by G. P. Ching
Chapter 36
The Gift
Malini climbed through her bedroom window with a flat of mums in her hands. The balcony outside her room was small but it was also her most prized space. It was hers, just hers. No one else ever came out here, which was good because it was just big enough for one.
The flower boxes served as her garden. The petunias she had planted in the spring were dying off. Today, she would replace them with burgundy mums that would withstand the cold October nights. Her mother purchased them for her from the Laudners’ shop. Malini wouldn’t go in there anymore. Just walking by the window broke her heart all over again.
She set the tray of flowers down and picked up her spade. As she turned toward the first box, ready to dig out the petunias, she noticed some garbage in the corner of her balcony. It looked like a wad of wet newspaper. How rude of someone to toss their junk up here, into her space. She bent over to pick it up with every intention of throwing it away.
The paper turned to mush in her hand. Still wet, it came apart in soggy sections. There was a box wrapped in it. By the looks of it, the box had been out there a long time.
She opened the lid.
When she saw the silver bracelet, she knew exactly whom it was from. But she pulled out the note and read it twice anyway.
She agreed with him on one thing: what happened was the worst thing he’d ever done. However, the note made her wonder if one event defined her opinion of him.
Was Jacob the worst thing he’d ever done? Could she forgive his trying to force her through the tree? Or did what happened mean that he was and always would be someone who tried to manipulate her?
Jacob had lived a hard life, losing his parents and being forced to leave his home. Of course it had affected him. After what happened that Saturday afternoon with Dane, he had probably given up any hope of a normal life. Malini wondered what that could do to a person, what she might do in that situation. What risks might she take, if she had nothing left to lose?
The truth was that Malini hadn’t been completely honest with Jacob either. Technically, he’d never asked her why she was so interested in his gift. He’d never wondered aloud, why she felt they were brought together for a purpose. And she had never offered the information.
A lie of omission.
She crawled back through her window and walked to her closet. On her tippy toes she felt around on the top shelf for another box, this one covered in red velvet with gold embroidery. As her fingers found the soft edges, she remembered the day the man had given it to her.
Malini was six years old and still living in India when her father took her on a journey to Ladakh. She didn’t remember much about the travel itself, although with how remote the region was they must have driven for hours to get there. What stood out in her memory was the Buddha. The gigantic gold man seemed to be watching her from his seat, his hand raised, as if he was waving hello to her. In the background, the snap of the prayer flags created a soothing hum.
Her father was taking pictures. The job he wanted in England had come through and they would be moving in just a couple of months. This was his last chance to capture the beauty of the region. His right eye saw the Buddha through the camera lens. His left eye was closed to the world, which explained why he didn’t see the man approach his little girl, an event that would have surely caught his attention at any other time.
“Hello, sister,” the soft voice had said to her.
She looked up into the smiling face of a man with very short hair and a bright red robe.
“Hello,” she said. “But I am not your sister. I am the only child in my family.”
“Not that kind,” the man said. “Sister in faith. You are visiting our Buddha, yes?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I have something for you.”
“Because I’m a visitor?”
“No, because you are you and being you, there is a need for it.”
Malini did not understand what the man was talking about and looked back up at the statue, hoping he would go away. Instead, the man handed her the box. She opened the lid. Written in calligraphy on parchment, there was a word in Sanskrit.
“What does it say?” she asked.
“It is the name of your destiny, given to me in meditation.”
“What is my destiny? What does it say?”
“It is pronounced apas, translated water.”
“Water is my destiny?” she giggled.
The man giggled too, as if he found it as silly as she did. “Well, little girl, for now maybe it is just a pretty box that you should keep to remind you of your visit here.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at the word. When she looked back up, the man was gone.
Ten years later, Malini found herself looking at the word in a new light. She opened the blue box from Jacob and removed the bracelet. She remembered the way he had brought its predecessor from the water and froze it around her wrist. The metal felt just as cold on her skin as she worked the clasp.
It was time for her to forgive Jacob and to learn the whole truth. It was time for her to face her destiny.
