THE BOY

The mansion stood back from the road. A big park and driveway separated it from the lives of the ordinary people on the street. She could glimpse it through the bars of the gate as she stood irresolute; not knowing what was the right thing to do.

She had been asked to come so should she just march up to it, since inspite of her many attempts she had not been able to locate a gatekeeper and the gate was open. Or should she keep waiting till someone told her that she may go in?

The sun had climbed directly overhead and her shadow lay curled at her feet as if it too didn’t know where to head. The postman solved the problem for her. He approached the gate and without even a sideways glance at her walked through. She followed, timidly at first, then more boldly. As she approached, the mansion seemed to grow bigger. It didn’t seem as big from the gate as it did up close.

Gleaming white in the sun, the many pillars and dark recesses for a moment made her visualize a massive skull bleached white. She shuddered at the thought, reprimanded herself for thinking such sad thoughts and marched on.

The household was arranged around a master and his weekly visits on a Wednesday to an inner room where no one else was allowed. This much she had quickly deciphered.

Time seemed to be measured by a different system here. From Monday till the master’s visit to the inner room on Wednesday, the tension in the house was so thick that she felt she could touch it if she chose to raise a finger. Once the visit was over things would slowly become normal and by the weekend it would almost be a normal household. As yet she had not dared ask what or who it was that the Master visited.

There were many people working, though who did exactly what she could not make out. She had been shown her room and her duties by the elderly butler and till now when almost a fortnight had passed he was her only contact point. The other employees did not speak to her for that matter she had never seen them talk amongst themselves either.

That day she was cleaning the railings and pictures on the second floor landing when suddenly a door had been thrust open and the master rushed out. She clearly saw the wound on his neck though he didn’t notice her.

She turned to see a small child with a T-shirt stuck on his head in the far corner of the room from which the master had emerged. The child seemed helpless and without thinking much of it she walked into the room to help him.
As soon as she walked in, she felt she had walked into the presence of a power beyond her understanding. She stopped before the child not knowing what to do next. At close quarters the child didn’t seem helpless, the T-shirt instead of being stuck was held in place by the child with one hand and she realized without being told that his face was not to be seen.

She lowered herself onto her knees and stood waiting, the child with slow hesitant steps came towards her and she instinctively opened her arms for him. He came close and made as if to climb into her lap all the time making small whimpering noises. She had barely picked the child in her arms that the master walked in. He stared at the child in her arms and then softy closed the door.

When she came out of the room, summons awaited her to meet the master in his study. Terrified at the prospect of losing a good job she went only to be told to attend to the child when he asked for her and to let the master know incase she wanted anything either for the child or herself.

She would wake up suddenly in the middle of the night or stop midway while sweeping the carpet and run up to the second floor, she now had a key to the room using it she would walk in and the child would be there waiting for her. How did she know when the child wanted her? She had puzzled long, till it dawned on her that they had a telepathic connection though it seemed to work only one way.

What was it about the child that was so frightening she couldn’t gauge. He never was violent though she remembered the wound on the master’s neck. All he wanted her to do was small tasks, take down a toy, get him food or water or help him climb the window sill. Though the door was always locked firmly the child showed no curiosity for what lay behind. He never followed her to the door.

At times she would speak to the child while he lay on his rocking chair, she would tell him stories she had heard from her granny and the child would listen. Then one day she started to talk about herself, how she had grown up in a village and come to the city looking for work. She avoided telling about her short lived relation with a youth and suddenly found that she couldn’t proceed with the story….it was as if her tongue stuck to the roof, she looked around bewildered.

Her first thought was to run away but then she saw the child get off the chair and start to come towards her, as he moved she was filled with terror. With a supreme effort she started talking about that the young man who had filled her dreams for a few months before decamping with her savings. The child stopped walking and went back to his chair.

She wanted to badly discuss the incident with someone, be assured that the menace she felt when the child walked towards her was all a figment of her imagination. But who could she talk to?

Days went on and her summons to the child’s room at erratic hours continued so did the master’s weekly visits with mixed results. Sometimes things would be peaceful and the master would come out smiling at others he would rush out hurriedly and then stay locked up in his study for hours.

One such Wednesday she was walking up with a fresh bouquet of flowers to the first floor when she heard a loud thud and then a scream, without knowing why she just dropped the flowers and rushed up to the child’s room. She used her key to open the door and inside found the master cowering in a corner while the child was approaching him in that menacing manner she had seen before. Running between man and child she looked at the master and then as a great calm descended on her she turned and told the master ‘tell the truth if you wish to live’.

With great difficulty the man got to his feet and as the child continued to move towards him blurted out, ‘she died because of me but I didn’t do it intentionally, she was standing in the dark and I didn’t see her and accidentally tripped over her, she rolled down the stairs and the doctor said he could either save the child or the mother. I had to choose. I chose the child because as per my grandfather’s will this immense property would be mine only when I provided the family with an heir.’

The child stopped walking and got down on all fours. He lay there weeping for a long time till she finally found the courage to go over and pick him up. He whimpered in her lap and slowly went to sleep. She pulled away his T-shirt and saw his face. It was a peculiar face, she kept puzzling over what it was about it that was endearing and yet frightful at the same time. The answer came unbidden; it was the face of truth.