ArHi FF: Highway to hell-2, chapter 38, pg 141 - Page 82

Malli stepped out of Khushi's home, Sheila clutching her hand. Nita had come home from the hospital yesterday after Chemo and they were going back to their regular routine from today. Khushi had taken the day off to stay with Nita at home. She had come through the chemo and its accompanying nausea and vomiting like a trooper. What's more, she had taken to Malli's presence in the hospital like a duck to water. She hadn't fussed at all. And Malli, to her credit had done a stellar job. She was careful, attentive, loving and patient. The dichotomy was stark. With children she was a different person. She laughed. She talked. She played games with them. She literally came alive with them. With everyone else she was polite, but quiet. She didn't speak unless spoken to. She did smile at Arnav though. Every once in a way, when they'd meet in the kitchen, or at the hospital, she'd nod and give him a tiny smile. He hadn't tried since that evening to ask her again why she was living at the station. He'd resolved to wait until Nita came home from the hospital. He thought that would give Malli time to settle down, and maybe open up a little as well.

Malli dropped Sheila off at school and headed back home. She grimaced as she realized she'd started thinking of Khushi's house as "home." She decided not to think about her problems and enjoy the 10 days she had left in that house. She would figure it out soon enough. For now, the feeling of the warm sun on her back and the promise of a roof over her head tonight felt good. "It's good to get out after so long," she thought. She'd spent the last 10 days cooped up either in the hospital or at home with Sheila. This was good. She'd missed this. Her daily walk to drop Sheila at School. She was almost happy, she realized. In fact, she was happy. She had a steady job. She kept busy all day. She had enough food to eat and a room to herself. Not to mention the perks of daily bathing. She'd even washed her hair twice in the last 10 days. That had felt heavenly, she mused. The smell of shampoo and conditioner. How light and soft her hair had felt after she'd washed it. She shook her head slightly and smiled broadly, as she walked.

30 minutes later she was lying bleeding in an alley. She put a hand up to her head and felt a bump forming. He'd pulled her jacket off, and it lay to her side. He'd torn her bandeau top, ripped it in half, so she couldn't wear it anymore. It was in shreds. She sobbed quietly, as she reached for her jacket and pulled it around her bare torso best as she could. Her micromini was pushed up almost to her waist. She pulled it down, wincing as she felt her sore inner thighs. She looked at them as she adjusted her skirt. She saw the ugly purple bruises forming on both thighs and wondered if she could walk. Her legs seemed numb, she thought. Her left arm throbbed like crazy. She couldn't move it without wincing. She tried to stand up, but couldn't. She gave up and lay back down on the floor. She picked up the cell phone Arnav had given her with shaking hands and dialed his number.

He found her there, unconscious. He had dialed the ambulance before he left, and they got there at the same time he did. It was a blur after that. She was in the ER. Doctors came and went. Arnav was there. After a while, Khushi was there. She had 2 fractured ribs, a fractured left Radius and concussion. Fortunately, there were no internal injuries, and while there was evidence of sexual assault, she hadn't been raped. She drifted in and out of consciousness for the next 48 hours. When she woke, Khushi was sitting by her bedside. She saw Malli and looked up from her book.

"Malli! How do you feel? We've been so worried," said Khushi.

"Hand hurts," said Malli, "Head hurts too. Can I get some water?" she asked groggily. Khushi gave her some water and she sipped it slowly. She lay back as if that small act had exhausted her.

"I'm sorry," she said flatly.

"Sorry! What for?" asked Khushi, surprised.

"I'm sorry you had to get dragged into my mess," said Malli, tears trickling down from the corners of her eyes.

"Oh Malli! I'm so sorry you had to go through this," said Khushi laying a hand on Malli's. Malli simply looked away, more hot tears coursing down her face.

"Let me call Arnav. He'll be relieved to know you've regained consciousness. He's been feeling so guilty," said Khushi, reaching for her cell phone. Malli said nothing. Khushi didn't try to pry into what had happened. The social worker and the police would be along soon enough for all that. She simply wanted to put Malli at ease for now. Arnav came 20 minutes later. He'd rushed to the hospital the moment Khushi had called. Khushi sat with Arnav in Malli's room for about 10 minutes. She sensed that Malli might open up to Arnav more than her. They seemed to have some kind of bond, even though Malli hadn't said a word to him except Hello since he'd come. So she tactfully left them alone and went home. Arnav would tell her all about it, she mused.

"Malli, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me there was someone following you? I would have never let you go by yourself," said Arnav, in a tortured voice.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, I put Sheila in jeopardy too. I just didn't want anyone to know," she said, more tears running down her cheeks. "Have they caught him?" she asked.

"Not yet. They're still looking. It will help when you give the police a statement. They have nothing but a few passers by's accounts to work with for now,"

"Need I talk to the police?" she sighed.

"Yes. We need to find the bas***d and put him away. For that, you need to speak with the Police Malli."

She sighed and turned her face away from his. "Do you know what Malena means?" she asked. He nodded in the negative. "Malena means darkness," she smiled sadly as she spoke.

"Malli! No," he held her hand tightly in his. She turned her face towards him to see his ashen face and bloodshot eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. She didn't pull her hand away from his. Instead, she squeezed his hand. "Gotta cigarette?" she quipped.

"No. And don't try and act smart with me," he said, "What happened that day Malli?"

"I have to speak to the police. I don't have to talk with you," she said stubbornly.

"Fair enough. I'll let the police know you're well enough to give them a statement today," he said. She didn't respond.

"They'll find me and take me back. I'll have to go back. You don't understand! You don't understand what they'll do to me!" she said finally, after a long silence.

"Who? Who will find you Malli? And nobody is taking you anywhere. Not if you don't want to go. I won't allow it."

"My aunt and uncle. They'll take me back to their home. I'm not an adult yet. There's still 7 months to my 18^th birthday. I need them to not find me until I turn 18. After that, I'm free to do as I please," she said quietly.

"Malli, listen to me. Khushi and I will protect you. We have discussed it. You can stay with us as long as you choose. And your aunt and uncle certainly cannot force you to go with them. I promise you that. Just tell the police the truth. Don't tell me if you don't want to. But please tell them the truth. Let us help you. We can help you Malli."

"I'm tired," she said abruptly. "I think I want to rest," she closed her eyes. Arnav shook his head. "Stubborn fool," he thought. She wasn't really sleepy, he knew. Just plain contrary. He sat down on the chair in the sterile hospital room and watched her fall asleep after the nurse gave her some medicine for the pain that she complained of. He closed his eyes and relived the moment he'd found her, lying in that alley. Her hand at a crazy angle next to her head. Blood trickling down her leg from a gash on her thigh. Her breathing irregular, pulse weak. She'd opened her eyes once in the ambulance. She'd seen him looking at her, concern writ large on his face. "Thanks for coming," she'd whispered before drifting back into that twilight world which was so pleasant. So far removed from reality. Where the pain vanished and only a pleasant ache remained.

When she woke 2 hours later he was gone. For a moment, she panicked, thinking she was alone again. She rang the bell for the nurse who told her he'd gone to get some lunch at the cafeteria. When he came back up, she was sitting up, propped up by several pillows. The nurse had combed her hair, so she looked slightly presentable. She looked like the 17 year old she was, with her hair in a simple ponytail, face scrubbed clean of make-up, and wearing the hospital gown as opposed to her usual costume. "Feeling better?" he asked. She nodded affirmatively.

"Police will be here in 10 minutes Malli." He said, in a tone that would not brook argument.

"OK." She replied. "Did you mean it?" she asked. "Will you really help me?"

"Absolutely. I give you my word."

"OK. I will tell them the truth. But don't run out on me later, OK? I am putting my trust in you."

"Thanks for trusting me Malli. I won't let you down, promise. Now how about some soup before the police get here. The nurse left this for you 15 minutes ago, but you were sleeping," he pointed to a tray at her bedside.

"OK," she replied. He moved the tray along with the stand, in front her. He opened the soup up for her and handed her a spoon. She ate it gingerly, as if swallowing hurt. She finished it, though she did make a face when she found out it was pumpkin soup. He didn't attempt to help her, even though she was a little sloppy and spilt a little on herself as she ate. He knew she would reject his help anyway. And he didn't want to do anything to disturb the fragile bond he was building with her. The police came soon after. There were 2 officers, one of them female. Arnav got up to leave after the initial introductions.

"Stay," said Malli.

"What?" he asked surprised.

"Stay. I want you to hear it too," she said. He sat back down on his chair, surprised. She began to speak.

Arnav ran up the stairs to Khushi's room. She was sitting on the bed, reading.

"You're back! Did she speak to the Police?" asked Khushi. Arnav said nothing. He sat down on the bed and pulled his socks off. "Arnav, what happened?" asked Khushi, now worried. She tapped his shoulder lightly. He turned and buried his face in her lap.

"Arnav? Arnav? Are you OK?" she asked, worriedly. He threw his arms around her waist and sobbed into her lap. She held him there for several minutes. When he finally pulled away, she let him, but not before she kissed him. It was not a passionate kiss. More a loving, comforting kiss. When they drew apart, he smiled a watery smile at her. "Sorry about that," he said. She smiled sweetly in response, saying nothing. Then he began to speak. He told her the whole of Malli's horrific story. After he was done, he pulled her close and they sat there, side by side, hand in hand, silently for several minutes. Then he reached for his iPad on the nightstand.

"Malli's actual name is Malena. She told me this was her favorite song. I thought we should listen to it together. I don't think I can face any more of this alone," he said, turning the iPad on.

"Sure," said Khushi, wiping her tears. He played the song. It was an old Tango by Lucio Demare with lyrics by Homer Manzi.

Malena Tango

Malena sings the tango like no one else
and into each verse she pours her heart.
Her voice is perfumed with the weeds of the slum.
Malena feels the pain of the bandonen.
Perhaps there, in her childhood, her lark's voice
filled with that dark tone of the back alley;
or maybe that romance is only mentioned
when she becomes sad with alcohol . . .
Malena sings the tango with a shadowed voice;
Malena feels the pain of the bandonen.

Your song
has the coldness of a last encounter.
Your song
is bitter with a salty memory.
I don't know
if your voice is the bloom of sorrow;
I only know
that in the murmur of your tangos, Malena,
I feel you are better,
much better than I.

Your eyes are dark like forgetfulness;
your lips, pressed tight with rancor;
your hands, two doves that suffer the cold:
your veins have the blood of the bandonen . . .
Your tangos are abandoned creatures
that cross over the mud of a back alley
when all the doors are closed
and the ghosts of the song howl.
Malena sings the tango with a broken voice;
Malena feels the pain of the bandonen.

Khushi wiped Arnav's tears, and he mopped up hers when they were done listening to the song.

"That was her past. It's not going to be her future," said Khushi smiling wanly at Arnav.

"No. No it's not. We won't let it be," said Arnav.

If you want to listen to this hauntingly, phenomenally beautiful song, go here. You can also find the original lyrics in Spanish there. I listened to it about 20 times on repeat while writing this. Next chapter: Malena's story.

Cheers!
Vidhya

And I'll say it again...u write really well Vidhya!!!!