Tales from Beyond (continued)

The minutes ticked by, it must have been quite late because the late afternoon sun cast dark shadows over the bare room. It was only when the clock in the hall struck the hour of five that Sushma realized with a start that she had been sitting here for close on five hours! Five splendid hours of uninterrupted browsing. She felt stiff and tired, but elated and extremely hungry! she eased up from the cramped position and stood swaying for a while. She was only thirty five but felt strangely old. And then it happened again. The room was no longer bare. There were curtains in the window. This time they were of a strange checked design. blue and gold and heavy and yes, made of silk. It was thundering outside and the room was dark except for the warm glow of a lamp with a red shade. The furniture was different too. Heavy, upholstered sofa in the same design as the curtains, with matching chairs and a white cotton rug on the floor. The picture of the hunt was gone. Instead there was a landscape of hills, and snow and a cottage nestled among some tall coniferous trees. There was an old fashioned telephone, a black one. A woman sat next to it gaunt faced, and anxious, and spoke urgently into the mouthpiece. Then as suddenly the room was bare once more, and the evening sun lingered on the warm rosewood of the cupboard of books. Sushma shook herself. What was wrong with her? was she losing her mind? She was too tired and hungry to reflect and headed towards the kitchen. As she passed the living room on her way to the kitchen, she happened to glance at the portrait over the mantelpiece. She could have sworn that the eyes in the portrait were following her. Strangely, she was not afraid. Stranger things had happened and she wasn't going to panic. Her lunch was laid out on the kitchen table, now cold and unappetizing. She'd been too busy browsing and hadn't heard the maid call out to her perhaps. She put everything away in the refrigerator, and fixed herself a sandwich. She heated some milk on the gas stove as she chewed on the tasteless sandwich thinking about the events of the afternoon. Is this what people had warned her about? Flashbacks? Is that what they were? a glimpse into the past, into the lives of people who had lived in this house and were long gone? She shivered and decided she needed to get out of the house for a while. Perhaps a long walk would do her some good. Not a gregarious person by nature, she yearned for human company right now. She desperately needed some answers, needed to be reassured that her mental faculties were in order. She gulped down the warm glass of milk and let herself out by the back door in the kitchen. She found herself in a garden of tangled weeds and tall grass. It had once been beautiful like everything else about this house, now forgotton and neglected. There were roses on some of the vines. Blood red and fragrant they stood proudly defying the decay around them. Someone must tend to them she thought. There was a statue of a little cherub and what must once have been a little fountain now dry. An old bench sat under the old mango tree where green fruit hung in clusters by their long stalks. She sat on the bench and decided it made for a cosy scene. She realized the sun was low on the horizon and the shadows were getting longer. So much for the walk! Then she heard it. someone was sobbing! It was the same sound she had heard on the night of her arrival in this house. She followed the sound her heart thumping painfully. It wasn't easy to walk among the weeds and tangled undergrowth and she almost tripped. She cursed. As she rounded the corner she almost collided into something. Holding back a cry of alarm, she saw it was an old man shriveled and small. He wore a dirty dhoti and a worn shirt over it. He was painfully thin, with bowed rickety legs. His hair was snow white, unkempt and long to his shoulders. A long white beard raggedy and unwashed flowed over his chest. He was visibly startled and looked extremely scared. His rheumy eyes surveyed her briefly, and then recognition seemed to dawn in them. His cracked lips parted in a wide toothless grin. "Baby, aap aa gayi!" he cackled in hindi which translated into English would be "Baby, you're back!" Sushma stopped in her tracks. Baby? she knew 'Baby' was the general term used by servants for the little girl of the house. Sometimes even after she had grown up she remained 'baby' to the servants as she well knew from her childhood. Huh? baby? He was obviously mistaking her for someone else. Before she could explain, his eyes had taken on a blank expression. He muttered something in hindi and retreated into the woods like a mysterious gnome. She decided to follow him without intrusion at a distance. He walked through the woods muttering, and as she followed she saw a little hut on the outskirts of the property. There was smoke billowing out of the chimney and the housemaid who worked at the house was sitting on a charpoy outside sifting grain. Oh, so this must be the servant's quarters. but who was the old man? The old man entered the hut muttering to himself and the maid said something to him in a sharp, angry tone. As she saw Sushma approach, her expression changed from anger to one of fawning servility and her shrewd black eyes took on a guarded expression. (continued in next post)