I pray, even when she screaming, even when she taking so much medicine, she doing soo-soo in bed. And when she dead, I so tired with God. But still I praying, please let me see my ma again, one time only. God listen until He fed up with me. Then He teach me the lesson.

“I wants to tell you story,” I says to Maggie. “About dream I have.”

Maggie look like she going to say no. Then she give out long breath and sit back in chair. “Okay,” she say. “If you like.”

A
FTER MY MA
die, I have a dream one night. I dream I meets with God and He asking me to make one wish. So I thinks and then I says, Make it so that for one day out of whole year, everybody get to meet their love ones who dead. People from heaven come to earth and spend whole day with living family. They can have party, picnic, festival, watch the TV together, go for the drive, I don't cares. Whatever living ones want them to do, they do.

So then God says to me, Who decide which day of year you can visit dead love ones? Everybody have different-different day or same day?

Now I gets ascare that God giving me my wish, so I say, You decide, please. You God.

So God think for minute and then He smile and say, August 15. That the day every person on earth get to spend with their dead love one.

As soon as He say date, I know why He pick it—August 15, India Independence Day. Ma was always telling me, God make whole world and all the peoples, but he love India tops. Before I use to argue, Ma, if God love India best of all, why He make it so poor? And Ma explain that just like a mother love her sickly child the best, God love India because it weak and need most protection. Before, I not sure if Ma making up story or not. Now I know Ma telling hundred percent truth.

So then I thinking, This is January, only. I trying to count how many days left until August 15 and I hurrying, hurrying, in my dream, count fast. All the time I ascare that August 15 so far away, but still I making plans for how to make Ma welcome when she come to visit. I think what foods to cook for her, what sweets to buy, whether to buy Coca-Cola or Fanta for her. Then I remindering that Ma won't come alonely; she bring her dead brother, maybe, because he having no alive family, and her dead parents, surely. Maybe some other friends who I don't know come with her? Our hut too small for such big party. Maybe Menon sahib letting us have party in his house? But then I remindering that Menon sahib having to have the party for his dead relations, also, and then I really ascare. Maybe whole world not big enough for all the dead love ones to come back. Where we going to put them all?

Now I understanding that I not really wanting to see all the dead love ones. I only wants to see my ma. So I turn to God with new request. But He is gone. I screaming and screaming for Him to come back so I can say him that I change my mind. I is crying now, looking for Him everywhere. And then God really angry with me 'cause he shake and shaking me, and I open my eyes, but instead of God, it my dada looking at me. “Lakshmi, Lakshmi, wake up,” he say. “Why you crying in your sleep, my child?”