Tell A Thousand Lies (35 page)

Aunty got angry. “Great plan. Just lie in bed. Be depressed. Don’t fight for what’s yours. Your son probably loves his stepmother anyway. Why shake things up?”

“Aunty! How can you be so cruel?”

“Someone needs to. You’ve been moping for three weeks. Get yourself out of that bed and think about what needs to be done.”

“I don’t even know his name.”

“And you never will, if all you do is loll around in bed.”

“No!” Suddenly I was filled with rage. They’d taken away what was mine.
 

“Then do something about it.”

I swung my legs to the floor with grim determination. Enough was enough. They wouldn’t get away with stealing my child.

><

Later that evening Janaki aunty and I stood by the pale yellow house at the junction of two roads.

Srikar’s house.

The house was set to the back, the area in front a cemented rectangle. We walked to the house, trying to shield ourselves with the guava tree that grew to one side. A coconut tree, fruit ripe for the picking, stood on the other. An independent house in the city. Srikar seemed to have done well for himself. With a wife that wasn’t me. Raising
my
son. I clenched my fists, shaking with emotion. “This is nonsense,” I said. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Why am I hiding here like some thief? I’m going in to get my child.”

“Don’t be a fool.” Aunty grabbed my arm. “You can’t traumatize your son by springing up with no warning. As far as he is concerned, he already has a mother.”

“I’m hardly liable to forget that, am I?” Blood rushed to my face. “And this ‘your son’ business – we should know his name!”

“We will. I’d just prefer to do it without hurting –” Aunty’s voice caught, “our baby.” She sighed. “I’m not the enemy here, you know.”

I felt ashamed. She was right. I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on her. It was hardly her fault that Kondal Rao was filthier than a cow’s behind.

A child came into the yard. My heart picked up speed. My son? Had to be. He didn’t appear young enough to be Srikar’s child with his wife. He came to the edge of the hedge, chasing a butterfly, arm upraised. I watched him through the dense hedge, straining to get a clear look. He passed a few feet from me, face turned away. To be this close and not touch him, not to see his face even...

I ached that I knew nothing about my child beyond his date of birth. It galled me to think he could pass me on the street, and I wouldn’t know.

><

Early next morning, I waited for word from Janaki aunty. She was near Srikar’s house, waiting for my son to leave for school. Then we’d go in, confront Srikar and his loving wife. I’d opted to wait a distance away; another glimpse of my son, and I’d break down.

“Let’s go,” Aunty said, walking up. “We got lucky. His wife just left with a shopping basket.”

I was relieved. Much as I hated to acknowledge this, the wife was probably an innocent bystander about to be caught in the crossfire. If Srikar and I decided to be a family again, what would his wife’s status be? Venkat, back in the village, had lived in the same house with both his wives. Forget the bigamy aspect of it, I’d rather swathe myself in honey and tumble into an anthill than lower myself to that level.

Raising my hand to knock, I had a sudden attack of nerves. What if my husband didn’t want me back? What if my son hated me for disrupting his world? “By going in, we’ll be destroying an innocent woman’s life.” I wiped damp palms against my sides.

“By not going in, we’ll be destroying your own,” Aunty said recognizing my fear for what it was. “You’ll never get to meet your son.”

“And you’ll never get to meet yours,” I said softly.

“There is that,” Aunty allowed, nodding her head at the truth of it. “This is bad business, Pullamma. There can be no winners here. Someone or the other is going to get hurt for no fault of their own.”

“What if Srikar wishes we’d never found him? What if my son hates me?”

“Stop making excuses.”

My eyes chanced upon an abandoned plastic tricycle. My son’s! I took a deep breath. There was no going back now. “Okay. Let’s do it.” I knocked and waited tensely.
 

The door opened.

Srikar!

I swayed toward him, heart full.

“Who are you looking for?” Srikar asked, a polite smile on his face.

I felt like he’d stabbed me in the heart.

Foolish me, to believe the connection between us was so strong he’d recognize me, no matter what. I realized I was being illogical, but the hurt was too great – come nightfall, he’d get into bed with another woman. “It isn’t enough that you raise my son, it isn’t enough that you remarry when I’m still alive? Now you question my identity?”

“Pullamma?”

“No, your grandmother.” I couldn’t believe he’d not recognized me, that he’d made a life without me. I pushed past him and leaned against the wall, trembling with emotion.

“
Yedukondalavada
! It that really you?” He looked disbelieving.

“How could you have married someone else?” I said, breaking down. “How?”

“Pullamma –”

“What is it, tell me.” I grabbed his shoulders, shaking him, crying, broken up that he no longer belonged to me. “Did you have so little faith in me that you married someone else?”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what?” I forced myself to take deep breaths; getting hysterical wasn’t going to help the situation.

“Our son needed a mother, and you were not to be found…”

My heart started to beat painfully. “How did he get to you?”

“You don’t know?” He looked confused.

“For many years I didn’t even know we had a son. I thought I’d given birth to a stillborn girl. That’s what Kondal Rao had them tell me.”

“Oh my God!”

We looked at each other a long time, this man, my husband, who was not my husband. He was the only reason I kept going when I thought I’d die from the pain. He and our child.

“How…” I swallowed past the painful constriction in my throat. “How did our baby get to you?”

“I stormed my grandfather’s office, threatening to call the media and expose his misdeeds if he didn’t tell me where you were. He promised to bring you to our flat that evening. Instead of you, an ambulance showed up and transported me to the mental hospital.”

 
I closed my eyes, trying to take it all in. Opening my eyes, I said, “And this man is your grandfather?”

He shrugged.

“How did our son get to you?” I asked again.

“I was close to breakdown, getting too unpredictable for my grandfather, making a nuisance of myself by begging the staff to track you down. He came to the mental hospital one day. I’d been there many days by then, I don’t know how long. He told me I had a son.” He looked at me, tears flowing. “You can’t imagine my joy, Pullamma. All those days of intense agony, and then to hear this –”

I smiled at him, my heart breaking for what he’d been through.

“He’d give me my child, he said, but I had to give up my search for you.”

I drew in a sharp breath.

Srikar looked at me in anguish. “I fought long and hard, Pullamma. You
know
I’d never have given you up willingly.” He looked at me pleadingly.

I nodded, unable to speak past the tears.

“I demanded proof that the child was mine. He laughed and said he didn’t particularly care if I didn’t believe him. He’d be happy to give the child away. I couldn’t take that risk,
Pulla
–” He choked. Taking a moment to compose himself, he said, “I said it was either both of you, or nothing. He said if I didn’t take his offer, he had the resources to lock me away indefinitely. He’d give the child away for adoption because he could never let you loose, it was too dangerous for him. He warned that after I took my son, if I resumed my search for you, he –” He swallowed hard. “He’d have you
and
our child killed. I made a bargain with the Devil,
Pulla
.”

I leaned forward, my hand hovering uncertainly. I’d lost the right to touch him when he married someone else. Then I touched his cheek gently. “You did what you had to do,” I said, even as my heart was breaking. “I’m glad our son had the love of one parent.”

Pressing his hand against mine, he let his tears flow.

><

“You remarried.”

He looked up sharply. “You’ve met her?”

I shook my head. “Why?” My voice was hoarse. “Why did you remarry?”

“It wasn’t a wife I was looking for, Pullamma. I needed a mother for our son. My grandfather wouldn’t allow my grandmother, or yours, to help. And I had to get to my job, in order to support our child.”

I doubled over from the sharp agony.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry.”

I leaned forward, covering my eyes with my hand. Tears dripped.
I should have been the one taking care of our baby. I should have been the one being a wife to my husband.
“Is there a chance for us? For the three of us to be a family?” I wiped ineffectually.
God, let him say he wants me back.

“I can’t see how,” he whispered. He looked devastated.

“Don’t you care for me anymore?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“How can you even say that? In fact –”

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “One of the big issues with my wife has been that I’ve not been able to get over you.”

 
I closed my eyes. So many tears shed over my husband and child; how was it that I had so many more left?

“I… uh… I still love you.”

My eyes shot open.

He flushed.

I felt a rush of tenderness for this man. I knew how hard it was for him to say this out loud
. Ammamma always said, this I-love-you business was not worthy of our conservative culture. Of course husbands and wives loved one another. But who went about declaring such things?

“Where do we go from here?” I asked.

He looked troubled. “I remarried in good faith,
Pulla
. I was convinced my grandfather had you killed, despite what he told me. I could see no other way you’d let our child go.”

More tears joined the ones wetting my sari. “Your grandfather kidnapped me and dumped me in a home for destitute women.”

Srikar looked shocked.

“Geeta came across us as we were leaving. Your grandfather assaulted her and threatened her with dire consequences if she ever told anyone what she’d seen.”

Srikar’s face lost colour. “Unbelievable that I’m related to that man!”

“In the Home, they did a forcible caesarean on me to take the baby out. They took away my child, telling me I’d given birth to a stillborn girl.” I broke down. “For many years I didn’t even know I had a child that lived. And, from the time I found out, I’ve been searching for him.”

Srikar pulled me in his arms, holding me as I wept.

><

“What now?” I said.

He sighed.

“Can the three of us ever be together?”

“I don’t know how to make it up to you. I can’t see how to make it work.”

A tiny sound of distress escaped my lips.

“It’s not what you think,
Pulla
.”

My heart crimped at the endearment.

“I married a woman whose first husband threw her out of the house because they couldn’t have children.”

“You... you don’t have other children?”

“No.”

Thank you, God!

“How can I, in good conscience, abandon her?” His eyes begged for understanding. “What would her life be like, her status in society, after being abandoned by two husbands?”

“What about me?” I hated that this sounded like pleading.