To Raise A Timid Son

By Arif Anees

Have you ever smelled air that smells like a fresh leather-bound book? It's hard to explain, there's a faint scent of chemicals like glue and paint that dance up the nostrils but it's a deeper smell of paper and bits of dust from the stitching that really stay around.

That's how school smelled on the first day of the year. Bobbing and weaving through this blanket of not-yet nostalgia was the silliest child you'd ever seen. Vijay's shorts were two sizes too big, ballooning around his twig legs and his socks climbed almost to his knees. His shirt was ironed crisp and his thick glasses were polished perfectly. All the extra fabric around him was pinned flat like extensions to his angles. And between this tangle of controversy was a fair face with the quietest features. Short, combed hair crowned the head that was too small for its body.

Vijay had tugged away at his hair on the school bus. It was always the first thing to fade in the image Amala Kumar painted each morning onto her son. The hot lunch box would be emptied before the second period was over, two hours before the actual lunch time. On a good day, his oversized school bag would only lose a thing or two.

Vijay sat down on the last bench of third grade, alone as always. The class teacher for the year was Ms Neetu. Vijay had never seen her before and he didn’t like that. As Vijay felt the tiny boat of his mind tipping under the weight of fear, a smaller stranger appeared next to his teacher. A pale, skinny child stood with his arms dangling to either side.

Familiar things were comfortable things. His mother would always tell him who he could talk to, and who he had to run from. George was a good boy, Aman was mean. Salma always played hopscotch with him, but Preeti had made him eat sand once. For a child so often spaced out, fear revved his mind into focus and always crashed out before he could do anything about it.

The air around him began to thin, where one moment his nose was flush with breath and the next, his lungs were tugging at nothing. He buried his head into the desk and did the exercise his mother had taught him. Breathe in through the nose for 8 seconds, hold it in for 4, and exhale through the mouth for 8 more.

By the third cycle, the sweat stopped emerging from his pores and his chest stopped burning. The class sang their new classmate a chorus, “Hi, Niketh,” and Vijay joined a beat too late. Several heads reared and the new boy himself had now locked eyes with the pea-bodied, panicking child.

You don’t need to do what the other kids do. It’s okay to sit back. Vijay heard his mother’s voice, bearing a tone of condolence that he only understood as care.

The teacher assigned Niketh the seat next to Vijay, the only available place in the whole class. From the way the new boy had feebly walked to the back of the class, Vijay felt a lot less threatened. A vast gap emerged between the pair of slight boys. Neither spoke a word to the other, and only Vijay stole glances at the strange boy who seemed uninterested in anything. Niketh had rough, matted hair that curled like a sheep’s coat, Vijay noted. He was skinny, stiff and only seemed to oscillate slightly every few minutes, apart from which he opened books slowly and blinked even slower.

Vijay was fully disarmed and going about his day as he would but both their lips were stitched shut as Vijay fiddled with pencils or dug his nose and Niketh sat like a stone. A two-metre boat of silence floating amidst vessels of chatter.

it was at the end of the second period that Vijay had bored himself into feeling hungry and began nibbling at an egg roll from his bag. Niketh, without ever turning his head, extended an empty hand.

Being robbed of his lunch was nothing new for Vijay but the silence was especially unnerving. The shoving or jokes that preceded usually killed his appetite. Niketh collected the roll with a stiff arm and raised it to his nose. As his nostrils flared and sucked the fragrance in, something emerged from the darkness of his nose.

A worm appeared from his left nostril, crowning first and extending fast. It was black on the top with an amber belly and it sloshed and wiggled itself upright. Niketh’s hollow cheeks seemed to collapse in on themselves and the flesh on his nose began sliding off to reveal the delicate bone.

Vijay stared with his mouth open and though the worm didn’t seem to have eyes, Vijay somehow knew it was watching him. Was this normal? Was it real? Her mother had never told him anything about faces coming off or insects in the body. The boy jumped too far out of his seat and fell to the floor. Before he could even register any pain he was clambering away and stopped only when Manpreet, a bully as old as Vijay's school life, dug his shoe into Vijay's shoulder.

While the whole class had their eyes trained on Vijay, his gaze never left the worm making its way from one nostril to the other. The giggles and words of concern were all drowning out under the sticky squirming still ringing in Vijay's ear. The undulating black-brown-amber of the worm had bled into his cornea. And within this shadow trap a lone, pale silhouette loomed.

-

Vijay woke up to honking and the humdrum of city streets. He recognised the car as his father's and surely, he found his father driving. Krishna noticed his son wake and asked, "What happened, sweetheart? How are you feeling now?"

Vijay felt too exhausted to try and describe anything. "I'm hungry," was all he could manage, too scared to revisit what he'd seen.

"We're almost home. Try going back to sleep and then we can have lunch with mom."

Vijay couldn't sleep and stared outside the window that was a little too high for him. The car roofs zooming past his father's SUV always made for a fascinating scene. He would imagine different kinds of people driving silver and blue and red cars and how he would drive a car without a roof when he was grown. The colours of the vehicles were as he knew them. But slowly the bright coats of paint started to appear faded. At first, the cars started appearing with dents and scratches, and then more and more cars had their side mirrors hanging or bumpers missing. And then their colours really changed. Before his eyes, a tiny black car sprouted a patch of rust on its side. The tiny brown blot grew, branching out across the entire car body like the rust was turning it into soil. The people inside didn't seem to notice, nor the dozens of other motorists around. "Dad, what's that?" Vijay asked.

"We're almost home. Just another couple of minutes," Krishna replied, not seeming to notice the decaying vehicles around. Vijay receded into his seat and closed his eyes. As he rocked back and forth, a blaring horn pierced his eardrums and pried his eyes open. A lorry was charging at their car at full speed with the driver slumped over the steering wheel. His father casually swerved without a flinch, humming a tune as he did it.

Vijay dashed out as soon as they arrived home to his mother waiting at the door. He wrapped his arms around her neck and she immediately picked him up. Vijay buried his face in her shoulder and she carried him inside. “I don’t feel good, mom.”

“It’s okay, honey. I always knew school wasn’t right for my boys. You’re so pure and kids your age can be so difficult.” Amala placed her son down by the kitchen counter where a sandwich and juice box were laid out for him.

Vijay reached for the sandwich but his mother’s grunt was all he needed to rush and wash his hands first. She was a beautiful woman whose features may have shone a decade ago but now the frown lines were deep and always at bay. Amala loved the idea of having children with Krishna, she knew they were both smart and were blessed with strong features. She was sure their children would be gems and so they were to her. And she was their protector.

As Vijay slowly nibbled at his food Amala continued, “Your father just didn’t get it before. But you know I always know just what you need, right, love?”

Vijay nodded his head, loosening up after the short, painful day. Amala inspected the shoe-shaped stain and dirt on his shorts. His face had a small cut where he had collapsed in class. “The school nurse said on the phone that you were probably just hungry but she doesn’t know what a perfect breakfast I make you! You’re losing all that baby fat and becoming so handsome, and she just wants me to let you grow fat.”

“Look at mommy! I’m 37 years old and I’ve had two kids. No one would be able to tell, right? Because I don’t just stuff my face whenever I’m hungry and neither will my son.” Amala took off her apron and grabbed a bottle of wine. She downed a few pills with the first sip of her full glass.

“From now on, I’ll teach you everything at home! We’re going to have so much fun as a family and I promise you no more strange classrooms or bullies, just us.” Vijay extended a pinky finger and Amala joined hers, only her finger was quite stiff. “Pinky promise,” they said together.

“But mom, where’s dad?”

“He’s just getting your things from school so we can start learning early tomorrow. Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can rest.”

Amala refilled her glass and walked her son upstairs. Their house was a cozy duplex that had windows all around but every blind was closed and every light turned off. Vijay could navigate well enough but his mother had bumped into chairs and tables all the way to the bathroom. As she bathed Vijay, he said, "I didn't know you had two children, mom. Am I going to have a little brother?" The little boy hopped in place inside the bathtub. This was a stranger he just knew he would love.

"God, you're so smart! Not exactly, baby boy. You had an older brother. He was your age when – well, let's just say mommy and daddy didn't do a good enough job at keeping him safe." Amala downed her entire glass and whipped her head.

"But I promised myself we'd do better with you! And I think you'll like what daddy's bringing home."

Vijay dried off, momentarily forgetting the day he'd had. Home had been full of good news - no more school and a surprise gift. He walked past the upstairs living room and stopped when he noticed candles lined in a circle. Five candles at five points of a circle. A sharp smell climbed up his nose. Vijay didn't know how to describe it but you might know it to be rotten eggs. Rotten eggs cut with iron and soil. Vijay just walked to his room but you may have been unable to turn your back for fear of what lurked in the dark. You may have twitched and shivered when you saw how dishevelled and sallow his mother was. But Vijay was happy to be home.

Warm, clean and tucked into bed - the boy's eyelids were heavy. Amala stood beside her son's bed and admired what she had made. The main door opened and she slowly craned her neck to the bedroom door. Krishna walked in with his sleeves rolled up, carrying a box with Vijay's stationery and books.

"I have some bad news, honey. We thought the newest member of our family wasn't around to help Vijay but it turns out he was assigned to the same class," said Krishna, placing the cardboard box in a corner.

"In that case, we need to let him watch over you closer. Niki, you can come in!" Amala called.

The familiar pale apparition gracelessly walked into the room, fumbling between steps taken on unlubricated joints. Amala placed an open palm behind Niketh and brought him closer to Vijay, who was shivering throughout his whole body while his eyes were frozen in place.

"How can I have a little baby boy if there's no bigger brother or sister, right? I mean, when your brother, Vinay was born your father and I couldn't wait for him to grow up because that's who he was - a big boy! And we wanted to have him here to grow up with you but we're just as glad that Niki answered when we called." Amala said.

Vijay could feel the sobs rising as his tear ducts swelled. His father approached the bed and looked down at his sons. As he craned his neck down, an eye gently descended from its socket and Krishna popped it back into place. "Now you know I want you to have everything you want. But your mom and I paid a lot to bring Niketh here to live with us and we want you both to get to know each other!" Krishna said.

Amala nodded, rolling her once dark brown, now amber-red eyes. "How silly of us. We need to give these boys some time alone! Niki, you'll watch over your big brother, he needs to rest now."

Niketh was the only one who still had a semblance of similarity to who he had been earlier - stiff, drained and suffering silently. Vijay's parents left the room and all he could do was close his eyes as tight as possible. Eyelids like iron pikes, the darkness a moat of safety from the deadness taking birth around him. This refuge of his was broken through with a hoarse voice dragging one word over several seconds, "Lunch." And Niketh stood over Vijay with an egg roll.

By Arif Anees