Free Soul to Take by Helen Bateman

to lose a grain and by the time I returned home, the starchy substance had formed two flat circles. Maataa said Aadi was lying down inside so I went in to see him. His eyes were shut although I could tell he was not asleep. So I called his name and he mustered the energy to smile at me. I sat him up and fed him the rice balls. That night he ate with less ferocity, which was lucky as our chapattis were increasingly smaller in size.
    I continued this offering every afternoon. Aadi got better and started to play outside with the rest of us again. Pitaa said it was a miracle and that Lakshmi was looking down on us. Aadi, of course, started to look for his afternoon treat and began to run down the street to meet me and my rice parcels every day.
    As Aadi got healthier, I began to feel weaker. I longed for my chapati all day but it was no longer enough and my stomach began to swell more than ever. When I got dressed in the morning, I noticed that my hair was thinning and my skin was lightening a shade. When at last I had no energy to walk, I had to stop going to school.
    My memories are few after that time. Breathing was difficult and I have an image of Maataa sitting by my bedside, mopping my brow, telling me I had picked up a virus. She also told me that it was all going to be okay as Pitaa was going up to Delhi to work on the rickshaws and this would buy all the wheat flour we would need. But I knew it was too late for me.
    At least Pitaa’s boy was saved, I kept thinking. He might go on to have the opportunities that really, were just a fantasy for us girls. Or maybe he won’t. I don’t know what became of the rest of my family and whether they improved their lot. But I do know that my death, like my life, was happy, secure in the knowledge that I had tried to become closer to Brahman and that in doing do, my soul may be one step further towards freedom.
     
     
     

 
    VICKY
     
    “So, never mind that, are we going to discuss wedding plans or what?” Eliza asks me.
    How can I begin to tell her what has happened? Last she knew, we were drinking champagne, celebrating my brave proposal last night.
    “Come on, I didn’t come round to talk about your summer fair - no offence - but Dan’ll be back from the pub at this rate and I’d much rather have your take on it all. Get this bottle opened before it gets warm.”
    “I’ve got something to tell you, first,” I pause mid-wine pouring. But which version? The official ‘Dan’ version or the truth? Who am I kidding? It’s Eliza; she’ll be able to tell if I’m lying. Besides, it would be good to be straight with someone after the day I’ve had.
    “Ooh, come on then,” Eliza clearly hasn’t picked up on my serious tone.
    Here goes. “I’ve done something really bad, Eliza,” I had realised how upset I would get vocalising my actions.
    “Hey, honey,” her sympathetic arm around my shoulders is making me feel ten times worse. “Nothing can be that bad. Don’t let it ruin your special weekend.”
    “That’s just it. It’s already ruined. Dan didn’t really want to marry me after all.” There. I’ve done the hard bit.
    “What? I passed him as I came in just a few minutes ago and he seemed just as delighted as he was last night.” Poor Eliza looks as confused as I feel.
    “Well, that’s not how it’s been all afternoon.”
    “You’d better start at the beginning,” I’m glad Eliza’s taken over the wine pouring; I’m shaking like a leaf and would spill it everywhere.
    “This morning I got up early and made Dan a fry-up. I thought it would be a special kind of day, you know? I thought we’d have breakfast then go back to bed and spend the rest of the day talking about getting married. How stupid was I?”
    “Don’t say that.”
    “Well anyway, he came down and just looked at his breakfast. He said he didn’t want it and that’s when I knew something was wrong; Dan loves fried food. Even more out of character, he asked if we could talk. I