December 1966 Watakälé
The train puffed into Diyatalāwa station. Hurling herself off the train, Shiro threw herself into Victor’s arms and then hugged Edward with equal vigour. ‘It’s good to be home.’
‘Hey, princess. I thought you loved school?’ Edward hugged her and set her down on the platform. Victor jumped on the carriage and pulled her bags off.
Love school? Please! But they all thought she was happy in Colombo – all except Lakshmi, of course. Lakshmi knew the truth.
With a wheeze and a loud hoot the train pulled away from Diyatalāwa station.
Shiro looked around. ‘Where’s Lakshmi? Mummy said she was sick.’ Was it her imagination or did a shadow flit across Victor’s eyes? ‘I told mum in my last letter. I so want to see her. Surely she can’t still be sick? I asked mum to send her to the station.’
‘She’s sick, Shiro. And stop being a drama queen.’ Victor snapped.
Shiro stared at her oldest brother. Victor never scolded her. A gentle reprimand tempered by a hug was the worst that ever passed between them. ‘But Lakshmi hasn’t replied to my letters for about six months. She couldn’t have been sick all that time. What kind of illness could that be?’
Victor and Edward exchanged glances. This had to be bad. They were keeping something from her. The three of them never had secrets.
‘What’s happening?’ She looked from one to the other.
Edward threw an arm over Shiro’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Shiro. String hoppers and chicken curry awaits you at home. Let’s find Hemachandra’s lorry.’
Hemachandra Mudalali was one of their father’s good friends. Whenever they arrived on the train from Colombo, they rode his lorry from Diyatalāwa to Watakälé. Edward and Shiro squeezed into the front of the lorry with the driver, while Victor hopped in the back among the sacks of rice and bags of produce. Shiro liked Hemachandra Mudalali. He was fond of her too. Often they stopped at his store or house for tea before driving home with the lorry driver. Today she found a box of Black Magic chocolates on the passenger seat with a note ‘from Hemachandra Uncle to Shiro baby’.
Edward ripped it open and shoved a mint cream in his mouth. ‘Here.’ He held the open box to Shiro. ‘Stop being a glum puss and stuff your face with some cherry chocolate.’
‘No.’ Shiro pushed the box aside and turned to look at Victor through the back window of the driver’s cab. ‘What happened to Lakshmi? Why are you not telling me about her? She will be better when she sees me.’
She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a box. She opened it to show a bracelet and chain of blue semi-precious stones set in silver. ‘You know how Lakshmi loves brightly coloured jewellery. All she has ever had are those stupid glass bangles her mother discards. I saved my pocket money all year to buy her these as a Christmas present. Don’t tell her though, okay? She’ll love them, I know she will.’ Shiro shut the box and clasped it to her bosom, as if the jewellery were Lakshmi herself. ‘If this doesn’t make her feel better, nothing will.’ She prattled on about Colombo. Her brothers remained silent.
Forty-five minutes later, they were home. Jumping out of the lorry, Shiro dashed inside and flew into her father’s arms. Her mother hugged her with a dignity Shiro now knew came from an upbringing where people didn’t act intimate in public. ‘Mum, I got an “A” report. That should make you happy. And guess what? I passed Tamil literature. I can now put all that behind me and concentrate just on the science subjects.’ Shiro looked closely at her mother. ‘Mum, you look so tired. Isn’t Lakshmi here to help you with the Christmas cooking?’
‘Come, darling,’ her mother took her hand and hustled her into her bedroom. ‘I made you a new purple and white quilt. You can take it to school next term. Now you must wash and get ready for dinner.’
Shiro followed her mother. Why was everyone dodging her questions? What was going on?
Soon they were sitting at dinner table. Usually Lakshmi would serve them. Today Raaken brought in the food. Shiro looked around at her brothers and parents. Everyone seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her. Even Raaken shuffled out without greeting her. Then Edward caught her eye and winked. Victor frowned at Edward and looked down at his plate. They all picked at their food.
There was silence around the table. The family were never this silent at the beginning of the Christmas break.
‘Tell us about school, darling,’ her mother smiled across the table.
‘Mum, you know all there is to know. I write it all to you weekly,’ Shiro looked around the table. ‘What’s with you all? How come everyone’s so quiet?’
No one replied. Shiro reached for a string hopper. ‘Mum, where’s Lakshmi?’
Everyone froze. Shiro looked around, puzzled. Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. Victor and Edward looked at each other. Her father stared at his string hoppers as if he’d never seen one before. Raaken stood with one hand on the door post.
Long moments passed by. Shiro stared from one to the other. ‘I will talk with you about it later, darling,’ her mother waved her hand, dismissing the topic.
A memory flashed into Shiro’s mind – memory of a cat, its skull crushed by a falling Jak fruit. Her mother had said exactly the same words in exactly the same tone.
She wanted to throw up the string hopper she had just swallowed. Something had happened to Lakshmi. Maybe she was not just sick. ‘Is she dead?’ she whispered.
‘Of course not, darling.’ Her mother frowned. ‘Why would you think that? She’s just – well, not in a fit state to come play with you these holidays.’
‘Then she’s dying!’ Shiro’s voice rose in pitch. ‘She’d never keep away from me unless she was dying! I must go see her at once.’ Shiro sprang up, tilting the plate, spilling the string hoppers on the tablecloth. The chair rocked and crashed to the floor.
‘For goodness’ sake, tell her the truth. She’s sixteen, she can handle it.’ Victor’s voice was sharp with anxiety.
There was silence around the table as the family looked at each other.
Raaken rushed in and wiped the spilt string hoppers. He pulled up Shiro’s chair.
‘Handle what?’ Shiro said.
Her mother reached over and took Shiro’s hand. ‘Darling, Lakshmi isn’t actually sick,’ she said. ‘She can’t come to be with you because she’s pregnant.’
Everyone watched Shiro. No one spoke. The grandfather clock in the sitting room droned out seven chimes.
How could she be pregnant? Pregnant meant sex. Sex meant marriage. She realised what must have happened. ‘What do you know? Lakshmi beat me to it! So what’s the big secret there? She got married and is pregnant.’ She laughed and looked around the table. ‘Relax, okay? I’ve learned about how people get pregnant.’ Shiro sat down and reached for another string hopper. ‘Who did she marry, Mum? Can I go visit her tomorrow? When’s the baby coming? Guess it must have been a real rush thing? We promised to be at each other’s weddings. But then she’s so much older, I guess she couldn’t wait!’ She mixed in the chicken curry and took a mouthful. ‘I can’t wait to see her.’
Silence descended around the table again. Shiro stopped eating and looked around the table. Her mother had her head bent. Her eyes were shut tight. Tears trickled down her cheek. Her father leant his elbows on the dining table, his hands tented as if in prayer. Victor stared at the floor. Edward rocked back, staring at the ceiling, his fingers interlaced on his stomach. Shiro looked from face to face. The air around the table was oppressive, frightening.
Her father scraped his chair back and stood up. ‘I’m going back to the factory to check the withering,’ he said. ‘Victor, you said Shiro can handle it. You tell her.’ He turned and walked out.
Victor took a deep breath. He got up, took Shiro’s hand and walked with her out into the garden. A cold breeze blew from the valley, working chilly fingers into their clothes. Victor drew her down on the little wooden bench under the mango tree. She moved close to her brother and pulled her purple jumper around her.
Victor put his arm around her. ‘You see, Shiro, Lakshmi is pregnant, but she’s not married. The father will never marry her. He doesn’t want anything to do with Lakshmi or the baby.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know who the father is. Mum and Dad are trying to help her. She has gone away to have her baby. Dad will get a job for her after the baby is born. That’s the best we can hope for.’
This could not be happening. They had shared their most intimate secrets, planned to spend their lives together. Lakshmi had promised to be at her wedding. Their children were going to play together among the tea bushes, maybe even marry each other. Lakshmi and she were to grow old together as best friends.
‘The baby?’ she stammered.
‘Will go to an orphanage. Probably be adopted out.’
The pain and sorrow that Lakshmi must feel weighed down on Shiro’s heart. She should have known. Deep sobs tore through her. She should have insisted that she come home when Lakshmi stopped writing. She could have done something. Found the man. She, Shiro, could have made him marry Lakshmi.
She leapt up and spun round to face Victor. ‘But Victor, what if we could find the father? What if we told him what a wonderful girl Lakshmi is? What if he saw the baby? Surely he’ll want them both back in his life!’
Victor sighed. He took Shiro’s hands in his. ‘No, Shiro. I told you. He doesn’t want to know anything about it. He never wants to see Lakshmi ever again. I don’t even know who he is.’
Shiro glanced up. Her mother stood at the back door, watching.
Shiro closed her eyes. She let her tears burn their way down her cheeks. This was her life, her family watching over her, always. Making sure she did the right thing, spoke to the right people and acted in the right way. Protecting her, keeping her innocent. Sending her to the right school so she could be ready to wed the man they choose to be a suitable mate for her.
No more.
She shook Victor’s hands off. ‘Some bastard raped her, right?’ she shouted.
Victor jumped up and grasped her shoulders. ‘What do you know about rape? And I thought school taught you not to swear!’
Shiro squirmed away from him. She felt hysteria bubble up in her. She gestured to her body. ‘Victor, look at me! I’m an adult! I have breasts! I get periods!’
Victor’s jaw dropped to the ground.
‘I know about sex and babies! Boys and men stare at me! They want to kiss me, make love to me. I know they do!’ She laughed. ‘Even on the train today.’
‘Aiyoo, mahal. Where did you learn all this?’ Her mother stood beside Victor. Her face pale, her eyes wide. Hands covered her mouth.
Shiro spun around to face her mother. ‘Not from those prudish teachers at that boarding school you sent me to. Where you think I am incredibly accepted and happy. The girls had a book. It had drawings of penises and vaginas and what happens with them. Some girls have boyfriends. They have sex with them and then talk about it. They boast about what they do. And rape – that’s what happened to the girls during the riots, remember? You said you saw it, Victor!’
Edward came out to join Victor and her mother. ‘Shiro, darling,’ Victor started.
‘No!’ Shiro broke away from the circle of her family and fled to her room. She hurled herself onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow and howled.
She stayed in bed, breathing heavily, her face buried in her pillow. She had no more tears to shed. Her mother and brothers stood talking outside her room. ‘Now what can we do? We can’t let her see Lakshmi, she won’t understand.’ Her mother spoke in a hushed whisper.
Victor responded, his voice tinged with concern. ‘She’s not as ignorant about these things as we thought, Mum. Let’s just get through Christmas. She’s young; she’ll outgrow her attachment to Lakshmi. She talks about her new friend, Lalitha. She’ll be okay.’
Shiro felt incredibly lonely. Outgrow her attachment – is that what they call it – her love for her best friend? Her soul-mate and she was supposed to outgrow it over Christmas. Replace Lakshmi with Lalitha. She loved Lalitha, but it was different. Nothing would be the same again.
Her mother came in and sat on the corner of her bed. She caressed Shiro’s back, as if to absorb some of the pain.
‘I want to see her!’
‘You can’t see her, darling. She’s not here; we’ve arranged a job for her. It’s best you don’t see her again. I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry.’
‘No you’re not. None of you are.’ Shiro mumbled into her pillow. ‘None of you understand, do you? You wanted me to stop seeing her because she’s a coolie and you want me to make friends with high-class Tamil people and move up in society. You think that the private school and Colombo will do that. You don’t know anything. The girls are snobs. I don’t fit in there. And now I don’t fit here either. Lakshmi was my best friend. And now she’s gone. You sent her away! I have no one.’ she sobbed.
Her mother continued stroking Shiro’s back. ‘Darling, please try to understand. Lakshmi got pregnant. If we acknowledge it, people will think Daddy or one of the boys is responsible. I know how you loved her and she loved you too. But this is not just about you, darling. It’s about family honour.’ She got up and left the room.
Shiro stayed in bed, hugging the pillow. Deep shudders rent her body. She thought of Lakshmi’s Christmas present – the blue bracelet and chain.
Lakshmi, her dearest friend, pregnant — a bastard baby — what will become of it? Who is the father? What will become of you, Lakshmi?
No. She would find Lakshmi. She knew who would help her.