When Shanti arrived home, it was already dark outside. She noticed with surprise that there were lights on in the house. Ratan was home already. She had counted on his not being there. On the one night when she would have wanted him to stay out, he had come home for dinner! She felt weak and bedraggled and she had no idea how she could cope with his presence. She had not even been able to think out the full ramifications of what had transpired that afternoon. Every inch of her body ached from the horrible body-wracking positions she had been put through. Now, she couldn't bear the thought of looking at her husband's face. The very idea disgusted her.
She opened the door to the house and seeing that Ratan was in the living room looking at television, she tried to quietly make her way to the steps where she could get to the bedroom and at least attempt to get herself together before having to make dinner. But Ratan had been listening for her and he heard the key in the lock. He came to the living room door and called to her as she was halfway up the stairs.
"Hi, jaaneman! I'm home ... where've you been for such a long time?"
Shanti turned and looked at him. She felt like spitting in his face.
"I've been shopping," she said slowly, barely managing to control herself.
"Oh? What did you get? Where are all the packages?"
"Being sent. I'll be down in a few minutes to fix dinner," she answered and turned her back and continued up the steps.
Ratan stood watching her. Her round firm buttocks moved slowly as she climbed the stairs, and Ratan, still stimulated by his workout with Rani, felt the stirrings of his dormant member at the sight of them.
It had been a while since he had made love to her. She would certainly be ready for a little tonight, he mused as the provocatively swinging hips disappeared from his sight, and he turned and went back to watch the news on television. Shanti closed the bedroom door behind her with a sigh of relief and collapsed on the bed. She felt like she was having a nightmare of gigantic proportions. She lay still, hoping her nerves would stand the strain. Suddenly, she laughed when she realized that her mind was pondering what to fix for dinner, making a mental list of what was in the freezer. At a time like this ... she still responded with the same old reflexes. She laughed again bitterly and got up to run herself a hot tub.
The water filled up to the brim and she plunged her body into it with a groan. She lay motionless, letting the warm water caress her skin and slowly seep into her abused crevices. Her tears returned as she thought with fury of Ratan downstairs ... just sitting there looking at television ... waiting for her to cook him dinner, when only a few hours ago he had been talking sweet talk to that bitch Rani ... telling her how beautiful she was ... then kissing her ... making love to someone who was almost a stranger in a way he hadn't made love to her in a month!
Well, he could fix his own dinner, she'd be damned if she'd go downstairs and cook for him. She began to scrub herself vigorously.
She felt so helpless. If only there was something she could do. Divorce? No, but there had to be some way to bring him back to his sense, she thought. It seemed as if the whole world had gone crazy.
Her nipples smarted from the rigorous pinching and squeezing they had undergone and the delicate tissues of her vagina felt raw. Her stomach felt queasy at the thought of what she had gone through that afternoon.
After a long while, she stepped out onto the bathmat and toweled herself dry. She went to the medicine cabinet and took out a small brown bottle. She shook out two green pills and popped them in her mouth, swallowing them without water. She thought a moment, and took another pill. After putting on a warm nightgown, she creamed her face and got between the sheets of the
big double bed. She knew the sleeping pills would work almost instantly. That was what she wanted, complete oblivion, escape from the burning shame and anger that continued to taunt her. As she slowly slipped into unconsciousness; one final image of Ram Saran kneeling over her, his huge penis grasped firmly in his hand, filled the screen of her mind and then there was nothing but blissful blackness.
* * *
Downstairs, Ratan sat watching film clips of the war. The sound of mortar shells and machine guns filled the living room. He was sitting in his favorite comfortable chair, a gin and tonic at his side. He watched the jungle scenes, the killed and wounded men with an air of detachment. He was thinking about Rani and what she had said about his getting the Venkat account, if she had anything to do with it. At least that's what he seemed to remember her saying.
He felt elated. It gave him a real sense of accomplishment to know that he had made the right move when he followed through on Rani's first blatant pass at him at the party. Hot little number, he thought to himself. He wondered how soon she would call him.
As he downed his second drink, his stomach growled. H realized that he was starving ... where was Shanti anyway? She certainly did seem to act rather strangely when she came in. I'll bet it's because she hasn't had any in a while. Well, I'll see she gets some tonight! The thoughts passed through his mind as he fixed himself another drink.
"Shanti!" he called in the direction of the bedroom. "Shanti! What are you doing up there? How's about dinner?"
When he got no answer, he figured she was probably still in the tub making herself pretty for him. Well, he'd just have to have another drink and wait for her to come down.
As he sat back down in front of the television, his mind turned back to his obsession. Ever since he had been a young guy in college, he had decided that the world was made up of two kinds of people, the smart guys and the fall guys. He had set about to get to the top as fast as he could and by any means necessary. Now, he was just getting a taste of the rewards of that point of view. It was all beginning to pay off, and once he got this account, there would be no stopping him ... no more crummy jobs . no more fawning over agency big-wigs. There were quite a few eople he was going to have scurrying about for him once he got his promotion. He downed his drink and got up to fix himself another.
The television continued to blast out an incessant stream of
news which Ratan watched without paying any attention to what was
being said.
"Shanti! Shanti!" he called out. Where the hell was she, anyway? This was getting a little ridiculous now. He made a mental note to take a firmer stand with her. This was the first time he'd been home for dinner in days, and there was no dinner. He stood at the bar in the living room finishing off the last of the gin and then started up the stairs with a determined step. When he reached the top step, he noticed with surprise that the bedroom door was closed. He opened it and after his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, spotted Shanti lying face down on the
bed in a deep sleep.
Ratan approached the bed slowly, hardly believing his eyes. He sat on the bed beside her and shook her arm. But she made no visible sign of awakening. He shook her harder still ... and she moaned something incoherent and tried to bury her face in the pillow.