Fifteen Lanes - S.J. Laidlaw Page 0,97
do I. I can’t count beyond one hundred. It was many hundreds though, I can tell you that.”
“It’s over, Lali-didi.”
“I can still feel their touch on my skin. I can still smell them, even after I bathe, like their stink seeps out of my own pores.”
“You can go to school. You can be happy.” Tears were sliding down my face. Lali-didi’s eyes were dry.
“I am happy, Noor. I’ve waited for this day a long time. You marched in just as I knew you would and closed the doors on this house of torture. I planned for this from the moment you escaped last night. You came more quickly than I expected. Thank you for that.” Blood dripped out of her nose. She wiped it away but it only seemed to make it bleed faster. “You should go now.”
“Lali-didi, what’s going on? What have you done?”
She held up a can of rat poison that had slipped down on the far side of her.
“No,” I gasped. “Not now, Lali-didi. You’re going to get your freedom.”
“Yes I am, Noor. Yes I am.”
I crawled over and pulled at her arm. “We have to get you out of here. We’ll go to the hospital. There’s still time.”
She wouldn’t budge.
“Good-bye, Noor.” She crumpled before my eyes. For the first time I noticed blood leaking from her ear.
“Lali-didi,” I sobbed. “Please don’t do this.” I pulled at her arms, even as I felt her limbs go limp.
I don’t know when my siblings joined me in the box or how long we sat there. We didn’t hear the heavy footsteps enter the outer room or the voices urging us to come out. I don’t remember leaving Lali-didi, or climbing in a van. I don’t remember the police station or the day and night we spent in detention while our futures were being decided.
Everyone I loved was in prison, everyone but Lali-didi. Only she was free.
Noor
What I will remember …
I’m woken by the mattress creaking above me. I slide out of bed, careful not to disturb Aamaal, and stand up. I have to climb up the first rung of the ladder to get my head high enough to see Shami on the top bunk. His eyes are wide open.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“My stomach hurts.”
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, let’s give it a try.”
I pull down his cover and step off the ladder to give my seven-year-old brother space to climb down. I put my hands out to catch him in case he stumbles. He’s wobbly but manages to get down without mishap. His body is still adjusting to a new higher-dose medication. We’ve been through it all before, the diarrhea, nausea and fatigue.
I follow him into the bathroom and sit cross-legged on the floor while he sits on the toilet. There’s no shyness between us. I’ve ministered to his ills since he was a baby. I’ll continue for as long as he’ll let me.
“Do you think Ma is watching us?” asks Shami.
“Well, hopefully not right now.” I smile.
“Maybe she’s already been born again. She could be a baby bunny.”
I chuckle. Shami can think of no better incarnation. He dotes on Aamaal’s rabbits.
“Noor-di?”
“Yes?”
“I haven’t done much good in my life. If I died right now, I wouldn’t come back as a bunny, would I?”
“You’re not going anywhere for a long time,” I say firmly.
“I’d probably come back as a pigeon. No one likes pigeons. There’s too many and they all look the same. I bet a lot of naughty boys come back as pigeons. Noor, if I was a pigeon would you still recognize me?”
“Of course.”
There’s a quiet knock on the door. I stand up and open it.
“Everything all right in here?” Karuna-Auntie pops her head round the door.
“His stomach is giving him trouble again.”
She walks in, leaving the door open, and strokes Shami’s hair. I only hope Varun-Uncle and Nanni are not behind her. It’s the hazard of living with a houseful of doctors; poor Shami has no privacy. If I’d had any idea what we were getting into I might have thought twice about moving in with them. I wouldn’t have refused—they’re our salvation—but I might have thought twice.
Aamaal and I spent six weeks in protective custody after Ma’s arrest. For all that time, we weren’t allowed to see Shami, or anyone else. Shami was put in a home for HIV-infected kids. Luckily, since it was private and not state-run, it had liberal visiting privileges. Grace and VJ visited every day.
We all missed