Moving On – Part II

 Authors Note -

This is the Second half of the last in a four part series of short stories both independent & inter related to each other.

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“B, Czechoslovakia.”

“Wrong, Correct answer ahe D, Austria. Come on Mavshi.”

“Mag, You win. Go play with Jenny.” Beena could feel the beginning of a string quartet of whine that kids always threaten with when things aren’t going their way and hence quickly added, “Isn’t this her KBC game book?”

And as surely as Vienna is the capital of Austria, did Ankit not want to give up the book; which made him discontinue his whine, slink off and leave Beena alone. The last four hours were spent to achieve this empty room.

First it was her sister, Heena. After an irreconcilable love affair concluded in marriage, Heena was “Dead” to her parents. It had been three years since the sisters had met and that then (unlike now) was purely accidental. It wasn’t that they were fighting, it was that they weren’t even fighting.

Beena had caught her at just the right moment. Her husband had already left for work and she was moments away from doing so. Now, it was 9’O clock and she was an hour late for work. They talked about the surprise and happiness to see each other among other mundane things but it was clear that Heena wasn’t ready to leave the kids alone with her or was it leaving her alone with the kids, in any case she got up to leave. Beena comforted, “I’m 18 years old, Heena. I can take care of …”

“We have hired an Aaya for the summer. She’ll…”

“I want to spend some time with them. I’ll tell the Aaya, that it’s her day off.”

An hour after the frown over Heena’s face had accompanied her outside, Beena was talking to the Aaya. One couldn’t find a person more determined to work than that fat bitch, Beena thought. “Pch..You won’t lose your job. I’m wanted to cook for them and feed them..” said Beena for the umpteenth time through the safety door.

“But Meemsaab, maybe I can cook and you can tell them you cooked it.”

“I don’t cook like….like you. Take a day off. Its OK. I’ve talked to Heena.”

And she slammed the door in her face. Then there were the kids themselves. Jenny had the hardest time recognizing her aunt; she kept asking how they were related. In her six years on earth, Jenny had seen her a maximum of three times; two of which were when she was still shitting in her diapers. Ankit helped confirm that they were related but Jenny had too much of Heena in her.

At last there remained Ankit, with a round face, in need of a reason to get closer to Beena and still unwrapping his puberty. He began with inquiries on his lineage, then turned to showing his growing biceps, then he presented her his new toys, then he talked about how similar she looked to his mother and finally it was the KBC book. Beena felt a little flattered at first with his semi innocent admiration filled eyes but then again how long can you pet someone.

Now that she had the bedroom all to herself, she realised the power she had. She at that moment could do anything she wished to the home, to this bed. It could come back to her but her wish could be done. But such leisure’s thought had very little space right now. So back to work, she went.

She picked up the landline and replaced it back when she realised she doesn’t have the number by heart. Switching on her mobile, she searched under ‘D’ and tapped on the one that said Dikesh. Lifting up the landline once again she dialled the number.

TRRINGGG TRRINGGG TRRINGGG TRRINGGG.

“Uhh.”

On her fifth try, a squeaky little voice answered the call, “Umm, Hello.”

“Its me. What have you been…? Where are you?”

There was silence on the other end for longest half of a minute ever and then the high pitched voice went higher and higher. “Where the fuck? Where am I? You fuckin bitch. You double faced, goddamn, swine fucking whore. Where the fuck are you? We’re supposed to meet here. I’m at the temple. I’ve been here for two hours. Why is your phone switched off?”

“Calm Down. I’ve found a safe place to divide the money and getting ready. I did that all on my own.” she said proudly.

“You lying little ……. My hands are shaking right now and there are people all around staring at me.” He took a few long breaths.

“Did you get it?”

“Are we still doing that? I don’t know. You left me alone and you call after two hours from… where are you calling from?”

“I told you. I found a safe place.”

“Oh safe.. Its safe. Like that broken condom you gave me last month. You’re crazy. I’m leaving. I don’t even know why I’m still here?”

“What do you mean? You didn’t get the money.”

“No the guy is still standing here; in some stupid clown pants. Why is he wearing yellow pants?”

“He must look pretty stupid. Is he looking stupid?” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’m not talking to..”

There was a lot of noise in the background, which is why she didn’t notice it but after Dikesh had cut the phone, the sound gave off a hollow quality, like somebody was...

She got up from the bed, unlocked the door, and ran outside. She heard the TV switch on and loud soap opera style background sound of bells and chimes boomed across the flat. She reached the living room and Jenny had her head buried in the KBC book and Ankit was fidgeting with the remote. Neither try to notice Beena.

She walked across the room, unplugged the phone next to them and was walking back to the bedroom when she turned back and announced rather than said, “Play it slower.” while some dramatic dialogue were being exchanged on the TV show.

“Slow?”, Ankit said while still bowing his head down.

“Lower, I mean. You know.”

After searching the remaining rooms for phones, she once again locked herself in and walked towards the landline. A micro second before she lifted the receiver, the phone had started to ring which she ignored and started dialling the number from her memory without putting her ear to the speaker.

“Hello? Hello?” a faint sound registered its presence. After looking around, she stared at the receiver in her hand. She cleared the mess of hair near her ear and put the it on. Beena froze and didn’t know what to do. It was Heena and after what felt like the entirety of being subjected through invasive surgery without anaesthesia, she spoke.

For the next twenty minutes Beena convinced Heena of the well being of her well fed children who were napping. Beena was thinking of the imaginary menu she just recited and felt some hunger pangs distracting her from the conversation. They talked long about their parents, Heena’s husband, their children, her job, Beena’s education and some silliness that bind siblings together. They had talked for well above an hour, Beena was updating her on some recent gossip like the old couple living above them that died one after the other in matter of two days and how their neighbours discovered them one after the other. And as both of them were trying to remember the deceased man’s name, Beena’s heard those call waiting beeps. They felt more like wake up alarm as, Beena began, “Umm, I think there is someone at the door.”

“Oh god. My lunch hour finished and I had no lunch.”

Clicking off the call, Beena pressed redial. This time he answered the call immediately.

“What is this? The silent treatment.”

Beena smirked and replied, “So is it done?”

“Is it done? Ofcourse, I’m wearing my lucky green shirt. But I had to shoot him.”

“What? You shot. You took a gun to the temple. You killed him. He had a wife and a child. You idiot..”

“No no not him. The guy. The gangster guy who came to collect the money. Fucking extortionists! He was in yellow pants too. Fuckin Circus gang. I ran out of there.”

“Is he dead?”

“I don’t know. He got off me and I took off.”

“Wait where are you now?”

“I’m near my bike. And the bag is pretty heavy.”

She paused a bit. After a victory dance involving trying to bounce on the bed and few silent fist pumps later, she gave him the address and continued to talk, “So it must be fifty not fifteen…..umm… how’s your hand?”

“I think the stiches opened up. There is some blood but it’s not mine. But hey where would we be, if I didn’t have to have the stiches.”

“Fifty Lakh Rupees shorter. That’s where.” Beena thought she had heard this dialogue somewhere and felt good that it applied here perfectly.

After a motorcycle accident four days ago, Dikesh was held under observation for the night. Beena had gone to visit. A few minutes into the visit they realised that the semi private room didn’t have any other patient. She switched the lights off, locked the door and they settled into a little “jeans on jeans” action. She held his injured hand and kissed it. It tasted like medicine so she dived onto his stubble bearded face. She could hear his irregular breathing. Dikesh was clearly shook up and his excited tongue spoke volumes of the comfort she was offering. He started grazing her bottom, first on the left then the right, then down the middle and up the spine. It seemed perfect and she felt a refreshing wave of warmth growing inside. It now centred near her stomach and was moving southwards, which she could feel was being reciprocated by him.

They were seconds away from throwing caution to wind when the lights in the room next to them switched on. They got off each other but remained close. An out of breath man and a woman began a hushed conversation in the lit up room. They were desperately trying to murmur but then were getting angry as the other couldn’t hear it. After a while they gave up murmuring and talked as low as possible.

From their talk it seemed like the man was injured but when Beena went out to slyly check on them, she saw that it was the woman who had a broken leg. A few minutes of muffled talk later they started to acclimatise to the sounds, then make out words and then sentences.

It seemed that they were being extorted and they were in animated discussion on what they should do. It surprised Beena that they never said anything about the amount. It seemed to her that a smaller amount didn’t deserve this much discussion and it would probably be a very large one and her interest grew greater and greater. At ten thirty the doctor came for his visit and reassurance that Dikesh can be let go tomorrow. Ten minutes after that came the nurse, with a set of bespectacled suspicious eyes screaming scandal, to order the light off. Just like the man and woman had continued their conversation in dark, Beena and Dikesh whispered a conspiracy.

Dikesh faked pain to remain in the hospital for the next two days and Beena came for her nightly visit except that the nurse and her parents started voicing concern on the overnight stay. Dikesh spied, reported news and they hatched their plan which when she revisited made her think that the Police may look for them which is why she needed a place to change their look before going out and that brought her here.

She got off the bed and went towards the closet. The closet doors had a dark polished veneer finish, she glided her hands over its smooth surface down toward the collapsible handle. She opened up and threw some of Heena tops, jeans and dresses on the bed. Then she started with the men’s section. A couple of Tees, jeans and a cool jacket.

The closet smelled of expensive perfurme and moth balls. It smelled like a gala party held near a petrol pump. The aroma was kind of sweet in nauseating sort of way. Beena felt dizzy and quickly closed the door. She shut her eyes and leaned forward onto the closet door. She rested her left check on the door. It’s cool surface felt comforting. This clean, beautiful, smooth surface is what it’s all about, she thought. It never questions you, just does what you ask. Hard and at your service. She was now spreading herself straight on the door. She stroked it a little, kissed it and hugged it as much as she could. This is freedom, this is liberty, not those things you read in books and articles of I-am-afraid-of-the-boogie-man columnists, she thought. The things money can buy.

The collapsible handles on the closet door were swinging back & forth, as Beena rubbed herself on it. She was climbing onto the high cloud of ecstasy as her hips gyrated on the handles and little dimples of sweat cropped on her forehead. She stepped backwards and collapsed on assortment of clothes on the bed in convulsion of delight. She rolled and lay on her stomach for the longest time. She opened her eyes with a strangely urgent desire to be soothed in hot Jacuzzi.

For twenty minutes she remained unmoved there in her stupor with eyes wide open till the door bell rang out continuously and had no indication to stop till somebody answered. Beena didn’t hurry but calmly unlocked and opened the bedroom door. Slowly she walked towards the living room. When she reached there, she saw Ankit contemplating to open the door. She motioned him to move and bent to see through the eyehole.

It was a little dark in the corridor but a stationary silhouette of a man was visible. His right hand outstretched upwards resting on the door’s frame. She quickly pulled away from the eyehole to open up. She greeted Dikesh with a smile but the darkness masked his expression. She recognized his T-Shirt even in the dark. Drenched in sweat, it had changed to dark green. She now saw the hefty backpack which hung on his lean figure as he entered.

Silence grew as the reverberation of ringing bells stopped and a low static began in her ear. She turned around, grabbed both Jenny & Ankit by the arms and locked them in their room. She heard Dikesh locking the main door and waited in the corridor for a few minutes. She could hear the kids mumble something in there but all other sounds were drowning in her slowly erupting excitement but she was too mellow to scream.

They had done it, she thought. That bag had all that she needed. The world would now be fair, when she controlled the purse strings. She was ready for it. She knew she was. A new beginning filled with a bright future, no hand me downs, shiny new appliances and good looking smooth furniture. Her new life was waiting and she was ready to move on.