got the powder formula from the cupboard. She smiled at Ach and Nitya. “Wait for me in our room, I’ll be in after I feed Shanti.”
She prepared Shanti’s bottle and brought it to Kalindi’s room. Shanti sucked it down fast. Rasa burped her, then changed her. Baby Shanti started in on some cute babbling. Rasa giggled. She kissed her sister’s little nose.
She carried Shanti to their bedroom. She sat cross-legged on the floor and propped Shanti on her lap. She motioned for Ach and Nitya to scoot to either side of her.
“Give me one of your books, Ach,” Rasa said.
Ach examined the spines and selected one. He handed it to Rasa. She flipped it open and started reading aloud. Her siblings were fast asleep by the time Rasa got to page six, their heads on either of her knees. She laid Shanti on the floor in front of her and then wriggled out from her under her siblings’ heads. She carried Ach first, then Nitya, to the bed they all shared.
As was her custom, Rasa confirmed that their little chests were rising and falling before she let herself do her own thing. Satisfied they were okay, she laid down next to Shanti. She picked up one of the books she’d borrowed—How to Free-Dive.
Shanti squealed, waving her arms and kicking her feet.
Rasa caressed her baby sister’s arm and turned to page one.
A purple-and-white taffeta dress hung on the door to Jaya’s bathroom. She hated it! Despite her mother’s demand that she wear it to their formal housewarming party that evening, she was not about to let it touch her body. She’d find a way out. Maybe some spilled fruit punch? Jaya giggled to herself at the thought.
She shifted her eyes from the dress to the wall mirror. She studied the reflection of her naked nine-year-old body.
Chestnut brown skin. Wide brown eyes. Coarse, shoulder-length black hair. Gujarati Indian girl. Gujarati Indian girl? Why not a Gujarati Indian boy?
Back when they lived in Niu Valley, Jaya always wore clothes selected by her mother, even though Jaya thought those dresses, skirts, blouses, and Indian outfits her mother preferred were too girly, too dainty.
But Jaya wanted to please her mother.
The move to the Kahala mansion changed everything abruptly. Jaya and her parents spent much less time together. In Niu Valley, Sanjay was home every evening. These days, he rarely came home at night. And Jayshree seemed fixed on her husband and his whereabouts. Her attention to her daughter waned. As for Jaya, she didn’t feel like she had to do what her mother wanted so much anymore.
She studied the gaudy dress. It reminded her of a straight jacket.
I’m not wearing it!
Her mother—and everyone for that matter—wanted Jaya to be so very feminine. It was too much, she didn’t want to be like that.
I don’t want to wear that dress!
Jaya shook her head.
Why can’t I wear a button-down shirt and long pants to the party? Because it makes me look like a boy? Well, guess what, people? Maybe I am!
Jaya tugged on her hair, then her skin. Her belly. Her cheeks. Her flesh stretched a bit but didn’t come off. She pounded her fists onto her breast buds and started crying.
She turned on the shower. When it was warm enough, she stepped into the tub. She let the rush of water comfort her for a few minutes. The tears stopped. She started to wash her hair.
Maybe I am a boy.
She squeezed her eyes tight to rinse out the shampoo. She pictured two children who resembled her. One was dressed in a polo shirt and chino shorts, his hair short and spiky. So cool. The other had on the purple-and-white dress. Her hair was in two braids down her back. They were standing in front of a door. Jaya the boy hugged Jaya the girl and wished her well. She stepped into the doorway, turned, and waved. Then she closed the door behind her and disappeared.
Jaya reached for the bar of soap and lathered up.
A big smile spread across her face.
Her face? No, his face. Yes, now it was his face.
Soon after Shanti turned three, Kalindi began to go AWOL more and more. Often without leaving her four children money.
Rasa tried to make ends meet. She borrowed. Accepted handouts. Earned. But as soon as employers found out she was only twelve, they let her go. Not that a minimum wage job would cut it anyway.
Weeks went by. Whatever food she got, she gave to her siblings first. There was usually very little left for her. Rasa’s dresses began to look more like ponchos as she got thinner and thinner.
She’d drag herself through days and lay awake at night. Staring into the darkness, she knew something had to give. But what?
Rasa couldn’t figure it out.
So she and her siblings spent more of their waking hours on the beach. Anything to forget their rumbling tummies and hankering for Kalindi. It was late in the afternoon one such day of sweltering sun, shore, and sea when they staggered back into their shack. Rasa tucked her siblings in, then lay down next to Shanti. She shut her eyes, visualizing her short free-dive. Short because her run-down body couldn’t hold its breath more than twenty seconds these days. Still, she’d been suspended in the quiet of the thick turquoise water…
She drifted off. A minute later the loud bark of their neighbor’s dog startled her awake. She shot up, practically panting. She got her bearings, then glanced at her siblings. They were still asleep.
Wide awake, she rolled off the bed. She sank to the floor and stretched out prone. She examined the covers of the six library books she and her siblings had borrowed yesterday. The close-up of a shiny black spider captured her attention. As did its title—Dangerous Arachnids.
She turned to the first chapter on black widows. There was a photo of a female black widow spider eating its mate. Its thick, black legs angled and hovered over a light brown mass of crumpled legs. Her eyes shifted to the paragraph below. She read about the defining red hourglass shape on the abdomen of females, their power over males, and how they sometimes killed and ate the males.
Rasa stared at the eerie yet awe-inspiring female predator. Ach’s nasal breathing became a lullabye. Her mind slowed. The book slipped out of her hands as her eyelids drifted down. Her head drooped onto the floor. She fell into a dream.
A woman with long brown curls took Paul’s hand. She led the way and they glided through a shadowy passageway. Her head turned back in slow motion. The light from the dagger-shaped red candle in her hand illuminated her face. Kalindi. The black walls ebbed and flowed like the tide and then turned into dense strands of white silk. Suddenly Kalindi and the floor vanished. Paul fell into a dark void. The wind swooshed by making his blond hair stand straight up. Below,
