AHMM, December 2009

by Dell Magazine Authors

  Sheela sat up in her chair and this time gave Anita a terrified look. “You have been talking to my mother about me? But you are my sister cousin. You are my friend. Why are you doing this?"

  Interesting, thought Anita. If I found someone had been talking to my mother about me, I might be amused, Auntie Meena's daughter, Asmita, would certainly be annoyed, but frightened?

  * * * *

  At breakfast the following morning, Anita tried to make up to Sheela because it was easier to visit with someone she was on speaking terms with than with someone who sulked and gave her the cold shoulder.

  "Anything interesting in the newspaper?” Anita said, even though she knew Sheela wasn't one to pay any attention to political life.

  "That's not the news,” the maidservant said as she put another bowl of idlies on the table. Anita loved the steamed cakes, like little flying saucers, and drew the bowl toward her. “A man has been murdered."

  "What?” Both Sheela and Anita spoke at once.

  The maidservant smiled, pleased with the effect her secret was having on her employers. “Down by the tank for the Devi temple."

  Anita hated to do it, but she pushed her chair away from the table, left the idlies on her plate, and raced down to the tank.

  * * * *

  "I just want to look,” Anita said to the constable as she swerved past him.

  He reached out to grab her, but Anita was too quick for him and leapt to the side of the corpse, just as the assistant was about to wrap a woven mat around the body. Shiva ayoo, Anita thought when she saw the body. A man perhaps in his fifties sprawled on the grassy verge, his white shirt caked with drying mud. His face was contorted, his eyes staring upward in horror, as though helpless to stop what was happening to him. But it was his mouth that held Anita's attention—his front teeth were shattered, but there was no blood on his lips and teeth. As the assistant waved her back, Anita knelt for a closer look. His throat was covered with mud, and his mouth seemed stuffed with it.

  "Who is he?” she asked the constable when they pushed her away.

  "A local man. His name is Champe,” the constable replied. “Just one of the sorcerers around here."

  "Who owns this tank?” Anita said, stepping carefully along the muddy bank. The tank seemed to be an old paddy field fallen into disuse, and now used as a local bathing place.

  "You have a reason for wanting to know this?” the constable asked.

  "Just curious,” Anita said, looking around, trying to get a fix on the landscape. To the north was Remy's house; to the south was Sheela's house. And to the west? “Who lives over there. See? In that large pink house?"

  The constable peered in the direction Anita was pointing. “That's Karunkar Menon's house. He's the new overseer at the plantation. Fine home he has.” The constable straightened up as he spoke, as though Karunkar was about to pass by inspecting the troops.

  * * * *

  Anita meandered back to her cousin's house, lost in her own thoughts. It was a very odd death—the victim looked like he'd been drowned, but he was still dry below the waist, like he'd been slogging through a swamp, though there wasn't one nearby. And it looked like he'd been in a brawl, but his hands were unscathed. The constable had dismissed the dead man as an insignificant sorcerer.

  Anita turned off the lane going to Sheela's house and instead walked through the village. When she heard the painful sound of wailing, she followed it to an alley. The narrow lane was paved with cement and ran between two large homes. Anita stepped into the shade of the overhanging trees and entered the small cluster of close-set homes sharing walls, spigots, front walks. A songbird hung in a cage outside a door, cooing to passersby. The front of one home was lined with small potted plants. At the next corner the wailing grew louder.

  "No troubling, Missi,” a woman said to Anita as she paused at the corner. “This crying is a new widow. It is Champe's wife—she has just learned her husband is dead. The constable has come to tell her they have found his body by the tank.” The woman nodded to the house at the end of a short side lane. “Now she is a widow, poor and alone. It is well that she cries out."

  "Does she know how it happened?” Anita hoped that the constable might have said something to the widow. The other woman shook her head. “Not even how he died?” Again the other woman shook her head.

  Anita made her way back to the main road, turned right, and soon found herself at the lane she had taken the day before. She followed it through a well-tended neighborhood of small homes, turning right and left, and ending once again at the corner where she saw Sheela and Karunkar separating and going in different directions. It was the only time since Anita had arrived that she had seen Sheela animated, enjoying life.

  The meeting could have been a coincidence, Anita reminded herself, but she didn't believe in coincidences. No, the two had met on purpose. Anita walked on past the last house, until she came to a small temple that seemed abandoned. She walked around the small building. In the back was a tiny shed for storing gear for a festival, but this too had fallen into disrepair. Anita stepped inside and looked around. A broken plastic chair leaned against a small wooden stool in one corner, a rotting coconut husk lay nearby. Beneath a rickety table lay two more coconuts, but these were relatively fresh, chopped open the day before, for their sweet milk. Two plastic straws were stuck in the woven mat walls, awaiting use on another day.

  Anita pulled out the stool and sat down. To her, it was obvious what all this meant, but she didn't like it and part of her even felt resentful. Sheela was turning her family upside down with her behavior. But was there anything Anita could do about it? This was a dilemma, all right. After being casually promised to Karunkar since childhood, Sheela had married a man of her heart. Bharat had taken up his career in a plantation, but his fortunes had declined almost at once, with the loss of promotion, pay raises, and then a child. His troubles seemed to begin with the gift of the wooden figure, and now a sorcerer was dead.

  Karunkar and Parvati lived in a house that seemed to grow pinker the closer Anita got to it. She took the final turn in the lane and arrived at the front gate, which consisted of two large metal swinging doors with bright green curlicues on top. Anita rattled the latch, which was chained on the inside. A maidservant appeared in the doorway, then retreated, presumably to report Anita's presence to the owners.

  "Ah, how wonderful of you to come to us!” Parvati sauntered down the stairs with a key in her hand, unlocked the gate, and pulled it open. “Please, come, come. Karunkar will come shortly, after his morning puja."

  The home was recently built, with marble floors, high ceilings, and several built-in display cabinets throughout, showcasing small collections of brightly painted figures of the gods and goddesses, teacups, and photographs. Parvati led her into the dining room, called for tea, and ushered her to a chair. It was still quite early, but not too early for visiting.

  Parvati concentrated on her hostess duties and began chatting about the neighborhood, who lived where, what they did, where they came from if not from here, the next trip they might take to Chennai or perhaps Mumbai. “I do love Mumbai—so many interesting shops, don't you think?"

  Actually, Anita didn't think so—she thought Mumbai was insane, crazy with traffic, dirt, pushy millionaires and wannabes, and worse—but instead of saying that, she politely agreed, and Parvati went on to talk about her visits to Philips Antiques, which Anita knew to be somewhat pricey.

  "Ah, talking about shopping, isn't it?” Karunkar strolled into the room, dropped the newspaper onto the table, and called out an order to the maidservant. He smiled down on both Parvati and Anita with a certain patronizing air that might have been no more than well-earned self-confidence, but it caught Anita's attention.

  "Back for lunch, Parvati,” he said.

  "I'm glad to have a chance to meet you again,” Anita said, extending her hand. He took it and they shook. “We've certainly changed since we were children, and I'm always curious about how my old fri
ends turned out."

  Karunkar gave a good-natured laugh. “Good to see you here, Anita."

  When he was gone, Anita said, “Is Mumbai where you got that figure, the one studded with nails?” She wasn't surprised to see Parvati blanch.

  "I don't mean to be offensive, but have you noticed how moody Sheela has become?” Anita asked, changing the topic.

  If Anita had wanted to shut down Parvati, there could be no better way. Instead of a flash of anger or resentment at being asked to feel sympathy for the woman her husband had intended to marry, Parvati withdrew emotionally, her face turning blank, then cold. “She reacts too strongly to things."

  "Really?” Anita leaned forward, hoping for more.

  "That figure. It was only a folk art piece, but instead she blames it for everything that has gone wrong in her life. She would blame my husband, Karunkar, for it if she hadn't known him since childhood."

  "Why blame Karunkar?"

  "I bought it for a gift sometime in the future, but he gave it to Bharat on a whim.” She shrugged, then, unable to hide her feelings any longer, moved to sit sideways in her chair to look out the window.

  "So Karunkar took it there?” Anita said more to herself. “You are not from here, are you?"

  Parvati relaxed at the question and shook her head. “Pune. A real city. Not like this godforsaken place.” Oddly enough, Parvati didn't sound bitter, just hugely disappointed and resigned. “He promised me after we were married that we would be here only a few months, while he moved up the ladder, and then he would get a better position elsewhere."

  "But?"

  "But he doesn't talk about it anymore, and when I bring it up, well...” She sighed. “Is it wonderfully busy where you live, in the hotel?"

  Her curiosity was intense, almost pathetic in its neediness to know about something outside of this little village. Anita told her about Hotel Delite, some of the staff members who were especially colorful, and Auntie Meena, who was right then probably hiding in a linen closet to get away from some of the more demanding guests. “Perhaps you'll have children soon,” Anita said, feeling sorry for Parvati in her loneliness.

  "I doubt it.” The other woman blushed deeply. “He doesn't fancy me so much."

  * * * *

  Anita set off for Sheela's house before she realized she had taken the wrong path. The lanes in this area were well worn down, but they twisted and turned and crisscrossed through forests and over brooks; anyone could set out, take the wrong turning, and get lost from view—and then no one could know for sure where the person had gone. Two main paths skirted the tank, and anyone could approach it without being seen.

  Anita found Sheela curled up on her bed, her eyes open. When she saw Anita enter, the other woman rolled over and stared at the wall. Anita closed the door and sat down on the bed.

  "You have to talk to me, Sheela. Something terrible has happened."

  "What?” Her voice was about as dull as Anita had ever heard it, equal parts pouting and lack of interest.

  "The man who was killed this morning, the sorcerer."

  "Yes, terrible. I'm sorry he's dead. We'll make a donation to help his wife. Now you can go away.” She pulled the end of her sari over her head.

  "That's not what's so terrible about it.” Anita waited but Sheela continued to stare at the wall. “How long have you and Karunkar been having an affair?” Anita was gratified to hear a small gasp. Sheela rolled over and raised herself on her elbow.

  "Why are you saying this?"

  "I saw you yesterday, in the village, and Karunkar.” Anita watched Sheela's pretty mocha coloring turn gray and sickly, and her eyes widen.

  "Ayoo! Did you, ah, tell anyone?"

  "Like Bharat?"

  Sheela nodded.

  "No. But that's not the worst part."

  "What could be worse?” Sheela sat up, swinging her head from side to side. “I am glad you know. I am so alone here with this secret. It is a terrible thing I have done, but even worse is what I did before. I married Bharat on a whim, to show how modern I was, to have a marriage of the heart. But the heart is weak, the heart is unreliable. The heart has no sense. And now I have nothing, not his heart and not my own."

  "What do you mean not his heart?"

  "He thinks Karunkar is trying to ruin us. He thinks there is something wrong that I have such friends. Even my mother is suspect now because she still thinks Karunkar is a good man. Everything is awful.” With no role to play, no need to conceal the truth of her circumstances, Sheela began to cry, wiping her eyes with the end of her sari.

  "And everything is going to get worse,” Anita said. “Excuse me, I have to make a telephone call.” She pulled out her cell and left the room.

  In the middle of the midday meal, Remy came flying through the front door. “How can you eat? Have you not heard?” Anita kept on eating. “It is horrible, horrible!"

  "Calm down, Ammaji,” Bharat said, standing up and offering her a chair.

  "My maidservant told me just now. Karunkar has been arrested for the murder of that sorcerer found near the tank. He is in the jail!"

  "Really?” Bharat sat down, resuming his meal, as though Remy had announced nothing more than a change in the bus schedule. He selected the best portion of sambar for his idlies, his eyes on his food.

  "No, Amma, he couldn't have! He wouldn't!” Sheela was too stunned to do anything but repeat herself.

  "I'm afraid it's true.” Remy fell into a chair, shaking her head, mumbling about the horror of it all. “They took him from his house. Poor Parvati! She must be beside herself."

  "Perhaps it is only to ask him questions,” Sheela said, growing agitated.

  "You can ask them when the constables come here,” Anita said.

  "Here!” Both Sheela and Remy stared at her.

  "Yes, why would they come here?” Bharat said, suddenly alert. His tone was sharp, and his look was fierce, a change in his personality Anita would not have predicted when she first met him. At their wedding he seemed such a mild, gentle sort, and she worried only that he wouldn't be able to keep Sheela from going off on a dozen different tangents. But she had been wrong—he had depths she hadn't imagined.

  "Karunkar did indeed kill the sorcerer, but he will claim self-defense,” Anita said. The other women protested again. “And they will want you as a witness, Bharat."

  "Me? What can I tell them? If he has done this, the crime is solved."

  "Why he would kill a sorcerer, in the first place,” Anita said. Bharat began to rise, but Anita raised her hand. “I wouldn't bother leaving, Bharat. The police will be here shortly."

  Bharat stiffened, then trembled, but slowly lowered himself into his seat.

  Remy grabbed Anita's wrist. “Tell me!” She shushed her daughter, and jerked Anita's arm closer to her.

  "It was the teeth that got me,” Anita said. “Why would anyone bother to knock out someone's teeth after they were dead? I could see bits of his teeth on the ground and in his mouth, so it obviously happened after he was strangled. And why was he strangled with muddy hands?"

  "I do not believe this,” Remy said. “I have known Karunkar all his life. He was to marry Sheela. Would we make a mistake like that?"

  "You didn't make a mistake,” Anita said. “Karunkar accepted the marriage of Sheela and Bharat, and he married as was expected of him, to a woman who loves him passionately. But Sheela and Karunkar could not ignore their feelings for each other. When Karunkar gave Bharat the antique wooden figure that Parvati found in an old shop, he didn't think anything about it, but Bharat did. To him it was not a sign of friendship. It was a sign of hostility, a warning that a sorcerer was working against him and Sheela, and he saw all the bad things that happened as Karunkar's fault."

  "Nonsense, Karunkar wouldn't do that, he wouldn't.” Sheela pressed her hands against her chest, imploring Anita.

  "You don't know him in business,” Bharat said. “Look how he has taken my position, my rises.” He gave his wife a cold stare,
so cold even Remy flinched.

  "So you decided to get even,” Anita said to Bharat. “You hired the sorcerer to cast a spell on Karunkar that would ruin him. The sorcerer lay in wait for Karunkar at the tank where he did his morning puja, and began to do his work, but Karunkar had come to believe the figure with the iron nails perhaps was evil, and he didn't dare let the sorcerer do even more harm. He tried to stop him, and when the sorcerer wouldn't stop the curses, Karunkar stuffed his mouth with mud so the words wouldn't come out; the sorcerer choked to death.” Anita paused, thinking about Karunkar's dirt-stained fingernails when they shook hands that morning.

  "And then he had to break the teeth,” Remy said in a soft voice. “The sorcerer is only as good as his words, isn't he? And his words must be perfectly articulated. Once his teeth are broken in death, his spirit cannot torment anyone, especially Karunkar.” Remy slowly shook her head, a single tear forming and sliding down her cheek.

  "You did this?” Sheela turned to her husband, “You did this to Karunkar?” and in a second she lunged at him with her hands outstretched, her nails cutting deep into his cheeks. Her wails greeted the police.

  * * * *

  The following morning Anita crossed the road to the bus stand and dropped her suitcase next to Parvati's. The other woman offered an embarrassed smile and a shrug.

  "My mother has insisted I return home during this difficult time,” Parvati said. “I am glad to do so. I have considered the question of loyalty, and I am concluding that I am free to go. My husband has placed his heart and his loyalty elsewhere. Besides, he has loving family here and I do not.” This was a long speech, and Parvati's voice grew softer and softer as other villagers arrived to wait for the bus. “Is it so lovely, your Hotel Delite?"

  "It will be after my Auntie Meena calms down. Auntie Remy has given her the news about Sheela and Karunkar and Bharat, and I know what Meena will say."

  Parvati arched an eyebrow. “She will be so disapproving of the good you have done?"

  "She will believe I was the cause of it all, that I brought the bad luck with me.” Anita laughed. “You have to love someone who thinks I have that much power in life."