The Third Eye by Mahtab Narsimhan

rolled up the bedding quietly and stowed it in a corner of the room. They tiptoed into the kitchen. Suraj had gone out the back door and a cold gust of wind and rain swept into the room. Tara shivered. Within minutes she had a warm fire crackling and made tea for both ofthem. Suraj came back from the backyard, soaked, but wide awake and grinning.
    Tara brushed and came back within minutes, cold but refreshed.
    As soon as they’d finished breakfast of stale chappatis, Tara led Suraj to the far corner of the kitchen. They cradled their glasses of tea and sat with their backs to the wall to get a clear view of the front room.
    â€œWe have to run away, Suraj. At first light tomorrow!”
    â€œRun away? But why?” asked Suraj in a shocked voice. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
    â€œSo you’d rather stay here and be tortured?” snapped Tara.
    Suraj’s eyes filled with tears. “But where will we go? Who will look after us? And what if our real mother comes back? Will she know where to find us?’
    â€œWe’ll go look for Mother and Grandfather. My heart says they are still alive.”
    Tara reached out and pressed her palm against Suraj’s chest.
    â€œWhat does your heart say?”
    â€œThump thump.”
    Tara smiled.
    â€œThat is your heart saying they are alive. Now, listen to me carefully: we have only today to gather everything we need.”
    Tara gazed into space, making a mental list of the things they would need. A small hiccup roused her. Tearsstreamed down Suraj’s face and Tara put an arm around his shoulders.
    â€œIt will be safer than staying here. You trust me, don’t you, Suraj?”
    He nodded as a tear plopped into his tea. He wiped his face with his sleeve.
    â€œIf we leave at the first light tomorrow, we should be far away before anyone wakes up,” she continued, speaking more to herself than Suraj.
    Huddled close, they made a list of what they would need.
    â€œWhere will we collect our things, Didi? If we keep them anywhere in the house, the wicked witch will find them.”
    â€œI know what we’ll do. We’ll use a corner of Bela’s shed. Kali never goes there. I am the only one who cleans her stall, anyway. Gather your clothes, some rope, a lantern, and matches and hide them under the jute sack I’ll leave there. And Suraj, you must take extra clothing and stay dry at all times. You attract colds the way Dushta the money-lender attracts money.”
    They were so engrossed that they did not realize someone was towering over them till a voice boomed out.
    â€œWhat is all this whispering about, you little cockroaches?” said Kali.
    Tara and Suraj jumped.
    â€œWe were just talking about the ... uhhhh ... the ... rain,” answered Tara, standing up and shielding Suraj, hereyes steady as they met Kali’s.
    The staring match continued for a while but Tara did not flinch.
Good girl
, said the little voice inside her. Their escape plan had made her realize that Kali had just one more day to bully them.
    â€œMake some tea for your father and me,” commanded Kali.
    â€œMake it yourself,” said Tara in a defiant voice before she could stop her herself.
    Kali’s eyes widened in surprise. She stepped forward, her hand raised to slap Tara, when Shiv stepped into the room. Kali lowered her hand.
    â€œFather, can we go to the market today?” asked Suraj. “Please?”
    Shiv thought for a moment, staring out the window.
    â€œThe fields will be flooded today. If the rain stops, I’ll take you both,” he said, nodding in their direction. “Come sit down. I’m sure Mother will not mind making tea for all of us this morning.”
    He patted the floor next to him. Kali glared at him but said nothing. She turned to the fire, her lips set in thin lines.
    She will make us pay for this tomorrow,
thought Tara.
Kali is not one to let any show of insubordination go unpunished.