Rani's note: My husband's story is true as he knew it. When I was twenty-two, after one of his visits to do business with my Father, I could stand it no longer, and decided I must catch him for my husband. I bought a potion from the village chemist to put into his food, that caused his illness, and thus forced him to stay many days at our family home. It frightened me how sick he had become at my hand. My guilt was unforgiving, and as I nursed him back to health in endless subtle ways I let him know that if he would take me I would gladly be his wife.
Dernil's note: So many years have passed since that fateful visit to the village. My young wife and I have been happy, more happy than any other married couple I know. As the end of my life nears, I thought to write down this story, so incredible that I doubt that any man would believe it.
I sat at the Faslan family dinner table. Esto Faslan, my friend and business partner, sat at the head of the table, and I sat in the honored guest seat by his side. His three beautiful daughters, Kumila, Rani, and Sonali sat near, and Esto's devoted wife Argili sat at the other end of the table. Kumila's husband was not joining us this night, but Kumila's two older children sat fidgeting amidst the grownups. Kumila had just returned to the table, having nursed her baby in the family room and put him down to sleep.
I had known the Faslan family for a number of years, had seen Esto prosper in his business dealings with me, and had seen their lovely daughters grow and blossom into womanhood. Kumila, the eldest, was twenty-eight. She had gained a little weight during her last pregnancy, the plumpness lending her a voluptuousness that from time to time stirred my desires. Rani had just turned twenty-three in the last month. I had timed my visit to Esto nearly two months early, so that I might have the pleasure of handing Rani a birthday gift whilst she was still fresh from the family celebration. Rani had shrieked with delight when I handed her the package, and wrapped her delightful body around me energetically and perhaps with a bit too much affection. Sonali was just nineteen, still carrying a little of the baby fat, and enjoyed her role as the baby of the family. Even now she was perched on her father's knee, eating from his plate at the table, her arm about his neck, and Esto's arm cinched tightly around his daughter's waist. "There now, Sonali, do not eat so much! I am hungry tonight, and you need to stay slim to convince one of the village boys to marry you!"
Argili called out to the kitchen, and one of the helpers brought around the main meal servings. As the plates were laid on the table in front of us, Rani and Sonali broke out into a heated argument. Sonali's plate had a freshly plucked orchid, with which Sonali had taken a romantic interest. She wondered which boy had bribed the kitchen help to put it on her plate. Rani, blushing deep red, handed her dinner plate to Sonali, picked up the plate with the orchid, handed it to me, and took my dinner plate for herself. "Excuse me, Mr. Dahlitt, and excuse me my Father and Mother for my manners. I placed the orchid on Mr. Dahlitt's plate, as a thank you for my birthday gift." The adults laughed heartily, and Kumila shook her head at her younger sister's impertinence. Rani burst into tears, grabbed her napkin, and fled from the table. "Youth!" Esto laughed.
The meal was delicious. When it was time for desert, Rani reappeared, helping to serve the dishes to everyone. She had dried her eyes, and looked at me sadly. I told her that while I had to leave in the morning, I was certain to visit again in the next six months.
No sooner had the words left my mouth than an odd cramping began in my stomach. Esto and I shared a few more words. He looked at me curiously, "Dernil, my old friend, do you feel alright?" In fact, I felt suddenly awful. Perspiration broke on my face, and my whole gut felt as if it was trying to find a way to leave my body.
I shook my head, "No. Esto, I must go lie down." I pushed away my chair abruptly and staggered up on my feet. The whole table was in a panic. Mr. Dahlitt is ill! I clutched my belly and swayed, having trouble now to focus on anyone or even hear the words around me. Never have I felt such a complete state of misery. Esto and Kumilla took me between them, and led me to the back of the house. There were three bedrooms, the parents, the girls (Rani and Sonali, now that Kumila had left home) and the guest room. Unfortunately, Kumila's children were occupying the guest room. Esto wanted to put me in his own bed, but Argili said it would be better if I laid in the girls room. It was cooler there, and by the looks of my face, I might have a fever.
Of the next few days I do not remember anything, except in the dim room Rani wiped my forehead with a cool damp cloth. Gradually the sickness passed, but I was weak for many days. At night, Rani and Sonali slept on the mat with me, sandwiching me in the middle between their warm bodies. I was so sick I could not imagine any of the normal male thoughts in such a situation, only that I was grateful not to be alone.
Mornings Rani and Sonali would get up, stretch, and chatter between themselves. The village had no plumbing in those days. They would argue who should go to the well. I slept frequently. I could lie there listening to them washing themselves by the window, doze off, and then awake again to have Rani shaking my shoulder trying to feed me lunch. And so it went, I would wake in the middle of the night, and lie intoxicated by the scent of the girls' skin and the softness of their pajamas as they carelessly laid a limb or two across my larger body. Then sleep, and wake and sleep, there was Rani sitting in the morning light, catching the sun's rays between her knees, plucking the hair from her lovebox. And sleep, and wake. Sonali brushing her hair by the mirror, wrapped in a skirt, but no top. She saw my eyes on her in the mirror, but did not turn or stop. Then sleep again, and wake, Rani trying to feed me, I did not feel like eating, but I took a few sips of cool fruit juice. And sleep and so on.
A doctor from the nearest town finally came by to see me. I fell asleep while he was still examining me, and then woke later to an empty room. Rani came in, with a small serving dish and spoon. She knelt by me, her hair falling about my face, so we looked at each other in a tunnel. Mr. Dahlitt, sir, the Doctor left instructions and medicine. You must eat this spoon full each day to regain your strength.
I had managed to start eating the mildest of foods again, as well as fruit. The smell of the medicine was not pleasant, and I could not manage to swallow it. I fell asleep, with Rani pleading with me, "Mr Dahlitt, sir, please take this medicine. Oh, please, Dernil ..."
The house was quiet, and well lit. Most days the family left for business or visiting their neighbors or nearby villages. Throughout my recovery Rani was the one constant, she oversaw everything. I have hazy memories of her washing me completely, how refreshed I felt after her care. She came to me again, "Mr. Dahlitt, Dernil, please you must take this medicine." I refused, not to be difficult, but because I could not imagine swallowing it. "Oh Dernil, you must take it. The doctor said I must have you take it, you need it to get better. He said I should try anything. What should I do? Oh Dernil, here, please open your mouth."
It was no use, I was tired and fell asleep again. I woke in the warm afternoon light, Rani wiping my forehead with a damp cloth. I kept my eyes closed, but I could tell from the rustle of her clothing and the change in her movements that she knew I was awake. She wrapped her arm about my head, and leant toward my face. Something firm brushed my lips. Through slitted eyes I saw that she had removed her top, and was pressing her nipple to my mouth. "Ah, Dernil, you must try!" she whispered. It sounded as if she were going to burst into tears. I opened my mouth, and began to suck. "Ah, my Dernil, that is better!"
