Tunnel Vision (22 page)

Ammi moved restlessly through the house till Abba came home and I never got a chance to place the secret stash back in its hiding hole. Dinner was particularly good that night, but I just picked at my food. My appetite had deserted me at the thought of Abba finding out I had been rifling through his things. It wouldn
'
t have been so bad if I
'
d found a wind-up watch or a new ruler, something that could legitimately be mine one day, but those pictures were trouble.

Complaining of a stomach ache I went to my room and lay down on the bed. After some time, the laughter from the dining table creating an ominous contrast with my visions of eternal frostiness, my stomach really started aching. I began to feel sorry for myself. Sure I had been messing around with things I wasn
'
t supposed to, but where were my parents as their only child writhed in agony on her narrow, uncomfortable bed? What if I died from my stomach ache? I bet they
'
d feel really stupid then. The laughter stopped, then resumed again further off.

I got up and decided to go get myself a glass of water. Normally I would yell for Abba to get one for me, but I didn
'
t want to disturb their cozy little party. When I opened the door, the dinner dishes were still strewn around the dining table. This was unusual, my mother kept a neat house. Ammi Abba were nowhere to be seen, the door to their bedroom was half-open. I peeked around the side.

Ammi sat before the three-quarter mirror on the brocade-covered stool that went with it. Her jet hair open, falling almost to her waist. Abba stood behind her, looking at her eyes twinkling at him in the mirror as he brushed her hair. They weren
'
t the brisk, business-like strokes that my hair was subjected to when being tamed by a parent, but gentle, languid ones. It
'
ll take him forever if he
'
s going to be that slow about it, I thought frowning, brushing her hair like that while I die of stomach ache.

I realized my mother was looking at me in the mirror.

‘
Aslam,
'
she raised her eyes to his again,
‘
close the door, will you. There
'
s a draft in the room.
'

I fled back to my room before he got to the door, feeling oddly guilty, like I had stumbled upon not one but two dangerous secrets in one day. I felt so nervous I forgot all about putting the postcards and photograph back in their place.

Abba came to my room later that night. I pretended to be asleep, keeping my eyes tightly shut despite the light spilling in from the open door. Abba used it to make his way around my room, straightening the clothes hung haphazardly from the back of the chair, arranging the books in a neat pile. He paused to admire my eraser collection, displayed proudly on a small table next to my desk. There were erasers of different shapes and sizes, squares, triangles, flowers, cars, trains, even a cricket bat. The fancy ones were never very effective, if God forbid you had to use one, but I liked to collect them anyway. My collection had flourished under my father
'
s patronage, and Chotay Mamu had contributed an eraser or two as well. Ammi only bought me a new eraser when I had done something she felt deserved a reward. The flower was from her.
‘
Girly gifts for little girls,
'
she had said, frowning at the airplane,
‘
from someone who doesn
'
t want you to grow up to be an air hostess.
'

Abba finally came and sat next to me on the bed.

‘
I know you
'
re awake Ashoo.
'

I squeezed my eyelids even more tightly shut.

‘
Your toes are twitching, my little luddo.
'

I opened my eyes and turned over to look at him. He smiled at me, the light from the door throwing his face into orbit, with only the lower half reflecting the light of its artificial sun.

‘
Shouldn
'
t I be asleep? I have school tomorrow, you know.
'

‘
I know. You can sleep in a few minutes. I just didn
'
t really get a chance to talk to you today, that
'
s all.
'

‘
You were busy.
'

‘
You had a tummy-ache and came in to lie down.
'

‘
Because I
'
m a big girl and I can take care of myself.
'

‘
Of course you are, but we feel important if you let us help you do that.
'

‘
How come you never brush my hair?
'
The words flew unbidden from my lips. I had been determined to keep my cool, but he didn
'
t seem angry with me and I was flustered.

‘
I can brush it tomorrow if you like. I notice you have a new eraser or two in your collection.
'

Excited, I got out of bed and went and got the new additions to my rubber family, showing them to Abba as I told him of their origins.

‘
The flower was from Ammi for getting all my math questions right. I sort of wanted one with an airplane on it but she said I should get the girly flower one, and she didn
'
t want me to grow up to be an air hostess. What
'
s an air hostess?
'

‘
A woman who takes care of people on aeroplanes.
'

‘
Like a girl pilot?
'

‘
Not exactly. She doesn
'
t fly the plane but she makes sure everyone
'
s safe and warm and well-fed.
'

‘
Like Ammi except up in the air?
'

‘
You could say that except don
'
t say that to her.
'

‘
Do they also wear saris all the time? What do they look like? Do they have uniforms? Why can
'
t they fly the plane?
'

‘
Yes, they have uniforms. And they look just like everyone else. And they can
'
t fly the plane because their fingers are too delicate to get a good grip on the steering. You know Aunty Francis, who lives down the street? She
'
s an air hostess. That
'
s why we hardly ever meet her, she
'
s always flying around.
'

‘
But she
'
s so nice! And pretty!
'

‘
Yes she is.
'

‘
Why doesn
'
t Ammi want me to be like her then?
'

‘
I think your mother just doesn
'
t want you to do anything that will take you far away from her.
'

‘
Oh,
'
I mulled it over and moved on,
‘
this one
'
s from Mamu,
'
I held out the airplane,
‘
he bought it for me when Ammi wasn
'
t looking.
'

‘
Smart man. He hasn
'
t visited us for a few days, has he?
'

‘
No, he
'
s been busy too.
'

‘
That
'
s how I knew he wasn
'
t the one to go through my drawer.
'

The trapdoor clicked shut behind me. There should be a rule against tricking other people, I thought.

‘
I didn
'
t …
'
my voice trailed off. Lying to a parent was pointless, I
'
d learned that early. At least to Ammi, anyway. She had an uncanny ability to ferret out what you really didn
'
t want her to know. Persistence, that
'
s how she did it.

‘
Right …
'
Abba continued when it became obvious I was going to say nothing else,
‘
I don
'
t know if you
'
ve done it before or been doing it regularly.
'

‘
No!
'
I shook my head emphatically, that was the first time I
'
d burrowed through his desk.

‘
We treat you like a big girl because you behave like one. If you start doing babyish things like deliberately disobeying us, for example opening drawers and cabinets you
'
re not supposed to open, we
'
ll have to start treating you like a little baby again. Would you like that? Should we treat you like a baby till you grow up? Would you like to not be able to drink anything but milk?
'

I giggled despite the lump in my throat. He was pulling my leg obviously. Everyone knew being a baby was something that only happened once. He wasn
'
t really angry with me, he would be talking about real punishment if he were.

‘
Stop giggling!
'
Abba
'
s tone hardened,
‘
you did something wrong and now you
'
re giggling about it. What are you, stupid?
'

Shocked, I mumbled,
‘
Sorry.
'

‘
You should be sorry,
'
he almost snarled,
‘
little troublemaker! Should I call your mother and tell her how you
'
re behaving?
'

‘
No Abba,
'
I was speaking but I couldn
'
t hear my own voice.

‘
Would you like to wear a diaper all the time? Should we send you to school with a diaper over your uniform so all the other children can see it? They
'
d like that. They
'
d all make fun of you.
'

Abba
'
s half-moon smile seemed menacing, suddenly, I felt the first tear well up and fall. I willed it not to, I didn
'
t want to cry like a baby, much less be one.

‘
I
'
m sorry. It was an accident. I won
'
t do it again.
'

‘
I don
'
t know if I believe you. I think I should tell your mother,
'
he hesitated,
‘
she
'
ll insist we treat you like a baby for at least a week …
'

‘
Please, please believe me, don
'
t tell Ammi,
'
I was sobbing furiously now, and hating myself for it. He let me wriggle and squirm for a little longer, watching me with a detachment I found unnerving. If only that stomach ache had killed me after all.

‘
All right, just this once, I won
'
t tell your mother. If you
'
ve really learned your lesson we
'
ll both keep quiet about everything that happened.
'

‘
Everything
'
was exaggerated.

‘
But one word and I
'
ll put that diaper on you myself. Now get back to sleep.
'

I clambered under the covers and pulled them up to my chin. He stood silhouetted, backlit, like the monster from the old cupboard in the hall whose shadow sometimes flitted past my door at darkest night.

‘
You know I saw an eraser with a train on it the other day,
'
his tone was oddly cheerful,
‘
maybe I
'
ll bring it home for you tomorrow. Would you like that?
'

Petrified, I managed to nod, his inconsistency leaving me speechless.

‘
That
'
s too bad, because I don
'
t give presents to little sneaks. Goodnight, my little luddo. Sleep well.
'

The door closed behind him.

HIMMAT HAI TO PASS KAR,
WARNA BARDASHT KAR

BACK OF RICKSHAW

~

I
n the blackness I realized I was whimpering softly. I hadn
'
t thought about it for years, how he had humiliated me, and never once mentioned the pictures. By scaring me witless, he
'
d made sure I never mentioned them either, certainly not to Ammi.

‘
Are you ready to talk about your father now?
'
the other voice whispered the question.

I don
'
t know if I nodded my assent or vocalized it. I don
'
t know if I needed to do either. For a second I was a child and weary with sleep, groaning my opposition to the idea of waking up as Ammi stepped across the room, and opened the curtains. Light flooded in, blinding me. I felt rather than saw my mother kiss me.

*

I was by the window of my hospital room again, as Ammi had been in my old room just a second ago. I seemed to have stabilized because the nurse in the room was looking bored, idly winding one permed strand around her red talon hand as she watched the TV on mute. The air conditioner hummed. Adil sat by my side again. He had changed clothes since I last saw him. How much time had passed?