Fifteen Lanes - S.J. Laidlaw Page 0,68
whether she was going to get a kiss or a smack. She’d taken to avoiding Ma altogether. She refused to even come inside to change her clothes after school until I told her it was safe. Often I had to bring her clothes down to her and she changed in the washing room, not greeting Ma at all.
I left Shami in the lounge and walked down the hall, careful to listen for Pran. I could hear some of the other aunties in the downstairs room that was just below ours. I poked my head in their door to greet them as I passed. A large rat scuttled toward me. It noticed me at the last minute, turned tail and disappeared down the corridor back to the kitchen. I paused at the bottom of the ladder. There wasn’t the slightest noise from above. I should have asked if Prita-Auntie was still passed out as well. I quietly climbed the ladder and breathed a sigh of relief when I popped my head through the hatch. Prita-Auntie’s bed was empty.
I scrambled up the rest of the way and walked over to Ma, who didn’t stir, and watched her for a moment. Even in sleep the lines around her once-beautiful face drew her mouth into a perpetual frown. Several locks of lank, greasy hair had escaped from her braid and fell across her folded arm. Her body under the threadbare sari was little more than bones. It was hard to remember the way she used to be, so full of energy and determination. I used to pride myself on being like her.
Silently, I vowed that in three years I’d take her away from this life as well. I hoped it wouldn’t be too late for her to regain some measure of who she used to be. At least she could live her final years in peace and comfort. We wouldn’t need much, just a small room we could call our own, a kerosene cooker and, if we were lucky, running water and electricity. I’d seen rooms like that in Kamathipura, but my mother was not going to end her days among the men who had used her. I would take us as far from these fifteen lanes as it was possible to go. As Gajra had so recently pointed out, India had no shortage of slums. We’d make our home where no one knew us.
I reached under the bed for our stash of food and pulled out the tea, powdered milk and spices. I took her mug and our single pot from her bedside stand and returned to the ladder.
Ten minutes later I was back at her bedside holding a steaming brew of masala chai. Cinnamon scented the air, briefly overwhelming the usual, less pleasant odors.
“Ma.” I gently shook her shoulder. It felt as if the bones rattled under my touch. She, on the other hand, didn’t move at all.
“Ma,” I said more loudly.
Her eyes peeped open. “Leave me alone,” she groaned. “What time is it?”
“It’s late, Ma, almost five. The men will be coming soon. Deepa-Auntie has already turned one away.”
This was a lie but it had the desired effect. Ma hastily dragged herself into a sitting position, resting her back against the wall. “You haven’t let her steal any of my regulars, have you?”
“Of course not, Ma, I would never do that.” There was no point trying to defend Deepa-Auntie, who had never once accepted one of Ma’s regulars, though many had approached her. Ma’s mind traveled in deep grooves like a train, impossible to derail.
I knelt down and pulled out the box that stored our clothes and took out a salwar kameez for Aamaal. “Shami’s doing well today, Ma. He’s running around downstairs.”
“I went to the temple last week. It’s already working. Have you been this week, Noor?”
“Yes, Ma. Shall I go again?”
“Yes, go tonight. We must give thanks. Have you done your homework?”
“I’ll do it now. I just need to feed the children first.” I didn’t tell her I was meeting up with Grace and Parvati, both of who were eager to hear about my first day back at school. Ma still didn’t know about Grace, or why the school had decided not to expel me. She thought it was her own appeal that had convinced the principal to let me stay.
“Don’t neglect your studies. You mustn’t give them any excuse to try to get rid of you again.”
I picked up the cup of tea she’d drained. “Would you like