The Bride and other short stories

One for the Road

She was cursed with perpetual bad luck.

Her vision was blurry as she peered out of her car windshield, the rain coming down in torrents around her. The night was dark and the humidity made her to lift her long hair from her neck and fan herself.

The bangles she had been wearing jangled loudly in the car. The rain still fell, but she waited till it had slowed to a drizzle. Sighing, she took out her old trusted black umbrella, grabbed her purse and stepped out on the dark highway.

There were cars passing her by but most people out so late in the night were drunk and probably criminals. She shuddered in spite of the heat, aware that her backless blouse and drenched sari would attract many a lewd gaze.

Maybe she was stupid to abandon the relative safety of the vehicle and trudge by herself on the highway in impractical sandals and fake jewelry. In an area full of highway robbers no less. She hoped someone would see her plight and offer assistance. 

She heard a loud cacophony of horns and looked up to see a truck go by, the cleaner making a lewd gesture. She felt heat rising in her face, a mix of embarrassment and anger, but mostly anger. This wasn't a place for a lone girl wandering about.

She trudged for awhile, trying to lift her saree and petticoats from the muddy ground. The highway was surrounded by fields on both sides and she was vulnerable to threats both human and animal.

She stopped in her tracks, wondering what lurked in the fields. She heard a sound and listened closely, but it was just the chirping of the cicadas. Her feet were leaden though, refusing to take her farther from the sanctuary of her car.

She decided to turn about, she hadn't seen any hotel or garage in this direction, and was unlikely to do so. Her nervous fingers dug into the purse and held on to her phone, but she knew she couldn't call for help.

Her throat was dry and then she heard it. A car pulled up behind her and the driver stepped out and called to her.

"Madam? Why are you walking alone? Do you need help?"

The driver was a man in his thirties and he didn't look like a rapist or a murderer. Maybe those henpecked family men who worked nine to five for a pittance. His face was open, guileless and he gave her a reassuring smile.

"You need a lift? I am going towards Mumbai."

She sighed and looked towards the fields, pausing for any indication that she should take up his offer. She heard something like a whistle, surely that wasn't just the wind? She looked at the man in confusion and, coming to a decision, shook her head slightly.

"I will walk on my own, thank you."

But the man had already started walking towards her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from turning away.

"I can't let you wander this road alone. There are reports of highway robberies. And I can't leave you to the mercy of the drunk, truck drivers now, can I?" She still hesitated and he said, "Let me drop you to the nearest petrol pump or hotel then? A lift which will put my mind at ease? Please?"

She sighed, realized it wasn't raining anymore, and closed her umbrella. She nodded at him and he led her to his car. It was an old car, not fancy by any means, and he had stuffed animal toys in the back window. The seat covers were old and worn, screaming out the middle class status of the owner.

She occupied the front seat next to him and gave him a smile. He grinned and started the car.

"It's fun to share a trip with someone, isn't it? I was getting bored driving at night, and now we can talk and I would probably not fall asleep behind the wheel, right?"