Beyond the Fields

by Aysha Baqir

  What was she talking about? I swerved towards the others for support, but immediately shrank from their cold, accusing, dead-fish eyes. “I didn’t take it, I promise. You got him ready.”

  “Me?” Nanny narrowed her eyes until they were slits of steel. “Are you trying to blame me?” She squeezed my arm hard.

  “You’re hurting me,” I cried. “No, I just ….”

  “Not so fast,” cut in the cook. He folded his heavy arms across his chest. “You met someone just now. Your brother, right?”

  “Yes,” I breathed out in relief. Omer would confirm my story.

  “Ah,” pounced Nanny.

  “So you gave it to him,” declared the cook.

  “What? No, that’s not what I meant,” I stuttered. Why didn’t they believe me?

  “Tell the truth,” said Nanny.

  “It’s the truth.”

  “How do we know it was even her brother?” added the cook.

  “You gave it to him, whoever he was,” insisted Nanny. “Tell us, if you know what’s good for you.”

  “She’ll tell us after I’m done with her,” declared the cook. He turned around. “Everyone out.”

  Feet shuffled. I broke into a cold sweat. They couldn’t leave me alone with him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” growled the cook. I flinched, feeling his fingers brush my shoulders.

  “Nanny?” I pleaded. The room was empty except for us. I tried to move back, but Nanny blocked my way.

  “Liars deserve to be punished,” spat Nanny.

  Punished? My gut heaved. I reeled back, trying to pull away but bumped into a stool and flung my arms out to break my fall.

  “Hey, stop that. Stop lashing out! Wake up,” yelled Nanny.

  Nanny’s head was close to my face. Shrieking, I pushed back. “I didn’t take it, I promise.”

  “Take what? What are you talking about?” Nanny shook my shoulders. “Wake up and listen to me.”

  I opened my eyes. I was on my charpai, drenched in sweat.

  “Are you listening?”

  “What’s wrong?” I croaked, scrambling up. It had been a dream, a bad dream. I swallowed. My throat hurt.

  “It’s a mess,” whispered Nanny. “Madam’s unwell. She quarrelled with Jameel Saab. He went out for a while. When he came back he found her unconscious. She’s overdosed, taken dozens of sleeping pills. Saab wants answers.” Nanny wrung her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why hasn’t Jameel Saab taken her to hospital or called for a doctor?” My head throbbed. The dream had been too real, too close to what could happen.

  “You don’t get to ask questions,” snapped Nanny. “Saab has ordered Gloria to take Sehr Madam to the hospital. But I can’t find that poker-faced foreigner. I’ve looked everywhere.”

  “Have you checked her room?” I stopped at the expression on her face. “Of course you have. Where else have you looked?”

  “Everywhere, I’ve searched the whole house. There’s no trace of her. Maybe she’s stepped out. You need to go and check before I tell Saab she’s not in the house.”

  “Me?” I reeled backwards.

  “Who else? Bushra is on leave, and I’ve tried calling the guards on the intercom. One line is busy, and the other idiot doesn’t pick up. If Gloria’s out, she hasn’t told Saab.”

  “But ...” Catching the sharp glint in Nanny’s eyes, I fell silent. I didn’t have a choice. I had to do as I was told. Bushra had left this afternoon and I was alone.

  Pulling my chador over my head, I pushed my feet into my chapplis, followed Nanny down the rickety stairs, through the shadowy corridor, and into the main house. Nanny stopped outside Sehr Madam’s room, knocked on the heavy wooden door and slipped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar. I peered through the crack and gasped. A storm had hit the room. The cheetah-printed bedding was thrown off the bed. Curtains, torn down from rods, lay in a heap by the windows. Books littered the wooden floor, torn pages fluttered in the draught from the air conditioner, and shards of jagged glass gleamed under the broken lamp. A dark pool of liquid stained the floor. What had made Sehr Madam wreck the room? Had she hurt herself?

  “Stop this nonsense and get Gloria here!” thundered Jameel Saab. I jumped back.

  “Follow me,” huffed Nanny, shutting the door, and marched off. I trailed after her. “The guards turn into wild dogs at night,” she cautioned as we entered the kitchen. “Be careful.”

  And she was throwing me to them. I drew my chador down to my brows. My legs buckled as I pushed open the side door. Shadows whispered and shifted in the narrow alley. Something alive rustled behind the tall hedges. Did the night eyes watch me? I hurried down the path and turned the corner. What I saw made me jam a fist into my mouth to keep from crying out.

  The entwined silhouettes clung and swayed. The dimmed lights did little to hide the fused bodies. The lithe frame with long silky hair, was it Gloria? It was. And who was she with, the guard? I watched them, unable to tear my eyes away. My face was hot, and then my gut flipped. If Gloria ever found out …

  I scurried back, cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “Guard, where are you?”

  The dogs barked. A crash. Someone swore. I wheeled around and sprinted back down the alley into the kitchen. “She’s coming. I have to get to the bathroom.” I tried to rush past Nanny.

  “Wait,” Nanny reached for my arm. “What happened?”

  I shook my head, pulled away and raced upstairs. It wasn’t cold, but I was trembling as I sank down on the charpai and pulled the sheet over my head.

  30

  I woke up hot and sticky. The fan had stopped. Pale light filtered in from under the door. Rolling over, I yelped, catching sight of two black boots at the door. Fear clawed my gut. What was she doing here?

  “Pack up. Shafique’s arranged another maid.” Gloria walked inside.

  “Another maid?” I croaked. “Why?”

  “You’re finished. What did you think, that you could fool me? Blackmail me?” hissed Gloria.

  “Blackmail you?” I sat up and shook my head. “No, I would never do that.”

  “Shut up,” snapped Gloria, her eyes glinting like daggers. “If you say a word to anyone about last night, you’ll be sorry. You get that? If anyone asks, tell them you’ve been called back, or there was too much work, or whatever.” She swerved towards the door.

  “No, please,” I hurried after her. “I had no choice. Nanny told me to go look for you.”

  “You saw me?” she asked.

  Hesitating for an instant, I nodded, lowered my head, and cupped my hands. “But I didn’t tell Nanny anything. I promise. Don’t make me leave. I can’t leave, not yet.” My breath squeezed into a knot. I couldn’t leave now.

  “That’s too bad. You should have had more sense than to listen to that old ghoul. I had begun to think that you would last. Pack your things and get out.” Shooting me a hard glare, Gloria strode out.

  My eyes blurred, watching her leave.

  But suddenlt Gloria was charging back, her eyes fastened on my face. “Wait. What did you just say? You said ‘not yet’. What did you mean by you can’t go home, ‘not yet’?”

  I stared back, my breath frozen. Had I said that?

  “Tell me!” hissed Gloria.

  “Ma’am,” I stalled. My mind raced, searching for a spin. She was sharp. She would catch me out. “Shafique,” I began.

  “Forget him. Tell me the truth. You’re hiding something. What is it?”

  A tiny lie can push you down a slippery slope. I heard Nani’s words in my ears. I couldn’t slip down again. I had to risk telling the truth. Taking a deep breath, I related my family’s story, starting from the afternoon we had gone to play in the fields to when Amma had spotted Kamran’s picture in the newspaper, to how I had plotted to reach Lahore. I finished by telling Gloria about Omer’s last visit, and shivered at the blaze in Gloria’s eyes. Was she angry? No. It wasn’t anger.

  “You’re a f
ool to think this man will give her up,” growled Gloria. “Your sister belongs to him now. Go back to the village. Forget her.”

  “No.” My gut hardened. “I have to find her. Help me find her.”

  “Help you?” Gloria narrowed her eyes. “Why would I ever do that? And you’re crazy. Do you know what can happen to you if you get caught?”

  “I know,” I whispered. The dream was still too real. I shivered. I had escaped, but Tara hadn’t. Suddenly, I wasn’t afraid anymore. The fields had never trapped me, and the burka had never caged me. My thoughts had done that. I had let them. Not anymore.

  I had lost my twin, my best friend, my only friend. We had whispered secrets and stories to each other, laughed together, saved each other from Amma’s quick temper, and planned to discover the world together. She had asked me to look out for her. I was going to keep my promise. I was going to find her, and find the lost part of me.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.” Gloria shook me by my shoulders. “If they catch you, they’ll rape you, put you into the business or kill you. Then what?”

  “I can’t go back without my twin,” I whispered.

  Gloria eyed me for a few seconds, shook her head and sighed. “You are a strange girl. Okay, I’m going to think about what you’ve told me. But if you say a word to anyone about what you saw last night, I’ll have you thrown out before you can blink.”

  31

  “I’ve been looking for you,” whispered Nanny. She yanked me to one side. “Tell me what you saw. Right after you dashed off, Gloria sauntered in like a cat that’s swallowed a dish of cream and refused to answer any questions.”

  “Is Sehr Madam all right?” I tried to pull away.

  “Shush.” Nanny’s eyes darted around the room. “A quiet corner is the most dangerous place to talk.”

  “But is she okay?” I remembered Sehr Madam’s delicate frame and pale face. Had Jameel Saab done something to make her want to hurt herself?

  “She’s better, the poor soul. But it’s nothing to do with us.” Nanny squeezed my arm. “Now tell me what you saw.”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. I walked out and called out to the guard.”

  “And?” Nanny’s grip tightened.

  “And then I saw Gloria walking across the garden.”

  “And you didn’t see anything else?” probed Nanny. She pushed the spectacles up her nose. “I might be old, but I’m not a fool. Tell me what happened!”

  “I’ve told you.”

  “No, you haven’t. Tell me. I will make working here easier for you.”

  “Nothing, I saw nothing.”

  “Nothing? Are you sure?” Nanny’s fingers dug into my arms. “That poker-faced foreigner is up to no good, but I need proof to get her out.” She pressed her lips to my ears. “It will be better for you if you tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” I mumbled.

  “Nothing, huh? Fine, then, you get to work and so will I.” Looking around quickly, Nanny stepped back. “Don’t come running to me now. I’ve warned you.”

  The next afternoon I entered the laundry room to find a heap of freshly laundered clothes soiled with stains, and a pile of ironed clothes ready to be hung into closets, all crumpled. I re-laundered and re-ironed until late at night. The next day it was the same, the heap even bigger. A few days later I found my chapplis slashed, and my clothes cut. The other maids stopped talking to me. When I entered the kitchen they turned away. The cook halved my portions and gave me cold tea without sugar. At night I woke up, soaked in sweat and gasping for breath. It was the same dream every night. The cook and Nanny would be chasing me through the fields when I would stumble, and find myself sprawled over Sehr Madam’s dead body. I missed Bushra. I had no one to talk to or confide in. I had overheard the maids saying that she had extended her leave.

  A week later, I rushed upstairs to start the ironing. Again, a load of ironed clothes were crumpled and stuffed into a basket. Suddenly wanting to burst into tears, I hauled up the basket, and set it next to the ironing stand.

  “Ah, there you are,” drawled Gloria. “Phew, it gets hot here.” She stood in the doorway.

  I nodded, and smoothed Sehr Madam’s chiffon dupatta on the ironing board. I dared not switch on the fan. Silently, I began to slide the iron back and forth over the sheer fabric.

  “Is everything okay?” Gloria leaned against the doorway.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Why was she here? What did she want?

  “I have some news for you.”

  “News?” Suddenly feeling light-headed, I set the iron down.

  “Look at your face,” mocked Gloria “Did you think I would believe anything you told me? I have many friends, and my friends have friends.” She folded her arms and frowned. “I checked your story out.” She paused. “Zara, it’s risky for you to meet your sister. Go back to your village.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered. What had she found out?

  “This man your sister is married to, he’s dangerous.”

  “I know.” I clenched my fists.

  “No, you don’t. You think you do, but you know nothing. This man, Kamran, he’s a monster.”

  I shook my head. “Do you know where she is?” I whispered.

  “Are you listening? Return to your village. You’ll be a fool not to. You can’t do anything. Go back.”

  “Not without Tara.”

  Gloria exhaled slowly. “Fine, but remember, I’ve warned you.” She set her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “You’re right. The marriage ceremony was a fraud. This man has married at least half a dozen girls under this pretence. The rumour is that he’s put your sister in his new brothel. The police raided the place some months ago and arrested him, but he used his connections to get out. If you want, I can arrange for you to meet her, but I’ll need ...” She brushed her thumb over her fingertips.

  “I have the money,” I burst out.

  Gloria narrowed her eyes. “I know you do. But are you sure you want to do this?” She clasped my shoulders. “Listen to me, it’s better if you forget about your twin and return home. That man Kamran is evil. Do you know what he can do to you?”

  I nodded. Did I really? There was a hard lump in my throat.

  Gloria stared at me for a few moments and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll finalise the arrangements then.”

  “How? You said …” My voice trailed off.

  “I’ve got friends who’ve got friends,” said Gloria. She squared her shoulders. Her eyes flashed. “You are a fool, but you have spunk and the will to fight for a cause. I like that. In my country too, women fight for a cause. The women in my family, in my city and country, they all fight for a cause.”

  32

  I slipped past the cook’s brooding gaze into the alley, and hurried to the guardhouse. Seeing the guard bent over a newspaper, I thumped my fist against the window. The guard lurched back, stared at me, and grabbed the note I held out. Soothing back his thinning henna-dyed hair, he grunted, picked up the receiver, dialled the number, and handed it to me.

  “Hello,” I stuttered. “It’s me, Zara. You remember? Master Saab’s student. I want to see Omer, my brother.” The words rushed out. Gloria had told me to keep the call short.

  “Why? Are you in trouble? I’ll send you packing if you are,” growled Shafique.

  “No, no trouble. I wanted to send my salary back home.”

  “Foolish girl. I would keep it if I were you,” said Shafique and hung up.

  Two days passed before I heard Sidra, the replacement for Surriya, calling my name. I uncurled my frame from under the mahogany dining table, where I had been trying to loosen the grime lodged in the wooden folds. Nobody in my village would believe that the rich ate on tables as big as boats, with legs shaped like dragons.

  “Your brother is waiting outside. You should hurry, he’s saying he has to leave.” Sidra winked. “Is he your real brother? He’s cute.”

  I sprang up. “Is he still at the guard house?”
>
  “How should I know?” Giving me a blank stare, Sidra walked away. I dropped the cleaning equipment in the laundry room, pulled a chador round my head, and hurried down the hall.

  “Hey you, what’s your name, and where are all the other maids?” Sehr Madam swayed on her pencil thin heels. She floated in a finely embroidered shalwar kameez in the purest of white. “Here, iron this quickly and bring it to me,” she ordered, holding out a bundle.

  “Now?” I gaped.

  “Yes, now.” The thin rose lips pouted, and the thick arched brows furrowed.

  “Bibi, my brother, he’s waiting outside. Can I see him first? It will …” I stopped. Sehr Madam had dropped the clothes on the floor and turned away. The sound of clicking heels echoed in the passageway. Twenty minutes later, handing over the ironed clothes to Sehr Madam, I hurried to the kitchen. It was empty. Opening the side door, I dashed through the alley and spotted Omer leaning against a pillar on the porch. Aware of the guard’s curious stare, I beckoned Omer to follow me to the bench under the tree.

  In the next few minutes, I shared everything that had happened over the past few days: how Nanny had sent me out to search for Gloria, what I had seen in the guardhouse, my confrontation with Gloria, and her offer to arrange a meeting. But no, not everything. I wasn’t going to tell him the truth about how I was going to get inside the brothel. It wasn’t going to stop me.

  “This is insane. Amma and Abba will be furious if they find out.” Omer scowled.

  My breath snapped and fire ripped my throat. He cared about what Amma and Abba thought. Hadn’t they done enough damage already?

  “I can’t believe what happens in this place,” continued Omer. “How dare Nanny try to get you involved in this? She should have gone out herself.”

  I shut my eyes. I had to rein in my anger, harness the fury. Control it and breathe it out. Opening my eyes, I steadied my voice. “This is our only chance to get Tara out,” I began, and quickly ran over the plan I had devised with Gloria’s help. I had to make him believe me. I had practiced going over it. It didn’t sound unbelievable, but it wasn’t the entire truth.