Free The Best Day of My Life by Deborah Ellis Page B

early.
    â€˜Why did he cover his face?’
    â€˜He didn’t want anyone to look at him after he was dead.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    I was getting bored with the conversation and bored with Bharati.
    â€˜Because if you look at a dead man’s face, his ghost enters your body. Don’t you know anything?’ I liked to make things up as I went along. Sometimes I didn’t know what was going to come out of my mouth until I said it. It kept me entertained.
    I reached into my pocket and took out the little bottle of pink fingernail polish I had borrowed from some lady’s handbag while I was hitching a ride on a train, begging from passengers. I was aiming for her coin purse, but the train gave a lurch right at that moment and I had to grab what I could.
    I headed over to the dead man.
    I knew he wasn’t really dead.
    It was Mr Vishwas, and he slept up on the ticket counter every night. During the day he worked at his brother’s shirt stand in the market. He had been staying at his brother’s house, but his brother’s wife didn’t like him. I heard all about it. He shared his story with anyone who stood still for more than a moment.
    I felt sorry for his brother’s wife. Mr Vishwas was always in a bad mood. Always.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ Bharati said. She grabbed my arm to hold me back.
    I shook her off. I was tired of playing nanny. This would get rid of her.
    I hopped up on the ticket counter at the foot end of Mr Vishwas. The blanket covering his face and body didn’t quite reach his toes.
    I gave the nail-polish bottle a good shake, unscrewed the brush and started to paint his toes.
    It didn’t take long. It might have, if I had been careful to stay on the nails and not paint his toes as well, but I was more concerned with being fast.
    Job done, I waited a moment so that the polish would dry, then rejoined Bharati.
    â€˜Now you have to break the spell,’ I whispered to her.
    â€˜The spell?’
    â€˜You have to. You were the one to find him. It’s you his spirit will come after unless you break the spell. But if you want him to come and get you while you’re sleeping …’
    â€˜What do I have to do?’
    â€˜It’s very simple. Turn around three times, then face him, clap three times very loud and fast and shout, ‘Kaaa!’ Can you do that?’
    She nodded.
    This was going to be fun.
    â€˜Go ahead,’ I said. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’
    I helped her spin three times and turned her so she was facing Mr Vishwas. Then I ran and hid behind a post.
    She clapped three times and yelled, ‘Kaaa!’ at the top of her lungs.
    Mr Vishwas jumped up so fast he fell off the counter.
    Bharati screamed and ran into another part of the train station.
    Mr Vishwas picked himself up off the floor, too stunned to be able to chase after her. Then he noticed his bright pink toes.
    I laughed and laughed.
    But it was a laugh without any joy behind it. Laughing like that made me feel meaner.
    Mr Vishwas came storming after me. He was angry, but I was fast, and I jumped over the gates and ran to the tracks.
    I knew he would not follow me. He was too old to jump gates.
    I kept laughing as I ran, until I ran smack into Bharati’s brother. He was surrounded by the boy-pack. A dozen skinny boys stood near him trying to look tough, their arms folded over their thin chests and torn clothes. Bharati was clutching her brother around the waist and still crying.
    â€˜You made my sister cry,’ he said.
    â€˜Your sister cries easily,’ I told him. I wanted to hurt him. ‘So do you.’
    â€˜I do not.’
    â€˜I heard you the other night. ‘Where’s my mama! I want my mama!’ For a while, I thought your sister had a sister instead of a brother.’ I looked around at the boy-pack. ‘Did you boys know you were hanging out with a crybaby?’
    Grown men hate it when girls laugh at