A Time to Dance(77)

            only to find the room empty.


I look out the window.

            See a figure running up the drive.

            But it’s not Govinda.

            Govinda’s never late.

            Maybe he’s caught in traffic.

            Or—what if—

            A sickening fear slithers in the pit of my stomach.

            I pace the room for what feels like forever

            but the clock tells me is only ten minutes.


Akka enters the study.

            “Govinda’s on the phone for you.”


“Govinda, I was so worried!

            Thank goodness you’re all right.

            What happened? Where are you?”


“Veda, I’m really, really sorry.

            I can’t come today.

            My parents arranged for a tutor to coach me at home.

            He went on and on. We lost track of time.

            I should have called sooner.”


Pretending I’m patient,

            trying to be there for him like he always was for me,

            I hold back the anger

            that’s swirling up inside me like a dancer’s skirts.

            “It’s okay,” I say. “I understand.”





SEEING I





I catch Uma

            as she tries to run out the door after class.

            “Why do you always

            hide your face?” I ask. “You should take off the scarf

            and free up your neck.”


Her eyes fill with tears. “Please,

            don’t be angry.

            I love dance.”


“Then show us your face so we can see how much you love it.

            Dancers don’t hang their heads.”


Uma starts to turn her head away,

            but I cup her chin

            and her scarf slips a few inches lower.

            Enough to unveil her cleft lip.

            “I want to dance,” she says,

            “but I’m not pretty enough to show my face.

            Please let me keep my scarf.”

            Tears shine like diamonds caught in her thick, long lashes.


“Uma, you’re safe here. I’d never let anyone tease you.

            I promise you’ll feel graceful and beautiful

            if you dance freely.”


But Uma ties her scarf

            tight around her mouth.


Next class, Uma still hangs her head

            and dances, face half-hidden,

            looking as unsure of herself

            as she did on the first day.





PRESENT





I’m walking toward akka’s study

            for class with Govinda

            when akka meets me and hands me an envelope.

            “Something small, a little early—

            for your upcoming birthday.”


Stammering thanks, I drop the envelope, shocked.

            I didn’t know she knew my birthday.