“Yes, Suraj. Let me put it outside to cool and then you can have some. I made it especially for you and your sister. I have been very bad tempered lately due to my ill health. I thought I would make it up to both of you,” she said, smiling.
She looked like a jackal grinning at the sight of a meal. Tara shivered. Why was Kali doing this?
“Come sit by me, Suraj. Tell me what you did today,” said Kali, still using that sugary-sweet voice.
Tara walked out to the backyard to complete her chores. Unease churned inside her stomach. As she cleaned the yard and sprinkled water to settle the dust, the village stray dog, Moti, wandered in. He looked starved as usual. Engrossed in her thoughts, Tara did not pay any attention to him as he roamed their backyard sniffing at various things and occasionally urinating. In the kitchen, Suraj still chattered away about their morning.
A shrill voice piped in, “Mother I want some kheer. I’m hungry.”
“No, Layla. This is only for Suraj and Tara.”
Tara stiffened in surprise. Layla refused food on their account? Something was very, very wrong. She stood in the courtyard chewing her lower lip. Something was going to happen! But what?
In the meantime, Moti had circled the courtyard and stopped outside the kitchen door where the fragrance of the cooling kheer on the back step beckoned to him. He looked around furtively and, seeing no obstacle to a free meal, he put his face into the vessel and lapped up the kheer.
The instant Tara took a step forward to drive him away, an image of Lord Yama astride his bull exploded in her mind. She stood paralyzed. What did it mean? Her mind went round in circles. She stood still and watched as Moti lapped up the kheer with great haste. Within minutes it was gone and Moti slunk off.
Tara continued sweeping and the image faded away, like a strong wind through wisps of smoke. Scared and extremely puzzled, she tried to sort out the thoughts in her mind. Why did she see that image?
“Hai Ram! Who ate the kheer?” shrieked Kali.
Tara snapped out of her reverie. She looked up and saw Kali at the back door, hands on her waist, her face like a thundercloud. Kali narrowed her eyes and her huge bosom heaved.
“Tara, did you eat it?” she yelled.
Tara put down her broom and walked toward Kali.
“No, Mother,” she said with a straight face. “I was sweeping the yard.”
“LAYLA,” Kali screeched. “Come here.”
This should be fun, thought Tara. It was not often their stepsister was yelled at.
“Yes, Mother,” said Layla as she came running from the front room where she had been playing with her dolls. One was still tucked under her arm.
“Did you eat the kheer when I told you not to? I had left it out here on the back step to cool and now it’s gone.”
“No, Mother.”
A giggle escaped her, which seemed to infuriate Kali. She shook Layla hard.
“Are you sure you didn’t eat any?” she demanded.
Layla shook her head and Kali exhaled noisily.
Suraj stood cowering behind Tara. He had been with Kali all the while and was spared her wrath.
“Mother, why are you so angry? I am sure we can make some more kheer. What was so special about it anyway?” asked Tara, observing Kali very closely.
Kali turned pale and sweat stood out on her forehead. She dabbed it in quick, jerky movements with a trembling hand. Large patches appeared at her armpits and rapidly spread on her blouse, giving off an acrid smell.
“You STUPID girl! It took a lot of time to make. I thought you ungrateful children would appreciate the effort. Instead, the kheer has disappeared and no one knows who ate it. Hai Ram ... what liars I am surrounded with.”
Kali glared at the three children as they looked up at her innocently and slightly puzzled.
Suddenly, a loud and agonized howl rent the air. Kali clapped her hand to her mouth, eyes darting right and left. Tara, Suraj, and Layla looked at her and then all of them turned and raced in the direction of the howl.
Moti lay at the edge of their yard, thrashing his head and uttering the most heartrending howls of agony. Green froth drooled from his mouth, gathering in a pool in the dust, and his body jerked in spasms. Within seconds his yelps and howls became weaker as he succumbed to the intense pain that racked his thin body. Finally, his head lolled and he lay still. They all rushed closer. Even in the fading light of the evening it was unmistakable. Mixed in that green vomit were undigested grains of rice.
Tara looked up in horror.
CHAPTER 4 DIVINE HELP
“Why are you looking at me like that?” screamed Kali, her face the colour of soured milk.
“Moti ate the kheer and died. This kheer was made especially for us,” screamed Tara. To kill us, completed the small voice inside her.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” stammered Kali. “You’re talking nonsense! This rabid dog must have eaten some rotten food and died. It had nothing to do with the kheer. Anyway, who says he ate the kheer I made?”
“I saw him,” said Tara, staring at Kali.
The venom in Kali’s eyes shocked her. Tara gathered a bewildered Suraj to her and walked off.
“I’m going to tell Father about this,” Tara called over her shoulder, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
Kali strode behind Tara. She grabbed hold of Tara’s plait and jerked her around till she was face to face with her. Black eyes bored into soft brown ones.
“You will do nothing of the sort,” Kali hissed. “One word from you and I’ll make both your lives more miserable than they already are. Remember that.”
Tara looked deep into those pitiless eyes and believed her. Kali released Tara, went back into the hut, and slammed the door shut.
I’ll pay you back one day, thought Tara, rubbing her aching scalp. My day will come.
That night, as she lay tossing and turning on the thin mattress, Tara’s thoughts were very troubled. This was a very close call and there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that this attempt on their life was not the last. Nor the first, the small voice piped in. She shivered and gathered Suraj closer to her.
“Didi, why does Mother hate us so much? What have we done wrong?” he whispered in her ear.
Tara heard the deep fear and hurt in his voice.
“I don’t know, Suraj.”
There was no point in lying. The more aware they were of danger, the greater their chances of survival.
“I
