One Foot In The Grave

Chapter 20: The Devil And The Accomplice

Ahalya, Day 19

I stared at the paper in my hands. Although my vision was blurry, I tried to understand. I woke up in Vishwa's old bedroom with another sketch by my side. This time there was only one. No more. No less. The yellow bulb in the room flickered and flickered and flickered. More than it did in the last few days. I put the sketch aside, unable to comprehend.

The previous night clung to me like clotted blood over a wound. Whatever I knew of my fiancé, he had kissed Indira all the same. Under the moonlight for the extra punch. I slept right after I came home. Vasu was nowhere to be found, so I had drunk two glasses full of water and slept.

Now, waking up here didn't scare me like before. A persisting calmness took over me as I learned that someone was doing this to me. I had to figure this out and leave this godforsaken village.

I looked at the paper again and realized it was upside down. It was the sketch of our shed. With the paper flapping in my hand, I walked to our room. Vishwa slept on my side of the bed and watching him brought back the image of the kiss, and I shook my head. Stop it. Let it go, I warned myself. From the window, I watched the shed. The darkness fogged it, and all I could see was our car's rear in the subtle moonlight.

I never drew the shed before. The other day, we established I had been drawing the garden and a family. Allegedly, the family being Indira and Jagadeesh, since I wasn't sure of anything.

Part of me wanted to lie down, but I didn't. Not with Vishwa. Sleep had been long gone, anyway.

Why the shed? Vasu would check it out: a whisper entered my head. Yes, he would.

I left the room, and that seemed like walking away from Vishwa. I liked the thought. The corridor was dark and Yamuna had shut her room's door. My feet complemented the soft roughness of the floor since I made no sound walking, just a silent brush, brush, brush.

When I entered the living room, the smell of incense caught me off guard. The sofa was facing the corner instead of the wall. That's not important, said the flutter of paper in my hand. So I reached the front door, grasped the latch, and wiggled it backwards. After a low squeal, it came fast.

I stepped out into the Veranda and shivered. The wind bit my skin. My full-sleeved t-shirt and the silly skinny jeans did nothing to help. On the gravel path, I saw the gate into the garden shiver to the wind. "Same pinch," I said, embracing myself.

Midway, I thought I heard a growl, but it turned out to be a trick of the wind.

In the shed, the grey Audi rested in the dark, still and cold, like a dead beast. Yamuna had gifted this for my engagement. She put the keys in my hand and said, "Don't wine and drive." The only remark I remembered from that day.

I reached a corner and ran my hand on the wall for the light switch. With a click, the shed gained a gleaming white. I saw the sketch again and observed the repetitive pencil strokes. I had drawn the car in a thicker style than I normally do.

Following the whistling wind, there came a sudden thump from the car. My heart jumped in my chest and I tripped backwards, hitting an iron pole.

There was a bloody hand mark on the car's back window. The viscous blood still flowed from the edges. Vasu was inside, his shadow was slanted and low in the seat. I couldn't believe my eyes. It's a dream, I thought. Yet, the place seemed larger for a dream. Plus the pain of hitting the pole just started reaching me.

"Vasu, Vasu," I called and attempted to open the door. "What happened?"

Blood covered half his face while his right eye swelled in black. He toppled and arched in the seat. I slapped on the window and he raised his face to me, crying. His lips moved, but I struggled to pick up.