Sunday short story

by Rukmini Attygalle

Three octogenarians sat at one end of the dining table, poring over a scrabble board. They had initially met at SRC (Seniors Recreational Club) before the Corona virus pandemic hit Sri Lanka. Jenny and Wimala had been members of the club for several years; Ramya had joined a few months before the lockdown. Although Ramya didn’t know these two ladies very well, and had played cards and scrabble with them only a few times, she felt that they “clicked” together quite well. They had shared a cultural background, all three of them born in the 1930s and had lived and schooled in Colombo, and had many friends and acquaintances in common.

Reminiscing about the “good old days,” they were thrilled to discover, that all three of them had been at the Savoy Cinema on the opening night of “Rock Around the Clock” in 1956, and had actually joined in the rocking and rolling inside the cinema hall.

Once the Covid restrictions were lifted, the three ladies decided to meet once a week to play a game of cards or scrabble to keep themselves entertained. Today, Ramya was the host.

“It’s your turn Wimala” Jenny picked up a manioc chip from the bowl.

“I have only one vowel!” grumbled Wimala. She hesitated, and then added the letters E and S onto the word ‘DITCH’ already the board. “DITCHES” she said “the best I can do under the circumstances”.

Soma, the home help bustled in with a jug of lime juice. She always liked to make her presence felt. “Would the ladies like to have some patties Madam? We have some in the freezer which I can quickly fry.” the question however was directed more to the guests, than to Ramya.

“No thank you Soma. We are fine with these manioc chips” the ladies chimed in.

Soma was efficient and well organised. Ramya who had been a working woman all her life looked forward to a relaxed stress- free retirement. She was quite happy to relinquish some of her authority to Soma. Realising this, Soma had quickly assumed the role of “advisor to madam on all household matters”. She ran the house without actually being asked to do so.

Soma hovered for a few minutes trying to make eye contact, looking for an opening to strike up a conversation with the guests. Disappointed with the ladies’ absorption in the game, she left the room saying “if you need anything just call, I will be in the kitchen”.

Along with the scrabbling, the conversation flowed easily between the three, often harking back to ‘the good old days’.

“What a world we live in today!” exclaimed Wimala. “The pandemic was bad enough. These politicians don’t know what they are doing and our country is going to the dogs”.

“Queues are now the order of the day. People queuing up for gas, petrol, milk powder. Very soon we will be queuing up for our essential food items too!” added Jenny as she passed the cloth bag containing the letters to Ramya.

“It is already happening Jenny – There is a shortage of money and food! Some people are having to cut down on meals. A three-wheel driver I know, was telling me, that he and his wife have only one proper meal a day so that they can keep their children fed. There are others who are even worse off. Their situation is becoming desperate!”

Ramya added the letters D, E and S to the word ‘PAIR’ already on the board. “DESPAIR – not a great word – but at least it reflects the current situation!” she smiled as she shrugged her shoulders.

The three ladies were getting on very sociably, chatting away, and Ramya felt happy that they had decided to meet on a regular basis. The good old days of course was their favourite subject of conversation.

The doorbell rang. First a short buzz followed by a longer one. It was Ramya’s turn again, and she, busy trying to find an appropriate word, did not respond to the ringing straight away.

“There is someone at your front door Ramya. Are you expecting anyone? Aren’t you going to answer the bell?” Wimala was surprised at Ramya’s nonchalance.

“No… I am not expecting anyone. Must be a beggar. Soma will see who it is”.

“A Beggar?!” both ladies exuded shock and disbelief in unison.

“You are joking!” said Wimala trying to discern a trace of humour in Ramya’s facial expression or demeanour, but didn’t find any.

“No, I am not joking. That is how they announce their arrival these days.” Ramya’s statement was matter of fact and calm. Her nonchalance irritated her two friends. Ramya continued to survey the scrabble board though she did notice from the corner of her eye her friends’ exchange of glances.

“Blooming cheek!” emanated from Jenny’s heavily painted lips, while Ramya surreptitiously wiped her elbow which had received a light spray of spit. “What is the world coming to, beggars ringing door bells!

“You should not tolerate such nonsense, Ramya!” Wimala reprimanded. “You should just put these beggars in their place; not encourage them to ring door bells! “

“Sheer insolence! Totally unacceptable. Such a things never happened in those days”

“Soma should tell the beggar to get lost. Ringing the doorbell! Who does he think he is? “

Ramya was not amused at her friends’ reactions, but maintained a dead pan expression and ignored their comments.

“Wow! I found a super word. Jenny, I am going to add to your word ‘NOB’ and make the word ‘SNOBBERY’, and my ‘Y ’covers the triple word score too.” She looked furtively at their faces but they were too busy trying to figure out how they could use the new letters that appeared on the board to their best advantage, and did not seem to pay much attention to the actual word she had made.

Soma walked in to the room with the information that “It is that same beggar who came last week also,” annoyance stamped on her face.

“There is some money in the blue bowl by the phone. Give him a hundred rupees Soma.” Ramya was passing the dish of chips to Wimala and did not look at Soma’s face; but she knew that rolling up of her eyes would have occurred.

She did not look at her friends’ faces either, but the vibes of disapproval were pretty strong.

“What can you buy with hundred rupees these days?” she said as an explanation, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted it. Why in heavens’ name should she try to justify her actions to anyone! Even if she gave a thousand rupees it was her business and not anyone else’s!

“Soma!” Ramya raised her voice. “Give the man two hundred rupees. Did you hear?”

Soma’s reappearance in the room was instantaneous. “What is this madam! You gave him last week also!” She looked to the two ladies for support. She was disappointed with mere grim looks, pursed lips and in- takes of breath.

“Just give him two hundred rupees okay!” Ramya was polite but firm. Soma looked at Ramya with surprise, backed down, and left the room.

“Is it your turn Jenny?” Ramya was trying to get back to an even keel.

“No, it’s Wimala’s” Jenny snorted. “Thankfully beggars do not announce their arrival by ringing door bells in our area” the sneer in her voice was palpable.

“They do It is because some people let them get away with it” Wimala chose her words clearly

Ramya ignored the caustic comments; refused the bait, determined not to react.

“Chop chop Wimala. Hurry up. I can put down a good word provided you don’t spoil it for me.”

She was making an effort to be cheerful, trying to dispel the acrid atmosphere that was building up.

Wimala was determined not to let Ramya use the triple- word- score square which she guessed she was eyeing, and successfully blocked it. “Oh dear!” Ramya said, good- humouredly. “I’ll have to look for another opening now”.

Soma was back. “That man is now asking for food! After taking two hundred rupees also! Says he is hungry! I told him to go away but he is still there hanging on to the gate.” Her eyes flashed with indignation. Face muscles trembled. She was furious.

The two ladies shifted in their chairs in obvious discomfort. The events taking place was completely out of their comfort zone. Ramya’s inability to take control of the situation – putting people in their proper places – was creating unnecessary problems.

“So, give him something to eat” Ramya said calmly trying to placate Soma. “Then he will go”.

“What is there to give? I haven’t even started cooking!” barked Soma.

Ramya was beginning to lose her cool. “Surely there must be something you can find in this house that we can give a man who is hungry? Some left -over food from the fridge or even a few slices of bread!”

Soma stood her ground determined and obstinate “No there is nothing. Anyway, if we give him something to eat you can be sure he will be back tomorrow. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you!”

“Then give him a packet of biscuits from the cupboard in the pantry.” Soma was taken aback by Ramya’s tone of voice. Ramya noticed the dropped jaw and the widened eyes but ignored it. Yes, it was time Ramya took control and showed Soma who was boss. Soma left the room with no comment which was surprising, and Ramya returned her attention to the scrabble board.

There was a wicked gleam in Jenny’s eyes. Her lips twisted into a sarcastic smirk as she turned her face towards Wimala “Does Marie Antoinette come to mind? Give them cake if there’s no bread?”

Wimala broke into giggles. “This situation is turning into a comedy – bell ringing beggars being treated with packets of biscuits! Chocolate biscuits perhaps?” The sarcasm stung, but Ramya feigned indifference. “These things happen only in the up-market areas where the posh people live.”

Ramya’s amiability was ebbing and she sensed the anger welling up from deep within her. It was beginning to transmit catty messages to her brain. However, she bided her time waiting for the best opportunity to pounce. She was in control, and in no hurry. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, and calmed herself.

She joined in their laughter, although she was seething inside.

“Actually,” she said slowly, casually, “I am glad that the beggars who come here do ring the bell you know. It is better than the cacophony they used to create, with laud proclamations of their tales of woe…disturbing the whole neighbourhood! Ringing the bell is much more civilised.” She paused awhile, and taking her own time, added her scrabble word on to the board.

“I am surprised though, that they don’t ring your door bells!” she continued. “Perhaps, they feel that in the ‘up market areas’, as you put it, they should reciprocate the civility shown to them by behaving in a like manner?” A dead silence followed. Ramya was gleeful with the way she managed to deliver the vitriolic comment with seeming innocence.

She imagined – with amusement and delight – how the two would act once out of her sight.

“Who the hell does she think she is? How dare she insinuate that she is more civilised than us?”

“That bloody woman thinks no end of herself!”

Ramya swallowed a giggle and suppressed a smile. Yes, the two old biddies had been quite right. Some people needed to be put in their places!

The scrabble game was coming to an end. Wimala finished first, putting down all her letters on to the board, and began adding up the score. “Minus 4” said Jenny as she put down her unused letters on the table. Ramya had a single letter B left in her hand. As she said “Minus 3 for me,” she noticed the word DITCHES on the board. The game was over of course, but just for the fun of it, she picked up the letter D off the board and replaced it with the letter B in her hand, to make the word BITCHES. No one noticed it, but Ramya was triumphant.