The Narrow Road to Palem Read Online Free

angelic smile go? What had happened to the meek, submissive old woman?
    ‘Come tomorrow,’ said Yenki. Somebody had told her long back that if you said that to ghosts, they would leave. She hoped that she struck the required balance of docility and firmness. ‘Come tomorrow and I will give you all that you ask for.’
    Malli carried on, as if Yenki had not spoken. ‘I saw Lachi and Sanga meet at Ellamma cheruvu last night. They went for a swim together in the moonlight. Muddy water, but when you’re young and in love, why would you care. Right?’
    ‘Go away,’ said Yenki. ‘I am not talking to you.’ She went into the kitchen, bolting the door behind her. She hurried to the back door and closed it as well. But on turning around, she saw Malli seated next to the stove.
    ‘You took my Ranga away from me, didn’t you, Yenki?’
    Yenki said, ‘It was you who asked him to marry me. It was you who wanted a child.’
    ‘And you gave me a child. But you took my husband away from me. Did he have eyes for anyone but you after that first night? What spell have you cast on him, Yenki, hmm? What is it that you did to him that I could not do in all those years?’
    Yenki saw a well. Green, fungus-filled water. Malli’s hand rising above the surface, even as the rest of her body was immersed. Once every two seconds or so she would emerge from within, fix her with her bloodshot eyes, and mouth something like ‘help’ before the water would claim her again. And once again her hand would be sticking out, fingers outstretched.
    As life left her, little by little, the fingers began to claw at the air, and her limbs flapped harder. Her arms and legs flailed and writhed, and each time she came up for breath, she only succeeded in drawing more water into her lungs. Yenki had stood on the edge of the well, watching, until Malli’s hand disappeared.
    ‘You could have thrown me the rope,’ said Malli. This was the old Malli. Her eyes burned with kindness.
    ‘I – I was in shock,’ said Yenki. ‘I could not think.’
    Malli laughed with her head thrown back, and two chrysanthemums from her hair fell to the ground. It was a loud, open laugh, much like how Yenki herself laughed. Malli used to cover her mouth with her hand when she had to laugh at something. Her ghost clearly did not bother with such niceties.
    ‘Why are you laughing?’ asked Yenki.
    Malli did not respond, nor did she stop. Her laughter screeched against the mud walls, filled the air, and crawled under Yenki’s skin. She slapped her hands against her ears to shut out the sound, but found that it only became louder.
    ‘Why are you laughing?’ she called out amid the din. ‘Go away! Leave us alone in peace.’
    Malli kept laughing. Yenki backed away into the corner, and crumpled to the floor. The smell of rats hit her nose, and she found it comforting, though in her mind’s eye she kept seeing – again and again – Malli’s outstretched fingers clawing at the air, and her bloodshot eyes pleading for help. She curled up into a ball and said, ‘Come tomorrow, come tomorrow, come tomorrow...’
     
    * * *
     
    ‘This fish curry is horrible.’
    ‘You must not say things like that, Satish.’
    Yenki stirred the soup with a ladle, saying ‘come tomorrow’ to herself.
    ‘This tastes nothing like what Peddamma used to make.’
    ‘Peddamma is not coming back, Satish.’
    Yenki stirred, and looked up at the sewing machine.
    ‘I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.’
    ‘Now, if you don’t eat your dinner quietly, I won’t give you your five star.’
    Yenki looked at the empty armchair. Come tomorrow .
    ‘I want Peddamma, that’s it.’
    ‘Peddamma is not coming back. I told you that already.’
    Something snapped within Yenki. She had felt all day like someone had been winding her up, like a toy, and now they had let her go. She felt energy course through her arms. Her fingers twitched. She looked at her son, who was still saying something about