tales of Suchita

The door was wide open so Vishesh did not think he would be unwelcome. He had his favourite panda clutched in one hand as he stopped at his parents’ bedroom door. He couldn’t see daddy well but he could see his new mommy. She was asleep. Vishesh remembered her smile. The cookies she had baked yesterday and how she had let him eat one without a plate. Daddy had never allowed him to eat without a plate.

Crumbs Vish, there will be crumbs everywhere and then there will be ants and then they will come and carry you away. And then what will daddy do, hmm?

That theatrical proclamation was usually followed by a belly rub so Vishesh knew he wasn’t in trouble.

Right now, Vishesh needed something, but he did not know what. He stood in the doorway for a long time. So long in fact that he saw daddy’s head pop out from behind the new mommy’s neck. He stifled a scream and brought the panda closer to his chest.

“Vish do you need something?”

Daddy’s hair was standing on one end, just like it did for Vishesh when he had been sleeping really hard. That’s how daddy had described it for him. His galloping heart subsided some and he shook his body no.

Manish knew it hadn’t been easy for Vishesh. Losing the one thing that had kept him tethered to the realm of the living, who had been his comfort and solace, his one point of contact to the rest of the world had impacted him in a way the counsellor had told Manish would manifest and keep manifesting for the rest of his life. He could understand why Vishesh had not warmed up to Ritu even after six months. Ritu had insisted it was okay but it had only made Manish feel like he had disappointed not only Ritu but also Vishesh and Kamini.

“Come on, come up,” he said finally when Vishesh made no move to either go back or come inside.

Vishesh hesitated. Everyone kept insisting that his new mommy was nice. They kept telling him that he needed to start calling her mommy, say that he loved her and be a good son. He did not know what it meant to be a good son anymore. He had thought he was a good son but then mommy had died and left him so where did that leave him?

Kamini’s death was the one thing Vishesh had had no problem understanding. It was everything else: the living without her, the knowledge that she would no longer hug him or make her god-awful cake that tasted more like bread than cake, that there was someone else in her place he had a problem understanding.

When daddy motioned for him to come to bed, Vishesh turned around and went back to his room. He did not see how daddy’s face fell, or the tears that sprang in his eyes.

*

The one incident turned into a routine quickly. Vishesh would walk to their room at odd hours of the morning, wanting something desperately but unable to ask for it. He would stay there for a while and then turn around and walk away.

By day ten, Manish was just about ready to tear his hair and heart out and the strain of keeping both parties stable was starting to show on Ritu’s face. Something was going to give, soon.

It was Vishesh who broke first. It was because his new mommy had smiled at him, a big wide smile, that made her look pretty and homey.

It had been the day before and she had done it because he had given her one of his paintings he had done in school. His teacher had given him a gold star for the sun and bird he had made and it had gone on the refrigerator door. It had done funny things to Vishesh’s stomach.

The next morning, when he turned up at the doorway, he did not hesitate to enter the room. His new mommy was facing him but her eyes were closed. She looked to be asleep but Vishesh did not care. He finally understood what he had been looking for. He climbed onto the bed, trying to wiggle onto the wafer thin space between mommy and the edge of the bed.

Some instinct must have lodged itself free in Ritu’s brain because she shifted, making room for the little body making way onto the bed. She reached out her arm and held the body close to her. She was awake now but afraid to open her eyes. She did not want Vishesh to move away.

She knew when the boy relaxed and slipped into deep sleep. She smiled, feeling a grip on her arm which she knew was Manish. “It’s okay,” she whispered for his benefit. “It’ll be okay now.”

*

The next day, it was Ritu who went to Vishesh’s room. It was she who sat down on the floor as Vishesh enacted the school play in which he was playing a flower in front of her. It was she who gave him a long hug, and baked a cake for him.

And though it did not taste like mommy’s cake, it was still delicious.

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Written as part of Blogchatter’s #MyFriendAlexa.

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