Page 58
Story: The Henna Artist
“I mean to keep my promise, Lakshmi. The one I made to Maa. I’m doing good here. If only...” He started to pace. “We need medicine for the children’s fevers. And several of the youngernautchwomen will deliver soon.”
What he was telling me was true—I’d seen it with my own eyes. But my purse was not bottomless. I, too, had debts to pay.
The door opened. Malik came into the room. His ear was red from being pressed against the door.
“Auntie-Boss,” he said, “I know a way to help him.”
The streetlight was shining inside my Rajnagar house. I saw Radha’s body curled on the cot, our metal trunks, a jumble of carriers, filled with odds and ends. I fumbled in the dark, not caring how much noise I made, rummaging through our belongings, wishing I’d had the money to put in electricity.
“Jiji?”
“Matches. Where did you put them?”
I upended a sack, spilling its contents. Herbs wrapped in newspaper packets, spoons, toothpicks.The Tales of Krishnathat Radha had brought with her.
Radha raised her body on one elbow. “What time is it?”
“Matches! Did I forget to put them on Malik’s list last week?”
She pushed herself off the cot and reached inside the vinyl bag by the door. “Here.” She yawned.
I grabbed the matchbox from her hand. My fingers were shaking as I lit a match. I emptied the contents of another carrier on the ground, examining the labels on the bottles and packets.
“Now what are you looking for?” She rubbed her eyes.
I broke off my search to glare at her.
She blinked, awake now.
My bun had come loose. My tangled hair fell across my face. My sari was damp, and smelled of vomit; I’d retched a half dozen times on the way home.
My finger began to sting. I shook the match to put out the flame. “I’ve seen Hari.”
In the dark, the white orbs of Radha’s eyes shone brighter. “Why?”
“Radha, I didn’t know—”
I was afraid I might cry again. I’d been crouching on the floor. Now, I stood up and reached for her hands. She flinched, retreating in the dark.
“Sit down.” I indicated the cot. “Please.”
She settled on the edge of thecharpoy, gingerly. Her hands fidgeted in her lap. I knelt on the floor in front of her.
“Radha, whoever did this to you, you’re not at fault! If I’d known—that Maa had another child after me, that I had a sister, that you were alone—I wouldn’t have left. I would have...”
I wasn’t sure what I would have done.
Her brows knitted.
“To think that youofferedyourself to Hari—it’s appalling. It’s my fault. Please forgive me.”
I sat down next to her.
She shifted, away from me, afraid.
“I was supposed to protect you. I didn’t. I let it happen. He—”
“Jiji, you’re scaring me.” She looked as if she was about to cry. “What are you talking about?”
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