Open Up

 

Is he a bigot? Will he go back to his violent ways when Trouble comes home?

I wrote this short story 'Open Up' (yeah, yeah, a story set in lockdown days) last year.

Number of words: 2280

 

 

 

 

OPEN UP

 

Six months into lockdown and life has not been better. No husband, no abuse. He still comes for money. That is done from a safe distance. Social distancing be praised.

I have not got out of this compound. It has been eight months since I went to my village. My kids call once in a while. To ask for money. I tell them to get it from their father. Let them try that.

In this house, life has been the same. Amma has to spend more time with Appa. His bladder is giving him more trouble and he is weaker. Yettan does the shopping. I have to clean one more room, upstairs, because of the newcomer.

I have been with them for fifteen years or so. I am from their village. A distant relative of some sort. Yettan was not here when I first arrived. He was in some high post somewhere. Then, it was just me, Amma and Appa. And, the constant trouble from my husband. The old couple could do nothing to stop him.

Then, Yettan came back. Retired early after all that trouble in the papers. I still remember that rainy afternoon. The brute of a husband was drunk and he was hitting me with his belt. We were fighting in the small backyard. He wanted money. He did not like it when I asked him about his woman. We did not notice Yettan at first. I saw him only when the beating stopped and when my husband looked up, his anger turning into something meek and scared. Yettan was standing on the first floor back balcony staring at us. Truth be told, his eyes scared me too. I have seen such eyes when Rajan, the village butcher, kills a buffalo. Dead eyes to bring death to the living. After that day, my husband behaved well within the compound. Even when we met outside, he was better-behaved. Once, when he was drunk, he said something like, “You and your Yettan…” but he did not complete the sentence even though I urged him to do so. When the lockdown started, Yettan told us that I could meet my husband outside the compound only if I wanted to leave for good. I did not want that, nor did my husband.

Do I not make it sound as if Yettan is always hovering near me? After he returned home, disgraced and alone, he occupied two rooms on the first floor. Amma, Appa and I continued as usual downstairs. The old ones were happy to have his company. Even when he was away working, he visited every two months, took them to the village and to the hospital for check-ups. Their two daughters have been here only for Onam or some occasion like that. The Uncle next door and Appa talk on the phone at times. They do not really need the phone. Both are hard of hearing and the whole neighbourhood gets to hear what they say. It is fun when they talk politics. Amma here and Aunty next door try to hush them up, scared that the local goons will hear their views and pay a visit. “Let them come, those parasites,” the old men cackle. They are more serious when they talk about their kids. “Don’t worry, they will come when you are dead, if they haven’t grabbed all that’s theirs, they will come.” Appa kept quiet when Uncle said that.

I think Yettan is just a guest. The house will go to one of the two daughters. Once in a while, when Yettan is in a bad mood, he pokes at Amma and Appa about their two beloved kids. He never says three kids. He might be a guest but he did not want me to clean his bedroom or study room. I saw him only when he came down for meals. Or when he cooked chicken. I can cook better but it is fun when he tries these new recipes. That is the only time I have seen him smile. He was not like that before. I remember when he was young, when he used to visit our village. “The young man with a sweet smile always,” everyone said. He used to be religious then. Now, he does not even pray before the lit lamp downstairs. I think he is still very religious within.

She arrived about a month after lockdown started. Two days before she came, Yettan had a yelling session with his parents. “Don’t you dare say anything to her. And tell your two kids to stay away from her.” Amma and Appa looked scared and uncomfortable. They kept their heads down. Amma cried in the storeroom.

Even though I had expected it, I remember the news when Yettan retired, it was quite a shock to see her in that outfit. It took a while for us to notice her big expressive eyes, so like Yettan’s. I knew that look in her eyes. She was scared. Really scared. Of course, I would know that look. Poor thing, I thought. Still, she did not have to wear that here? I didn’t say anything. I wanted to. But Amma silenced me with a look.

How old is she now? She was two years old when all that happened. Thirteen years have gone by, I think. She must be in high school. At home, she wears normal stuff. Yettan gave his bedroom to her. Set up a study table there for her. He asked me if I could clean her bedroom too. Of course, I said. I helped them set up a prayer corner. She placed her mother’s photo there. Amma told me that the kid’s mother and step-father were among the first casualties of the Covid. The kid prayed quite frequently. First few days, we saw her only during meal time.

Appa smiled at her. It was a fake smile. He is like that. He just cannot lie. When Yettan was not around, he poked at the kid. “Don’t you have to wear that when you eat? How can you raise the veil when you eat?” Amma pinched him and made him stop. They glared at each other. They acted as if nothing had happened when Yettan turned up. The kid did not tell Yettan about all that. He would have given Appa hell then.

Yettan slept in his study room. The first week, he stayed in that room a lot. She stayed in her bedroom. There was a lot of silence in the house.

It was Appa who changed first. He is like that too. Quick to show his emotions, quick to change his affection. He told the kid stories of his childhood. How they struggled during the war, how he lost a year of school because there was no money. I knew those stories by heart. He narrates it over and over when I clean the house. Amma took her time. But then, she is like that. Even with Yettan, who she loves dearly, I wonder if she has hugged him even once. He has not either, I am sure. Like mother like son. But he has got Appa’s temper. Not quick though. But when he loses control, he is worse than Appa. Is that not why he lost all?

Ten days after her arrival, Yettan made new rules for her. A schedule. She did not like it. Those scared eyes turned angry. Like father like daughter, I thought. Yettan did not give her a choice. “I am not a baby for you to order me around,” she shouted at him. Downstairs, I heard that and smiled. Appa too. It was exactly like how Yettan shouted at his parents. Amma glared at us. Appa continued to smile. He nearly laughed.

Every day, they get up at half past five. That is when I wake up. They exercise on the back balcony. I do not know what they do there but I can hear them. “I can’t do more,” she would complain. Silence from him. A little later, “Raise your leg higher. Kick properly.” I took mental notes when he told her where to attack a guy. “If anyone touches you or irritates you in any way, you tell me.” Silence from her.

They have breakfast after bath. Then, for one hour, she has to be with Amma. “Wash or wipe dishes, help around.” Amma and I wanted to tell him that she is not needed but we keep quiet. Then, she studies. That was even before school started. After lunch, again, she has to help. Then, she is free till teatime. After every meal, she has to help us like Yettan even though both were just making it tougher for me. She helps Yettan and me sweep and clean the courtyard and back area. She can pray when she wants. The schedule includes that. From six to dinner time, he sits with her and both of them go through textbooks. I sit on the stairs listening to them. He is so different when he is teaching. Soft, involved. The kid responds accordingly. She sounds excited, curious, happy. I wish someone would talk to me like that.

There was some problem when schools started online classes. That too came in the paper. Saroja, the helper next door, told me that something had gone viral socially. Not Covid. She gives me such news. She is very good with her clever phone.

Yettan got her admission in his old school. They wanted her to wear uniform, and not her outfit, during online classes. Yettan argued she should be allowed to wear her veil.

Amma and Appa were very tense then. “I knew he would do something to her,” Appa mumbled. Amma silenced him quickly when she saw I was around.

It came in the papers. The government and some politicians got involved. Saroja whispered from the other side of the wall that the fight was really vicious online. She said that the kid and Yettan were being roasted alive. Even those who used to support him were attacking him.

The kid was really scared. When the fight turned ugly, she asked Yettan, “Should I change my ways?” He did not reply. She repeated her question. He replied then, “Continue as you are till you are an adult. Then, you better think.”

The fire died down unexpectedly. Saroja was really excited. She told me Yettan turned up online. Saroja told me he killed all with one tweet. “What’s that?” I asked. Saroja ignored my question and reported the tweet, “Ask your bosses if you want skeletons to come out of the closet. If my daughter, or anyone close to me, even catches a cold…” After that, nothing. Not even a poke from any side.

The school did not like the publicity, I think. Some politician called him a betrayer and that he had had more guts when he stood with their party against such stuff. Yettan was not with any party at any time, I am sure. He had bashed up the guy really good, I know. Who would not bash up a guy who takes your wife? That too like that! Yettan did not touch his ex-wife but she made it sound as if he had hit her too. Someone senior in the government helped Yettan avoid jail. She got married to that guy, converted to their ways, brought up the kid their way. Yettan lost a wife, a kid and his job. I remember the talk in our village. We were so angry with that lot in our village even though they were not at all involved. Even they were angry but they must have understood what Yettan had to do.

After online classes started, it was back to the schedule. Followed it religiously. Poor kid. He was very harsh with her at times. She had this habit of leaving her used clothes carelessly. “Pick it up. Can’t you leave it in the laundry basket? And, wash your own underwear.” He scolded her in front of me another time. “Don’t call her by name. Do you call your teachers by name.” That time, the kid replied. “Mamma used to do all that.” And, he said, “Yes, I know.” She did not give up, “You want to erase everything of Mamma.” He stared at her for a while before replying, “Only her irritating ways.” The kid had the good sense not to retort.

Last week, there was a scare. The kid told Yettan that the teachers and the school Principal want to talk to him. “What have you done?” Even Amma and Appa were very anxious. He continued, “Ask my parents. Not once did my teachers want to talk to them.” What could the poor kid do?

He took the video call in the dining room. I was in the kitchen. Amma, Appa and the kid were in the living room.

“What’s the problem now? What has she done?” Yettan started without even a polite greeting. I heard laughter from the other side. Amma later told me what they said. The kid has topped her class. At first, her teachers thought she was cheating in the online exams. They tested her individually. They realized she was not cheating. In fact, she is a class or two ahead of others, they said. They asked her if she got coaching from elsewhere. She mentioned her father.

“They wanted Yettan to help the other kids too,” Amma told me the rest too. “I just sit with her,” Yettan told the teachers. “I’m not suitable for the other kids.” They understood.

Amma added, “He has got his smile back.”