The Poison and its Antidote - Part 3: A story on Memory and Guilt | Thursday Tale No. 24

  In the end, it is not truth that changes, but the way it finally allows itself to be seen. 

  The Poison and its Antidote - Part 3 follows the quiet convergence, where what was once revealed and withheld begins to take a final shape.

The Poison and its Antidote

Photograph by Cottonbro studio on Pexels. 

  The gurkha ajarred the massive metal gate, unveiling her in an all-black attire. Nodding a greeting at him, she entered the compound and strode down the walkway with her heels going “clack-clack-clack” on the rocky grey pavers.

  Hearing the rhythm of her firm gait, Miara traced her steps carefully down the staircase, across the seated crowd and to the front door. Jojo, who was gloomily sitting by his master's feet, hastily followed her.

  They both arrived in time to meet Vasuki at the steps of the porch.

  “Momo, I did not shoot papa... the lady who meets me did it. I’m afraid. The police are saying a lot of different things. Please do somethin momo, please!” wailed Miara, hugging Vasuki.

  Vasuki knew Miara’s innocence, so she gently put her guarding arm around Miara, just like she had done for nine years after her mother left everyone behind. She bent to comfort Jojo, who unusually retreated and grunted at her touch, and anxiously began tugging at Miara’s skirt with his paws. It was as if he was attempting to keep her to himself and away from everyone else, or perhaps, attempting to compete with her in protecting Miara.

  Miara sought Jojo's muzzled face and whispered sternly, “Jojo, listen. It’s our momo. We don’t have to worry, now that she is here, everything will be okay!”

  Vasuki was always there. Always. She was there defending Samson at the principal's office when he was being dismissed for punching his bully. She was there holding his hands when the news of the fatal car crash, which stole away his parents, reached him. She was there supporting him when he succeeded his father's automotive industry. She was there cheering his first and lasting experience of love. She was there witnessing Chaya and him exchange their vows. She was there when Chaya brought baby Miara into the world. She was there when the scandal of Chaya’s drug abuse spurred constant quarrels between the couple. She was there when Chaya departed in search of eternal peace. She was there nurturing little Miara, whom a grieving Samson couldn't consistently attend to. She was there for him through his griefs and glee. And she was here today, as always, to hold his cold fingers one last time, and to lead him to a peaceful repose beside his dearest wife.

  Vasuki looked through the door at the 6 ft. glass box, sturdily holding her very dear Sam. In her general composure, she walked past the mourning crowd, swallowing the lump of sorrow that crawled up her throat. She offered her earnest prayer for her sleeping friend, and continued through the funeral mass, consoling the continuous breakdowns of little Mia, whose sorrow was expressed more frequently after momo's arrival.

  When the dreadful hours had passed, Vasuki caressed Mia to sleep, poured herself a glass of red wine from Sam’s cabinet, and looked deep into his eyes smiling at her through the massive frame that hung above Miara’s bed.

  With each sip, her memories drifted to the time when Sam had lingered rootlessly through his tender teenage years, struggling as an orphaned heir of V.R. Motors. He had tackled the pressures of upholding his father’s enterprise amidst the troubles caused by the malice of his guardians, who had attempted to loot him. Through great struggles, he built for himself a comfortable, tiny society of loved ones. And she had been a grateful part of his life and society, and had the pleasantest of times in his company. And now he was gone, gone to nowhere, into nothingness.

  Finding herself in a state of blankness as a result of the clash between overwhelming feelings, she could not grasp the profoundness of his death. One of the greatest purposes of her life was to be of help to Sam. She had first experienced that feeling when he had confided in her warmth about the tussle with Abhimanyu, their classmate. She felt the fullness of this satisfaction when he stood behind her with lowered head in the principal’s office, trusting her persuasive skills. From then on, their fondness strengthened, his for the safety he felt in her presence, hers for the fulfilment she experienced in succouring him. They remained each other's unfaltering support for over two decades. But all of it came crashing down when the news of his demise reached her.

  Vasuki was on a trip to meet a client when a call from Insp. Chandru informed her about the events of his death. The inspector had detailed that Sam was found dead in his living room at 11:27 p.m., his daughter sitting across from him, holding a revolver and muttering, “I killed papa.” Tabulated drugs were scattered across the room, and a small stock was seized from the left cabinet of Miara’s room. He had informed her that an investigation was underway and he wanted to enquire about Miara’s detainment. Upon Vasuki’s entreaty, and a faith over her conviction nurtured over 23 years of her service as a public prosecutor, he had concluded to defer the legal procedure till her arrival, and Mr Samuel’s funeral.

  Remembering the suddenness of all that had occurred, she wept in silence, trying not to wake Mia up. She chided at life’s resolve to toy with Sam, which had stolen—out of habit or of error—a family from a visually impaired daughter, just like it had done to her father ages ago. She consoled herself with the thought that Mia, Sam’s flesh and blood, would now fill his place in her life.

  She realised that she found more of Sam’s resemblance in Mia now than ever when she consciously noticed them. Mia was wealthy and orphaned, just like her father. She relied on external support as much as he did. She was kind, gentle, and resilient like him. The only thing she felt Mia had inherited from Chaya was her smartness, which was diluted by her credulousness inherited from her father. Vasuki could deduce this from the exchange they had before Mia fell asleep. Despite her disability, Mia was able to recount the gender and the build of the mysterious intruder who killed her father. Sobbing, she said, “Momo, I am sure it was a woman.”

- Mercy Rebonica