Shape of the Sun

His chaperone, Eloise.

It was night out when he woke up, a total six hours past. He could tell from the absence of sunlight rays that had crept into the room through the blinds earlier in the day.

Rajkumar couldn't believe that he had slept for so long. He felt a little famished, just a bit.

But it wasn't the hunger that had woken him up, no. It was the knock on the door, gentle raps on wood. Someone was out there beckoning to be let in.

The boy quietly slid out of bed and walked to the door. He reached for the handle but didn't turn it down all the way. Instead, he pressed his ear against paneled oak and called out like in the movie he had been watching on the train.

"Who is it?"

The knocking stopped. Then, there was a pause. Then a voice, one so familiar.

"Bonsoir, young master. It's Eloise and I have brought dinner."

It was Eloise, his chaperone. Rajkumar released the breath that he hadn't even realized that he had been holding, relieved. She had been a great help in this strange place. He was in her debt, his boyish heart affirmed this.

Rajkumar turned the handle, opening the door and effectively removing the barrier between him and Eloise. There was a smile on his face as he began speaking to her. His eyes though, pretended not to see the tray of food in her hands despite the opposition coming from his stomach.

"Good evening Eloise. How can I help you?"

"You didn't call nor come out for dinner, young master. So I was worried and brought some for you. Bon appetit."

Looking at her, Rajkumar felt a foray of complex emotions and absurdity. While Eloise was nice and had kept him well entertained by her stories of her travels, he couldn't shake off this feeling of unevenness, that she was being too intentional. He wasn't sure what was up with the others, but Rajkumar had only to spend the first few minutes with her to know that she wasn't really half-French. It was either that, or she was but wasn't fluent in the language.

She never expressed one full sentence in it, and the phrases she used here and there either weren't intoned right or were just not appropriate. It felt embarrassing to see it on a regular because he was one of those who, while they had no trace of French ancestry in their family, was fluent in French.

He and Priyanka had lived in France with Amma for two years when Papaji had a big construction project with their government. So he had gone to school there and picked up the language. Rajkumar could have called her out and be done with it.

But he was too polite to do so. 

Besides, she had done nothing but help him since he got here and she didn't deserve such treatment. Rajkumar was ten, not two. He was well aware that he was more privileged than others and would never have to do some things just to feed. There were lazy opportunists and then there were hardworking folks who saw no other way. 

He remembered what Papaji had said - and his smile became a bit more genuine, eyes directed at the plate of food on the tray.

Was this okay?

"Is this okay?" He meant more than he asked. There was butter chicken on there. Butter chicken was his favorite dish. Rajkumar didn't think he had told anyone yet.

However, her next words eased his unsettling feeling.

"Your mother had called the senior manager who instructed the chef to make this for you. I don't know much about this fancy dish, young master," she glanced at the tray in hand, "but I don't think it will taste as good when cool." then she added, "Bon appetit?"

Rajkumar couldn't hold back his laughter anymore, not with that tangled expression on her face. Prior to her last phrase, all he wanted to do was nod and say that she was right. But after, he couldn't quite do it.

"Hahaha," he chuckled, barely able to contain himself. "Please come in," he said between laughs, holding the door open for her. "Oh my goodness," he continued, struggling to control his laughter, "It's just that...pfft... I just can't with that look." He managed to regain some composure, but a small grin still lingered on his face. "But seriously," he said, his voice now more serious, "please do come in."

It was as if he believed his change in tone will cover up the thinly veiled laughter in his eyes. 

Eloise followed, a sheepish expression on her face.

"How did you know?"

Rajkumar followed her and sat behind the small table where she put the food, a mix of incredulity and amusement in his voice.

"I am fluent. It was so hard not to say anything. J'ai vraiment souffert toutes les fois où je ne pouvais pas signaler chaque fois que vous parliez mal."

"Oh...I'm sorry, young master."

He hurriedly waved his arms, alarmed to see a full-grown adult bow to him. Rajkumar was always of the understanding that they did those sorts of things because his parents were around in the past.

"Oh, no no Eloise. You don't have to do this." he rushed to his feet, embarrassed to keep sitting.

She looked at him, panic in her eyes.

"Please don't tell the manager, young master. I'd be fired. Without this job, I won't be able to take care of my sick husband." Tears fell from her eyes at the end of the sentence.

"Uh...don't cry, don't cry, Eloise. I won't tell anyone, I promise." 

Rajkumar felt stumped on what to do, having never been in such a situation before. Even though she kept apologizing and wiping her tears too, he couldn't help feeling he was somewhat responsible for this. His body moved on its own to his winter jacket, lying on the edge of the bed, and his hand reached into one of the pockets.

He brought it out with a silk handkerchief. It had been a gift from Amma.

"Here. You can use this. It was a gift from my mother, umm...that's that." he quickly added, "And it's new, so there is no need to worry about germs and whatnot. Umm...sorry for that once again."

Rajkumar hurriedly sat down, his eyes fixed on the butter chicken on the plate in a bid to spare her any further embarrassment by watching her wipe tears. He uneasily nodded as she thanked him over and over. He didn't see her eyes flash with a strange light.