Have a Heart

by Nashina Makhani

  Loathe as I was to admit it, I was too.

  After so many months of seeing her suffer through the symptoms, watching as they got worse in the beginning when she wasn’t taking care of herself before they improved almost magically when she finally realised that she needed to take a breather, I knew all too well how quickly everything could change. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I tried so damn hard not to think too much about the possibilities that could open up if the meds and treatment plans worked for her like they had for other people and managed the systems effectively. I didn’t want to let myself think and dream and believe only to be disappointed, scratch that, completely fucking shattered, when life took a different route. Because I’d learnt the hard way that life never went the way you wanted it to, or even the way that seemed most likely.

  But, as much as I tried, I couldn’t help falling down the rabbit hole.

  Since she’d told everyone about the disease, Alia seemed to be doing even better than she had been before. A lot of the stress she’d been dealing with had come from hiding it so, now that the secret was out, there was that much less weighing her down. Not having to think about uni and all the shit that came with it probably helped more than a little too. Because, despite how much Alia loved to have everything outlined, the pressure she put on herself to live up to her own expectations was insane.

  Without the unnecessary amounts of stress she usually put herself through, the symptoms had definitely got less severe. Most days, it was almost possible to forget that there was even anything wrong. The symptoms seemed to have all but disappeared; sometimes I’d catch her having to catch her breath or wincing with a hand pressed to her chest but, a lot of the time, she seemed to be okay.

  But there was this little voice in the back of my head, one that never shut up, reminding me that she wasn’t. All the time, it kept on telling me that the symptoms were just being managed by a combination of medicines, a good diet and a healthy lifestyle but that didn’t mean they were cured. Because they couldn’t be cured.

  I hated that little voice with a passion. Of course, I knew it had a point, that it used the same logic I repeated over and over when I started to hope too much, but I didn’t need to be reminded of it so damn often. Especially not when I had far more important thing to be doing – like ticking off the things on Alia’s bucket list. Starting with teaching her to drive a motorbike, just like I’d told her.

  ***

  ‘Okay, you comfortable?’ I asked Alia, hands hovering around her, ready to catch her if she fell the way I did the first time I say on a motorbike by myself.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Right, now, pull the clutch in,’ I instructed, just about stopping myself from laughing when her hand closed around the right handle. ‘No Als, the clutch.’

  ‘I am pulling the clutch!’ she told me, looking thoroughly confused.

  ‘You’re pulling the front brake. The clutch is on the left handlebar,’ I said with a chuckle, putting my hand over hers and helping her to get a good grip. She allowed me to manipulate her fingers around the lever and then looked to me, waiting for another instruction. ‘Now, see the red switch on the right handle?’ She nodded, gaze shifting to it. ‘That’s the kill switch. You need to flip it down.’ I watched as she did what I said, looking back to me once she’d made sure the switch wouldn’t be moving. ‘Ready to switch it on now?’

  ‘Uh, I guess,’ she said, the nod she gave me confident despite her nervous tone.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m right here,’ I assured her. The words made her relax and she took a deep breath before nodding again. ‘Put your right foot down a little and find the kick start lever.’ I watched carefully, making sure her foot found the kick start and not the rear brake before giving her the okay. ‘Now turn the key and shift into neutral.’

  ‘How do I do that?’ she asked, looking down to the lever by her left foot as though expecting to see an N marked on it.

  ‘Go down to first and then up once – watch the gauge.’ She looked back up and kept her eyes on the gauge, the look on her face one of utmost concentration as she moved her foot on the gear shift. Her face lit up with a smile as a small N lit up on the dash. ‘Right, good, now hit the start button.

  She looked around a moment before finding it and pressing it, grinning widely as the bike came to life. ‘Now pull the clutch in and roll back on your heels a bit, get comfortable with it.’ She did as I said, looking slightly anxious at first but visibly relaxing as she got used to it. She turned towards me with a grin, managing to keep herself steady on the bike for a moment before her foot slipped, knocking the bike into gear, the action startling her. I watched as the hand covering the throttle moved, realising what was going to happen seconds before it did as her hand automatically tightened around the handle, the bike shooting forward.

  Alia squealed, floundering as she lost her balance, the bike almost flying out from under her, travelling a few feet before falling on its side as Alia fell back into me.

  We were both still for a minute, staring at my bike on the ground before we looked at each other in shock, silent for a moment longer before we both burst out laughing. ‘Somehow, I don’t think that’s how it was supposed to go,’ Alia said after a minute, managing to keep her face straight for thirty seconds after the words left her mouth before she giggled again.

  ‘No Li, that’s exactly what was supposed to happen,’ I deadpanned, keeping my voice level for long enough to give her an eyeroll before dissolving into chuckles as well.

  It took a few more minutes for us to calm down and, even then, we couldn’t look at each other without laughing.

  Eventually though, we managed to actually go more than 30 seconds without being overcome with giggles and I finally let go of Alia, going to check my bike. ‘Well, good news,’ I called over to my girlfriend, ‘you didn’t kill my bike.’ Her jaw dropped and she practically stomped over to me, hitting me on the arm.

  ‘Me kill your bike? Your bike almost killed me!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘It did no such thing!’ I defended. ‘How is it my poor bike’s fault that you’re so clumsy.’

  ‘What did you just say?’ she demanded, eyes shooting daggers.

  Unfortunately for me, I was yet to grow immune to such glares, despite having received far more than my fair share of them over the years, and I withered under her gaze. ‘I uh, I said neither you nor my bike are at fault. It’s an easy mistake to make, coulda happened to anyone. You’re definitely not at fault, not clumsy at all,’ I hastened to correct myself, forcing myself to swallow before opening my mouth to try again when she simply to continued to glare at me. Except, before I could get so much as half a word out, she dropped the glare and began to laugh again, leaving me to stare indignantly at her.

  ‘Oh my God Jai! I can’t believe you still fall for that!’ she laughed. I opened my mouth to retort but, like always, I suddenly lost the ability to think properly, brain scrambled from trying to process the sudden change in attituded; somehow, I’d never managed to get used to this side of Alia, falling for the same trick every single time.

  I huffed in annoyance and crossed my arms over my chest, pouting like a petulant little kid and just barely resisting the urge to stomp my foot and turn my back to her like I used to when we were kids – a habit that I’d actually outgrown embarrassingly late if I’m honest. But that’s a whole other story.

  Instead of giving into my very childish impulses, I watched her laugh at me, waiting for her to calm her laughter with what I hoped was a stormy look on my face. Eventually, she calmed down – or rather, forced herself to hold back her laughter though an amused little smile still played about her lips.

  ‘Done laughing at my expense, are you?’ I questioned, arching an eyebrow. She nodded, clearing her throat and attempting to school her face into a somewhat neutral expression.

  ‘I’m sorry. But you haveta admit, it is kinda funny.’

  ‘You know, you really suck at apologies,’ I told her with an
eyeroll and a sigh; ‘but fine, apology accepted I guess.’ She beamed at me and I tried to fight back the instinctive answering smile that wanted to make its way onto my face – to no avail. I grinned right back at her, shaking my head and letting out a fond chuckle. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, looking a little confused. ‘’s nothing. Just wondering how the hell I’m still not used to that.’

  ‘’s just one of those things innit Jai?’ she asked with a shrug. ‘Like the way we never got used to Mr. V being so cheerful all the time or the fact I’ll never get used to your cool logic. Or the way I still get surprised when you show me that senti side of yours.’

  I hummed my agreement and then chuckled some more, receiving another questioning look. ‘I mean, you can’t really blame me, can you? You do look eerily similar to your mother with the tone and the glare.’

  Her jaw dropped open and her eyes narrowed and I gulped, shit scared now because, this time, she really was mad. I knew better than to stay within arm’s reach of her after actually pissing her off so I bolted, literally jumping over my bike and running towards the – thankfully open – gate that lead to the Sharma’s back garden, figuring if I ran fast enough, she wouldn’t be able to catch up to me given how she wasn’t supposed to over-exert herself.

  ‘Jaival Ryan Edmonds, get back here!’ she called after me and, for a minute, I thought that maybe I was right.

  And then I glanced over my shoulder to see her scrambling over the bike to chase after me, looking absolutely murderous. It was probably a very stupid idea to shoot her a shit-eating grin and call ‘catch me if you can.’ So, of course, that’s exactly what I did.

  ‘Tu maru haath nu maar kawanu cho aaje,’ she threatened, raising a hand menacingly.

  ‘Ooh, I’m so scared,’ I said sarcastically, still running

  ‘Kobr je tu. Just you wait.’

  ‘Kobru chu,’ I called back, literally coming to a halt to emphasise my point. ‘Su karwani cho tu? What’re you gonna do, Li?’ Her eyes narrowed more than I thought possible and I realised I should probably be genuinely worried about what she’d do to me if she did manage to catch up. Of course, I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of seeing that. So, instead, I did the oh-so-logical thing and continued to taunt her. ‘Come on Lia, I’m stood right here. Avija tu.’

  I knew I’d gone and put my foot in my mouth again when she started forwards again and decided I should probably stop running my mouth and start actually running.

  Unsurprisingly, she gave chase, going faster than I’d thought she’d be able to. I headed for the grass at the very back of the garden, next to the vegetable patches, where aunty was hanging the washing out to dry. ‘Aunty, save me!’ I called, darting to hide behind her.

  She laughed, letting me crouch behind her as she watched her daughter advance. ‘Ma, move!’ Alia told her mum, sending me a glare.

  ‘Kem, su tyu betta? What happened?’

  ‘What happened is that Jaival doesn’t know when to shut his mouth,’ she all but growled, glowering in my direction.

  ‘I didn’t say anything wrong!’ I protested, raising my hands in surrender while simultaneously trying to make myself as small as possible.

  ‘Really? You sure about that?’ she questioned, her tone telling me that my answer was definitely wrong.

  ‘I, uh, yes?’ I answered, cringing as I realised the words had come out way less confident than I’d intended.

  ‘You wanna try again?’ she offered, standing with her hands on her hips.

  ‘I-I mean, it really wasn’t that bad,’ I tried to justify. ‘All I said was that you look like your mum when you get mad like that. Hun kaink khotu toh nah kidhu, right aunty?’ I asked, hoping Jaya aunty would side with me.

  ‘Jai, betta,’ aunty began in a tone that let me know I was wrong; ‘you’re an idiot.’

  ‘Oh, come on aunty,’ I whined while Alia laughed. ‘Surely you should be telling her to take it as a compliment!’

  ‘Betta, never tell a girl she reminds you of her mother when she’s angry,’ aunty advised, laughing, ‘any other time, she’ll be thrilled. When she’s mad, it’ll only make things worse.’

  I sighed and risked taking a glance around aunty, seeing Alia glaring at me with her arms crossed her chest, a see? look on her face. ‘Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?’ I exclaimed, standing up so that I could throw my arms up in the air exasperatedly. My statement was met with two identical really Jaival? looks and I shrugged, giving them my best innocent what? look in return.

  ‘Jai, how long have you known me?’ Alia asked.

  ‘Uhm, I dunno. Eighteen years or so?’ I said, my answer coming out as a question again.

  ‘Right. So, in eighteen years, don’t you think you should have learnt something?’ she demanded, hands on hips.

  I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying anything that would land me in more shit, my willpower being sorely tested when aunty moved to stand beside her daughter, both giving me identical looks as they stood in the exact same position. ‘I uh, I guess I probably should’ve, yeah,’ I answered, schooling my features into an apologetic expression. ‘Sorry, won’t happen again.’

  ‘Alright, fin. You’re forgiven I guess,’ she relented with a long-suffering sigh.

  We all fell silent for a moment, me and Alia taking the time to calm down, until aunty broke the silence with ‘so, how did the bike lesson go?’ Me and Alia exchanged a quick glance and then I looked down, swallowing back my laughter.

  ‘Good ma, it was uh, it was good,’ Alia told her, voice laced with laughter.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Alia

  After the incident with the motorbike, we decided I’d probably be better off sticking to sitting on the back of the bike instead of at the controls. ‘Well, at least I tried,’ I said as I ticked it off my list, laughing as Jai stuck a picture he’d managed to get of me on the bike into the first page of The Bucket List scrapbook we’d started.

  ‘Yeah, you tried,’ he agreed. ‘And here’s hoping you never try again.’ I hit him on the arm and he laughed, catching my hand and wrapping his around it. ‘So, what’s next on the list?’

  ‘Do London as a tourist.’

  ‘Hmm, okay. When’re we going to London then?’

  ***

  The weekend after that, we went to London. Originally, only me and Jai were supposed to go but, after a lot of convincing, some pleading and the cunning deployment of Zia and her puppy-dog eyes, we managed to convince papa to close the shop for the weekend so everyone could come along.

  We visited Big Ben – which, I have to admit, was kind of a let-down – and rode the London Eye. The fun in that came both from seeing the entirety of London spread out below us and watching Zia alternate between squealing excitedly and hiding behind her hands when she realised how high up we were – and then peeking through her fingers and squealing again.

  We took a boat ride down the Thames, which was a little cold with the wind off the water, got lost on the tube, ended up coming out at Baker Street completely by accident. Of course, we had to take advantage of that so we hung around there for a little while, taking pictures outside number 221b.

  It felt good, normal, and, for the entire time we spent roaming around the capital, I forgot about my traitorous heart and its numbered beats.

  ***

  London took up three pages in the scrapbook. It took us hours to get everything all stuck in, both of us laying on the floor of Jai’s sitting room with supplies spread around us. I cut down the sheets of A4 we’d printed the pictures out on and then mounted them on pieces of card, handing them off to Jai who stuck them in, the both of them working together to arrange the tube tickets, attraction flyers and other bits we’d picked up around them.

  ‘Jai?’ I asked after we’d finished.

  ‘Yeah.’ I turned my head to look at him, watching as he looked at the page in front of him in consideration. As I looked at him, all the things I could’ve said to
him then died on my tongue.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said instead, deciding that now wasn’t the right time to tell him what I was thinking, not when he looked so happy.

  I couldn’t make myself say what was on my mind, not to Jai, not to anybody. Because everyone was starting to really hope, to forget that there was nothing to be done, to think that there might really be a cure. They had all began to forget that these days were limited, that this was nothing more than a year or so off really.

  Everyone except me.

  I almost envied them, the way they could hope, could forget. Because I couldn’t. There was no forgetting when I had to live with it, day and night. I could feel it, the way my heart beat to a different rhythm sometimes, the way my chest ached for no reason. And sometimes, it felt like, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t breathe deeply enough.

  But, as much as I wished I could forget too, I was glad they could in all honesty. So, I said nothing at all, choosing not to remind him, just leaned up and kissed him.

  I’d hidden before, hidden the disease and its symptoms when they were so much worse, I could do it again. Hell, there was very little I couldn’t do if it meant that the people I love could breathe a little easier, smile a little brighter, laugh a little louder.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jai

  ‘D’you r’member when we were about five and Tony had all that spare wood from one of his jobs so he built us a tree house?’ Alia asked out of the blue one night as we sat on her bed, snacks scattered around us, Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham playing on the TV.

  ‘Of course I do. I also remember the last time we went up there was two years ago and the wood was so rotten in places that you very nearly ended up taking the quick route back down,’ I recalled with a soft chuckle. ‘Why? What’re you thinking?’

  ‘Let’s carve our initials into that tree.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Carving my initials into a tree, it’s on the list. So, let’s carve our initials on the tree house tree,’ she explained like it was the simplest, most logical thing in the world.