Mira Jacob - The Sleepwalker's Guide to Dancing

“Sunil!”

Both Sunil and Amina jumped as Ammachy appeared in the doorway, arms folded tightly over her chest, sniffing at the room. Amina turned and ran up a few stairs, so she wasn’t sure what happened next, whether her grandmother actually sent the needle skidding across the record or if Sunil had done it himself, but the quiet that followed hummed with potential disaster.

“This again,” Ammachy said.

Shuffling. The sound of liquid being poured. A glass slammed on a table.

“You’ve had enough already, Sunil. Go to bed.”

Silence. Amina leaned forward. They were switching rapidly between English and Malayalam, which always just sounded like argada-argada-argada to her, until her grandmother demanded, “And where exactly is your brother?”

“I already told you, I don’t know.”

“So? You can’t be bothered to look for him?”

A sigh, a snort. “Please, Amma.”

“He’s your brother! ” Ammachy snarled.

“Argada-argada.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Sunil loosed another sigh, but this one was forced, feigned boredom hiding anger. “It means that Thomas is Thomas and he will go where he wants when he wants. You of all people should know that.”

“Oh, stop it with that. No one is interested in your babbling.”

“Surprise!”

“Idiot! You’re drunk. Argada-argada-argada .”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Amina slid her feet over the edge of one stair, then another. She peeked around the wall to find her uncle slumped into a living room chair, all trace of music and movement sucked from him. Ammachy hovered over the chair, the bright green silk of her sari glowing.

“How dare you do this?” she hissed.

“What now?” Sunil shut his eyes, leaning his head back on the chair.

“Feeling sorry for yourself again. Today of all days!”

“I don’t know what—”

“The house! You finally got him to give it to you.”

There was a moment while this sank in, Sunil’s bid for detachment redirecting. He sat up. “You think … you think signing over the house was my idea?”

“All the time he is giving you things, feeling sorry for you! Poor Sunil didn’t get the same opportunities, poor Sunil doesn’t have enough! And now you’ve taken the house!”

“He gave it to me.”

“Because he is always taking care of you.”

“Because he wanted me to take it from him .” Sunil rose from the couch. “You think he wants to live here?”

“He doesn’t know what he wants yet!”

“He doesn’t … You believe that, Amma? That Thomas has been gone these ten years because he doesn’t know what he wants?” Sunil laughed, but underneath there was tightness in his voice. “You think he wants to sit and rot every day in this place instead of running off to America and sending checks?”

“He sends the money for you!”

“He sends it for himself , Amma! He sends it so he doesn’t have to come. My God, you must know that by now.”

If she did know it, Ammachy gave no sign, choosing instead to wrap the end of her sari tightly around her shoulders. “Go to bed!”

“You think Thomas would ever give me something he actually wanted ?” Sunil shouted as she walked into the hallway, and Amina covered her ears, suddenly understanding that she had heard too much. She felt for the step behind her with one foot, then the other, hoping illogically that if she walked all the way to her parents’ room backward, she would unremember the entire conversation. The knob was cool against her palm as she twisted it and shuffled into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Amina turned around to find her mother frowning at her.

“Nothing.” Amina sat on the bed.

“You’re feeling sick?”

“No.”

“Did you make BM today?”

“Yes!”

Akhil rolled his eyes. “Sure you did, poo bag.”

“Akhil,” Kamala snapped. “Enough. Your move.”

“Helloooo, Mom, anyone home? I won already.”

“Fine, so do something with yourself.”

“Like what? Make Amina poo?”

Amina rushed at him, digging deep into his belly with her nails so that he shrieked, knocking over the game and the marbles, which spilled across the bed, providing an unlikely torture device as he slammed her on her back. He twisted his head to spit on her, and Amina grabbed an ear, pulling as hard as she could.

“AMINAKHIL! STOP THIS BUSINESS AT ONCE!” Kamala pushed between them, sharp hands collaring their necks. She forced them apart.

“Jerkface!”

“Diaper!”

Amina kicked at him again, and her mother squeezed her throat. “Ow!”

“My God,” Thomas said from the doorway. “What is all that about?”

The family turned to him, panting, and Thomas walked into the room, a sweet and funky cloud of toddy on him. He smiled his lopsided smile, and no one knew what to say.

“You missed dinner,” Kamala finally said.

“I know, I know. Sorry.”

“Where were you?”

“Out.”

“Out where? Doing what?”

“Well …” Thomas looked at them, as if considering something. “Making plans, actually.”

“What plans?”

“Well …” He looked from Akhil to Amina to Kamala and back again. “Okay, listen. I have some big news.”

“You do?” Kamala’s hands dropped, and her voice was soft with excitement.

“We’re going on a trip!”

“What?”

“To the beach! Sundar Mukherjee’s wife is a travel agent, and she booked us rooms at the Royal Crown Suites in Kovalam!”

“What’s Kovalam?” Akhil asked.

“Rooms?” Kamala’s face darkened. “What for?”

“Kovalam is the beach on the peninsula,” Thomas told Akhil. “It’s very nice.”

“But we don’t have time, Thomas! My sisters will be—” Kamala began.

“We’ll get to Lila’s on time. We’ll just leave here a little early.”

“Early?” Kamala asked. “How early?”

“Tomorrow midday.”

“What?”

“We need to rest, koche . A real vacation.”

“Vacation?” Kamala’s voice dropped an octave, like she was saying drug binge or spending spree . “Thomas, what are you talking about?”

“A break! A little peace and quiet! You know, a chance for us to just relax.”

“I’m relaxed!” Kamala protested, looking anything but.

“No you’re not. And how could you be with my mother nagging you all the time?” Thomas raised his hands into the air. “Impossible! She’s made it impossible. It’s not fair to you or the children. No wonder everyone is fighting!”

“A beach like Hawaii?” Akhil asked. “Does the hotel have TV?”

“Yes, I believe it does.”

“Does it have a swimming pool?” Amina asked.

“It has a very nice pool,” Thomas informed her. “I believe there’s even a bar in the middle, where you can swim up and order a fizzy drink.”

Amina gulped, dizzy with possibility.

“Thomas,” Kamala said sharply. “We can’t just go.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not!” She raised her eyebrow at the bedroom door, as though it were Ammachy herself. “Have you told her?”

“Don’t worry about that! I will explain tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Tomorrow? Understand? Have you lost your minds? Besides, what will the neighbors think? Everyone will talk!”

“Who cares what the neighbors think?” Thomas scoffed.

“Everyone cares what the neighbors think!”

“Kamala,” Thomas sighed, rubbing his neck. “It’s not such a big deal. We’ll be leaving a few days early to go to the coast, that’s all. Don’t make it into a federal case, okay?”