Read Fifteen Lanes Online

Authors: S.J. Laidlaw

Fifteen Lanes (27 page)

On the day she was released, Pran came into the outer room, walked straight past Shami and me sitting on the floor, went to the door of the box and unlocked it. He didn’t speak to us. I’m not even sure he saw us. He turned and walked straight back out. Shami and I jumped up. Other than Pran, we were the first to see Lali-didi since her return to our house.

“You’re free, Lali-didi,” I called out. “Pran isn’t here. You can come out now.”

After a few minutes of silence, I climbed up on the stool and poked my head through the doorway. Lali-didi was a shadow in the farthest corner. “Come out,” I said gently. She didn’t budge.

I hated the box. My fear of it had only grown over the years. But I had no choice. I climbed in. Shami’s face appeared in the open doorway.

“Shami want Lal-di,” he said.

I reached over and hauled him in as well.

“It’s over, Lali-didi. You have to come out now. You’re safe.” Of all the many lies I’d told in my life, that was perhaps the biggest.

“It is over, isn’t it, Noor?” she said.

“I swear I’ll get you out of here, Lali-didi.” Silently, I added her to my list of people who would someday share my small room in a distant slum.

“We’re almost the same age but I’m not like you,” she said. “I can’t even write my own name. I’ve never been to school. My brother sold me to the brothel in Calcutta. My family was glad to be rid of me. You have a future. This is all I’m good for.”

“You’re wrong. It’s not too late for you to go to school. When I get out, I’ll make a life for all of us.” The tears streamed down my face. I had to make her believe me.

Shami patted my leg. “Don’t cry, Noor-di. Come out, Lal-di. You’re making Noor-di sad.”

The shadow moved. I reached out my hand and Lali-didi took it. We maneuvered awkwardly past Shami and out of the box. He crawled to the door and I lifted him down.

Lali-didi was thinner than I remembered her. Her crocodile arm had completely healed, but I wondered if the wounds
inside her ever could. She looked around bleakly, squinting at the light. I left Shami to guard her while I went to the bottom of our ladder to shout for Deepa-Auntie.

She came running, as I knew she would, and followed me back down the hall to the lock-up. I was surprised to see Ma and several other aunties right behind her.

“It’s a crying shame,” Prita-Auntie muttered, waiting her turn to embrace Lali-didi. “The girl’s not strong enough for the life. Any fool can see that.”

For the rest of the evening, the aunties clucked around her as if she were a precious object, easily broken. Lali-didi drank the tea they served and sat quietly while they washed and brushed her hair, but her despair was written on her body. Nothing anyone did could dislodge it. Pran made a futile effort to send her customers that night. But he couldn’t stand up to the entire house when the entire house united against him. Lali-didi got a single night of peace.

The day after Lali-didi emerged from the box, Nishikar-Sir returned to our home. It was Friday night, the evening my siblings and I were supposed to meet Grace for dinner. We were late leaving the house. I’d spent more time than usual sitting with Lali-didi after school. Like never before, I was aware of the narrow gap in our ages and the vast gulf in our life experiences. I was fearful of what she might do to herself.

I stayed with her until her first customer arrived, even though it meant my siblings and I would have to run to make it to the restaurant in time to meet Grace. She’d texted me twice since the zoo to confirm the meeting. I didn’t know why it was quite so important to her.

When I got downstairs, Shami reported that Aamaal had a
sick stomach and was in the washroom. Together we went to stand outside the locked door. I could smell the problem from the hallway.

“Are you okay in there, Aamaal?”

“No.”

“Try to hurry, we’re running late.”

I held myself back from scolding her, though I was genuinely getting worried about the time. Shami sank down to the floor to wait but I paced in frustration.

I was just on the point of texting Grace to let her know we’d be late when I heard loud voices coming around the corner. It didn’t even occur to me to think of Nishikar-Sir. I’d been so absorbed by Lali-didi’s tragedy, I’d forgotten my own danger. But when I heard a harsh male voice call my name, I felt a stab of fear. There was one way out of the building and that was in the direction of the man calling my name. The only hiding places I could get to quickly were the toilet, which Aamaal was currently occupying, and the washing room beside it. The washing room was a tiny closet, not more than four feet square, completely devoid of anything but a tap and a drain. Anyone looking for me would find me the second they opened the door, which left only the room Aamaal was currently befouling.

“Shami, you need to tell the men that I’ve gone out to fetch you dinner.”

“Shami having dinner with Grace.”

“I know, baby, but Noor needs to hide from the bad men. Can you help Noor hide?”

Shami’s brow creased. “Noor-di hide,” he said solemnly.

As quietly as possible I tapped on the latrine door.

“Let me in, Aamaal. It’s an emergency.”

“I’m not finished” came her surly reply.

“Please, Aamaal. I need to come in, quickly!”

She unlocked the door just as I heard the voices rounding the corner. I slipped in and locked it behind me. I wasn’t sure if I’d been spotted. The smell in the room made me gag but it also filled me with hope. If I could find someplace to hide I was certain the men wouldn’t give the room any more than a very brief once-over.

“Pran and Nishikar-Sir are coming, Aamaal,” I whispered, looking down to where she was crouching above the hole. “They can’t know I’m here.”

She nodded in understanding. It broke my heart at how easily she accepted a dangerous situation.

“If they open the door, I will stand behind it,” I whispered. “You must make sure they don’t open it too far. Can you do that?”

She nodded again.

“Hello, Shami.” Voices were just on the other side of the door. I recognized Pran’s. “Where’s Noor, Shami?”

“Noor-di buy kebabs,” said Shami.

I had to smile. I almost never bought kebabs. We couldn’t afford them, but they were Shami’s favorite. If I got through this, he was definitely getting kebabs tonight.

“Would she leave them alone?” asked another male voice. It had to be Nishikar-Sir.

“She wouldn’t leave them on the street but she’d leave them in here if she was just going out to get food,” said Pran.

“I told you I wanted to see her. Why would you let her go out?”

“I’m very sorry, Nishikar-Sir, I didn’t know you were coming tonight, you didn’t—”

Pran’s obsequious pleading was cut short by a loud thwack.

“Do you think I have time for your excuses, you useless mule? Go find the girl and bring her to me.”

“She might be in there, Nishikar-Sir.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place? Are you trying to hide her from me?”

There were two more loud cracks, accompanied by Pran’s whimpers. I had to admit I felt a grim satisfaction in hearing him get beaten.

I jumped at a sharp rap on the door and I pressed against the wall.

“I’m in here!” shouted Aamaal.

“Is that you, Aamaal?” It was Pran again, though his voice sounded different than I’d ever heard it, weak and frightened. “Where is your sister?”

“She went to buy food,” said Aamaal.

“Why did she leave you two here?”

“I have bad diarrhea. Do you want to see?”

If I hadn’t been so terrified, I would have laughed.

“These children are more effort than they’re worth,” snarled Nishikar-Sir. “I hope you charge Ashmita double to let them stay here.”

I bristled with indignation. We were already charged for every bucket of water, the rental of Ma’s bed, a share of the electricity and we bought all our own food. What more could we be charged for?

“Of course, Nishikar-Sir, we’ll certainly do that.”

“I’ve been offered a good price for the girl, Pran. I’ll be back for her before morning. When she returns, lock her up.”

My blood pulsed in my ears. It was true, then. That was his plan. I was trembling so much I had to sit down on the filthy, urine-stained floor.

“I understand, sir. It’s just that I think Ashmita was hoping to delay a little longer. The girl’s a top student, medal-winning.”

“Education is wasted on girls. It only gives them expectations they have no right to. Ashmita’s delayed long enough. How old is the girl, thirteen, fourteen? Does Ashmita plan to wait until the blossom has wilted? She’s worth less every day.”

“But the Devadasis, sir, they support each other. If you anger one—”

“Let them experience my anger! The Devadasis are born to be whores. They should know their place. If Ashmita cooperates, the girl can continue to work here. If she doesn’t … well, I have brothels all over the country. I’ll send her away and Ashmita will never see her again. See how she likes that!”

“Ashmita’s been a good earner for—”

Again Pran was cut off. The door reverberated as something slammed into it. There was a muffled grunt.

“Ashmita will be dead within two years. Her earnings are already a fraction of what the young girls bring in. The lounge is full tonight because you got the young one back. We need more like her. We’re doing the lot of them a favor by training the girl. Everyone expects something for nothing. Who does she think will feed those brats once she’s gone?”

Loud footsteps receded down the hallway. I rose heavily to
my feet and put a cold hand on the door. I was on the point of opening it when Shami spoke.

“Why are you sitting there, Pran-ji. Do you feel sick?”

Clever boy. I didn’t know Pran was still outside.

“Shut up!”

There was scuffling, at first quiet and then louder.

“Let go, Pran-ji.”

“You’re coming with me. It’s long past time I introduced you to a little place where your sister spent many nights at your age.”

No! I threw open the door and took in the scene in an instant: Shami was twisting and cowering away, trying desperately to escape as Pran dragged him down the hall. I saw the familiar light of excitement in Pran’s eyes as the tears rolled down Shami’s face. My little brother, who’d endured countless injections, a life of wracking coughs and constant illness, who never complained, never cried. I ran after them and leaped on Pran’s back, pummeling him.

“Let go of him!” I screamed.

Pran dropped Shami as he turned his attention to me, raising his hands to ward off my blows while trying to grab my swinging arms at the same time. I felt rather than saw Aamaal join the fray. Pran howled in pain. I knew Aamaal had bitten him. I’d suffered her bites myself on many occasions. He lashed out, and I heard the sickening crack of his fist hitting flesh. It wasn’t my own, so it had to be one of my siblings’. I turned to look and saw Aamaal flying through the air. She cracked against the wall and dropped to the floor. She lay still, whimpering. I left Pran to rush to her but he grabbed me from behind and threw me to the ground. As he bent over
me Shami leaped on his back, a whirlwind of teeth and nails.

“Go get Ma, Shami,” I gurgled as Pran easily shook him off and dragged me to my feet, one hand clutching my hair, the other encircling my throat.

Shami was off, scampering down the hall. Pran didn’t even notice.

“You’ve been trouble since you were a child.” Pran pulled me after him in the opposite direction. “I hope Nishikar-Sir does send you away. I’ll be glad to be rid of you.”

There was only one place we could be going in that direction. The box.

“No, Pran-ji,” I pleaded. “You don’t have to lock me in there. I won’t try to escape. Just let me look after my sister.” I craned my head over his shoulder, trying to see Aamaal. She hadn’t moved from where she’d fallen. Her arm was twisted underneath her body in a way that looked physically impossible. “Please, Pran-ji, I beg you.”

He laughed. “You’re going to be doing a lot of begging over the next weeks, little Noor.”

“STOP!” My mother had come. She rushed forward with an energy I hadn’t seen in weeks and gave Pran a hard shove that made him release me, though he took a chunk of my hair with him. I winced, then ran to Aamaal, still flat on the floor.

“What do you think you’re …?” Ma broke off midsentence when she caught sight of Aamaal. In seconds she was at my side. “What has he done to her?” she demanded.

“She attacked me,” said Pran, coming to stand over us. “You’re lucky I didn’t do worse.”

Ma wasn’t listening. She gently raised Aamaal so she could
free her trapped arm but it dangled uselessly from her shoulder. Aamaal moaned.

“It hurts, Ma,” she said.

Ma laid her down again, positioning the floppy arm at her side. “Stay still, child,” she said. “Noor, go get a dupatta. We need to bind it.”

I jumped up, grateful to have my old ma back and taking charge. Even Pran stepped aside to let me pass as I ran to the ladder. I clambered up, only slowing when my head was above the level of our floor. Deepa-Auntie and Lali-didi were entertaining customers. I was as quiet as possible as I rushed past their closed curtains. Ma’s own bed looked recently vacated. I knelt down and pulled out our box of clothes, taking Ma’s cleanest and least worn dupatta. For a moment I wondered if she’d object, but this was Aamaal. I was sure she would have made the same choice.

I raced back to my sister. Shami and Ma were on the floor comforting her. Pran stood nearby. I helped Ma use the dupatta to bind Aamaal’s arm tightly against her chest.

“We must take her to the hospital. Noor, go out to the main road and bring back a taxi.”

“Noor’s not going anywhere.” Pran suddenly came to life, crossing his arms and spreading his legs in a stance clearly intended to prevent our passage.

“What are you talking about, flea-on-a-rat’s-backside? Noor needs to help me take her sister to hospital. Can’t you see you’ve broken Aamaal’s arm?”

“You can go but Noor stays here.”

“Why should I leave her? What’s it to you?”

“Nishikar-Sir wants to meet her.”

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