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Ch-8: Dejavu

A gust of warm wind entered the home when Raesh opened the door. The darkness outside tried to creep in through the opening but shied back when Gande stepped at the door with a lantern in hand. The night relinquished a bite of land to the light, so Gande could see the stairs leading down the porch, but not any further. The rest of the world remained hidden in night’s thick veil.

“I’ll send some bread over with my younger,” Gande said raising the Lantern in her hand and peeking at the cloudy sky. “There is still some meat left in the pot; eat that if you grow hungry. And don’t let Noor lay in the same position all night. You wouldn’t want her to wake up with cramps, right?”

“No,” Raesh said, the light causing a hollow glint in his eyes. “We’ll be fine.” He added when the worried woman refused to budge from the door.

Gande sighed. “I know you will be; I worry for the boy.” She looked past him. Mannat was sitting at the table looking lost and dazed.

“He’s a tough boy.”

“That he sure is.” Gande agreed.

Raesh noticed her hesitation and braced himself. She had more to say.

“I don’t know where you plan to go to get help, but I hope you can give the Witch a chance.” Gande started, but the silence she received told her more than she needed to know. The man was decided. “Well, you have the whole night to decide.” She let out and went her way.

She wasn’t wrong, Raesh knew. He also didn’t think sleep would be visiting him that night.

He closed the door, and the two men were left alone in the cold, dark house.

The wooded floor cried as he walked back to the table and took a seat. He looked square at the young boy sitting across him on the other side, holding the cup of warm tea —not the one that his mother drank every morning, but something milder, much, much milder. He could see himself in the boy. Mannat had his chin and forehead but he had his mother’s zeal and curiosity, and that head of red hair…

Raesh clamped the cup of steaming tea in front of him and drank its content in a single breath. Right away, he felt a warm hand caressing his mind, but it was not enough. He needed something stronger. Before that, he had something to take care of.

Raesh sat back in the chair and cleared his throat. It got the boy’s attention and he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“The Witch,” Mannat let out without realizing and they both inhaled deep breaths.

“So you heard.”

“Can the Witch really help mother?” Mannat asked, his voice growing a pitch higher.

Raesh noticed him edging forward on the chair, and he didn’t like it. “So she said.” He said dryly.

“Then what are we doing?” Mannat sprung to his feet, ready to bounce. “Let’s go.” He shouted in high spirits, only to be put down by his father.

“You have to give me a chance, son. I’ll get help.” Raesh said.

Mannat noticed his clenched fists. He wanted to refuse but checked himself in the end there. He took a deep breath and sat back down on the chair. He had thought hard about his father and Gande’s conversation, and conclude that he knew too little. He had to know the whole truth. He took his time to calm his heart, not shying away from the silence that crept in between him and Raesh. He was lucky that his father didn’t simply leave. Raesh actually had been looking straight at Mannat since he had taken his seat. Mannat didn’t know what was on his mind, but his father sure looked determined. He understood emotions weren’t going to get through to his father. He needed to ask the right questions.

“Why?” Mannat said. “Why would she do that?” His voice shook, but he didn’t back down. “You said the Witch wanted something very important in return. I just don’t understand why you didn’t agree. How can there be anything more important than her life?”

Raesh rapped his fingers on the table, growing thoughtful. He deliberated what to do. The secret was no longer a secret. Mannat already knew half the truth; it was only a matter of time before he went to see the Witch. He couldn’t detain Mannat, either. That would defeat the purpose of protecting him. So Raesh decided to tell him the truth. It was the only option.

“You can be pretty foolish sometimes, you know,” Raesh said quietly. “The Witch wanted you. She said she wanted to play marbles with your eyes, cook your flesh, and gorge on your still-beating heart. Your mother--” He stopped rapping on the table and laid his hand flat on the table. A moment later, he tapped twice and stood up. He was done.

“Anyways, drink tea. It will calm your heart. I’m going to sleep. I’ll be leaving early next morning. So don’t disturb me.” Raesh said, picking up his empty teacup. The conversation had gone surprisingly well. Now, where did he keep that bottle? Ah, yes! It was behind the dresser in the room.

Mannat sat in astonishment as his father picked up his cup with one hand and a chair with the other. A warm wind greeted his cheeks as Raesh passed him by and disappeared into the dark corridor. Mannat heard the door open and close and that was that. He was all alone, and his mind a mess. Everything finally made sense, but now he had a headache because he could no longer blame anyone. His parents were only trying to protect him. He didn’t know where his father was planning to go, but--

He drank the tea and it did help soothe things out. Turned out it was a sedative, but not as light as his father had suggested. Slowly the worries disappeared from his mind and he fell asleep on the table.

Pandit returned half an hour later to find the front door wide open and Mannat flat asleep on the table with his tongue hanging out. The dirty cups and bowls were still on the table. His face had fallen between a cup and an empty bowl.

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He let out a snort and said, “Now what?”

He did want to go back, but he couldn’t leave the house looking like a dump either. His mother would be the first one in next morning, and she would make his life a mess if he left the house in such a mess.

Groaning, he cursed Mannat a few times before picking the utensils and taking them to the kitchen. Did he also need to wash them? Did he have a choice?

Mumbling curses, he picked a small stool and sat down to wash the utensils. His only reprieve was in knowing keeping a house clean was easier than keeping the butchery clean.

It took him some time to get through the bucket full of dirty utensils. He released a sigh when he was done. Standing up he picked up the bucket of dirty water and was about to turn when Mannat screamed at the Gods and fell out of the chair with a loud thud.

The bucket almost flung out of Pandit’s hand and undid all the work he had done. Thank God, he managed to hold it in the end, or he would have definitely lost his mind. Pandit carefully put the bucket down, and then went outside to see what was happening. He was hoping to go back to sleep but guessed the night was not definitely not done yet.

Mannat was already up and picking up the fallen chair when Pandit reached him.

“What happened now?” He asked in a mix of anger and disbelief. Who knew what was going on in Mannat’s head at the moment, and surely he was surprised when the boy said, “Let’s go see the Witch.”

Pandit froze for a second, a thousand things going through his mind. Then suddenly, he turned around and brought the bucket from the kitchen. He wanted to be done with this.

“What are you doing? What is that?” Mannat asked sounding apprehensive. His mind was clear, senses focused. He had never been so calm before.

Pandit answered as calmly as possible, “I cleaned the kitchen”

Maybe he sounded guilty? Whatever the case, Mannat didn’t like what he heard. “What did you do?”He snapped.

“This boar headed—” Pandit started, but quickly realized something was wrong. He pointed at the lantern and asked, “What is that?”

Mannat looked. “Why are you suddenly being nonsensical?”

“Just answer me.” Pandit pleaded aggressively.

“A lantern,”

“And what’s inside it?”

“Fire,” Mannat announced and crossed his arms.

“Not a star?”

“Are you all right, friend?” Mannat looked at him concerned.

Pandit almost threw the bucket at him, but controlled the urge and calmed his mind. It helped that the bucket was relatively heavy to swing. But wait, if Mannat was now fine, which was a little difficult to wrap his head around because his brother… he looked at his suddenly anxious friend and decide to stop comparing the two.

However, if Mannat was no longer high, then what was this about the Witch?

“Are you going to explain your thought, or should I leave now?”

Mannat looked around; as if afraid, someone was eavesdropping. Making sure that no one was around, he came closer to Pandit and got right into it. “I heard our parents talking. And they said the Witch can heal my mother.”

“That’s great news!” Pandit exclaimed before realizing something important. If the adults knew the Witch could help then what was the delay?

“I don’t understand,” Pandit said honestly.

“The Witch wants me in return,” Mannat answered truthfully.

Pandit's eyes opened wide. He wanted the boy to tell him the whole story, but Mannat told him to wait so he could tidy up. So one thing led to another and Mannat came clean to Pandit while they tidied up the lobby, and themselves.

“No wonder your father doesn’t agree,” Pandit said. He lay flat on Mannat’s bed with his feet and head dangling from the sides, while Mannat fondled his cloth trunk in search of a thicker set of clothes to meet the Witch.

“I don’t think they understood her intentions. The Witch is—”

“Out of her mind,” Pandit supplied.

“Perhaps,” Mannat didn’t deny. “But I think she deliberately said those things knowing they would get my parents off her back. I think she’s just doesn’t want to work.” He looked up from the chest and asked Pandit, “You remember what she told me when I got lost in the woods?”

Pandit sat up straight on the bed, intrigued. “Was that not a nightmare?”

“I know what I saw.” Mannat snapped back. “Do you think the Witch couldn’t have taken me then if she really wanted to?”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying this time is no different. She can’t kill me, lest she makes it look like an accident, but both you and our parents know the truth. Will the Sarpanch let her live if she ate me?”

“No way. My ma won’t let the matter die until she is hanged. ”

“That’s why I think the Witch is bluffing.” Mannat closed the trunk and stood up straight with the clothes in his hand. He was naked. Pandit let out a snort upon seeing the small thing hiding between his legs and fell back onto the bed.

He could see the sky outside the window from where he lay; he only needed to tilt his head back. The sky was starting to clear outside. There were already a couple of stars visible twinkling behind the moving clouds. He extended a hand in front of his eyes and closed a fist, wondering if it was possible to hold the sky.

“Do you believe me?” Pandit heard and sat back up. Mannat was no longer naked —thank god. The clothes weren’t gaudy, but simple dark brown pants and a baggy full-sleeved beige shirt. They were new clothes, and the boy’s green eyes and red hair really added a charm to even the set of common apparel.

“You look good.”

“Thanks. These are mother’s gift. She told me to wear them on my thirteenth birthday.” Mannat said tidying up -- closing a button here, tightening the string there. Then he looked straight at Pandit, held his eyes, and said, “You know about the thing—”

“I believe you,” Pandit said standing up. “Tell me what to do.” How could he say anything else? There was only one answer to the question. Especially, after Mannat had so confidently told him the Witch’s plan to eat him.

Surprisingly, a frown grew on Mannat’s face. “Shouldn’t you resist more?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No…” Mannat said scratching his chin.

Pandit snorted. “You can be an idiot sometimes, you know?” He said getting up and crossing him, not noticing that Mannat’s frown had grown deeper. Had he looked, his confidence in his friend’s ability might have taken a little stumble. It was a good thing he didn’t look.