Page 46 of The Henna Artist

Ignoring him, Hari said to me, “You’re never home. I need you.”

“Money?”

“Yes, but—”

“I thought you’d found someone else to help you with that.”

He frowned, looking confused.

“Thatnautchgirl. Have you spent all her money, too?”

He waved a hand. “Oh, her. She—” He stopped and shook his head. “Look. I need your help with this.” He stepped aside. Behind him was a girl, smaller and younger than Malik. She had on a ragged, unwashed frock. No shoes. Her nose was running. Hari turned her, gently. I saw a gash on her right calf, oozing yellow pus.

“I put Maa’s poultice on it, but the infection only got worse,” he said.

I looked at the wound more closely but didn’t move nearer. “Who is she?” Then I glanced at Hari, surprised. “And what doyouknow about poultices?”

He sighed. “After you left, Maa needed help. At first, I didn’t want to help her, but when she got sick, she begged me to attend to the women who came to her. She taught me the same as she taught you.” He licked his cracked lips. “Here, in Jaipur, people also need help.” With care, he pulled the girl’s thumb out of her mouth. “She’s the daughter of one of thenautchgirls.”

Thirteen years ago, I’d known Hari to be a man who would do anything, say anything, to get what he wanted. There was a time, in the first year of our marriage, when I believed everything he told me. Hari would bring shepherd’s purse he’d gathered by the riverbank (“Look, Lakshmi. Heart-shaped, just for you.”). And one time, driedrudrakshaseeds. (“What a fine necklace they’ll make!”). At times like those, my heart would soften. Later, I learned the shepherd’s purse had come fromsaas’s supplies (she used it to treat malaria), and the guru passing through our village had left his prayer beads (made from the coveted blue seeds) behind. I would not be made a fool of again.

“How much this time, Hari?”

“Can’t you see? She needs—”

“How much?”

“She’s a child, Lakshmi.”

“I already gave you hundreds of rupees. Do you know how long I had to work for that? How much?”

He moved his jaw from side to side. His grip on the girl’s shoulders tightened, and she turned her head to look up at him. He shook his head at me, as if I had disappointed him.

I felt a pang of guilt then. If he was telling the truth, I was wrong not to help the girl. She looked like she needed it. Even if I found it hard to believe that Hari had changed enough to carry on Saasuji’s work, I owed it to the girl to do something. I knew my mother-in-law would have helped her.

I looked at Malik, and he let go of my arm. I went to the girl and squatted down to inspect the wound. The gash was deep. The skin around the wound was mottled red and pink and purple. I’d watched Hari’s mother use a disinfected thread and a superfine needle to close the skin, but I’d never done it myself. I suppose I could have tried to do the same for this little girl, but I felt unsure. I didn’t want the wound to get worse; I worried she might lose her leg.

“She needs stitches,” I said. “And disinfectant. And you must cover the wound after.”

Hari chuckled, a sound without joy. “Now that you’re working for the palace, you’re too good to help her yourself?”

I felt my face grow warm. For a decade, I had been healing the rich, only, for their minor, more emotional troubles. If I’d stayed with Hari, no doubt Saasuji would have gotten around to teaching me the more complex procedures only she practiced. I shivered as I imagined my mother-in-law regarding me with as much dismay as Hari was now.

He knew he’d touched a tender spot. “Even Radha travels in such fine circles now.” Before I could ask him what he meant, he said, “How much did the palace bursar give you?”

I looked again at the poor girl. A blameless child. It wasn’t her fault she was poor. I took a thousand rupees from the bursar’s payment and held them out to Hari. “You need to take her to the hospital right away. And get medicine.”

When he reached for the money, I drew my hand back. “A divorce, Hari. That’s my price.”

He squinted his eyes, then shrugged, as if it were all the same to him. I let him take the money from my hand and watched him pocket it.

“I’ll send Malik with the papers,” I said.

We looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.

He took the girl’s hand and walked out of the alley. The girl turned her head around to stare at me as they turned the corner.

“Hai Ram,”I said. I hadn’t even had the money long enough for it to feel real. Now I had even less to pay the builder.

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