Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Silence returned to the world, after the exuberant party of the previous night at Saint Luke’s Convent. The nuns returned to their quiet and cloistered lives. With the deathlike silence in the convent, one would hardly fathom that a boisterous party of such magnitude ever happened. The nuns’ faces wore their usual blank expressions. Reverend Grace too, was back to her usual prayer life. She was seen kneeling in the chapel, humming a soulful hymn and fingering her long, metallic rosary. Moses had returned to school and life was back to normal at the convent. But everything was going haywire at Frank Obie’s mansion. If the rain fell at the same time on the roof of everyone; it was not so with happiness. The sadness hovering over their lives does not look like something that would go away any time soon. Miriam was still trudging around the house with a sad face. Most nights she sat at the edge of the bed, with her jaw in her hand, sobbing silently. And whenever it seemed like she had fallen asleep, she would wake from a seeming nightmare, sweating profusely and clasping a pillow.

Frank on his part had been spending the nights on the sofa in the living room. And of late, he had been drinking a lot of alcohol. Of course, he loved his daughters dearly, but Miriam was obsessed with them. The thought of tearing them apart was filling him with fear. His mind was always travelling to the piercing words of the prophet that offering one of his daughters was the hard and only way. The prophet’s words were always preying on his mind. It was robbing him of sleep. Yet, in his pain and fear lay the solution to his utmost desire. Last night, he had lain on the sofa again, because he was overwhelmed with worry and the hangover of the previous night. When he woke from sleep and tried to climb the stairs, his head was throbbing with pain. He felt giddy, and steadied himself and climbed up the stairs. When he entered the bedroom, Miriam was sobbing and turning on the bed. He exhaled and stared at her. Miriam’s eyes were swollen and red, like a rat caught by the tail and dashed on the floor. He felt the pulse to reach out and console her. Still, he restrained himself. The seeming solution to their problem was hard for Miriam to bear, and brutally so. It was hard for him as well. But he was a desperate man; he needed a male-child and an heir. And sooner or later, he would be compelled to do something to change the status quo. If he does not, what other choice had he? He had no other choice, and choice cannot be practiced where there are no alternatives. That glaring truth was beginning to help to him make up his mind. He would do it. He would offer Martha to God in exchange for what he desperately craved. Still, making that decision and carrying it out was not a stroll in the park. There was the uphill task of convincing Miriam to support him. While Martha on her part, was the hardest to deal with. She was as headstrong as Miriam. Talking her into giving up her life, and all she was living for, and embrace the life of a nun was going to sound senseless and weird. It would never come on a platter of gold. But he would find the way to coax her. After all, she would be doing it for the family, and family no matter what, is always first.

Frank went over to the bed and sat close to Miriam and drew her into his arms. He placed her head on his hairy chest, running his hand on her curly hair. He raised her face and stared into her eyes, filled with deep-seated gloom.

‘Mimi,’ he called her. ‘What is the matter with you? Do you want to grow crinkles on your face overnight?’ he asked her. ‘You and I know we have the choice to do, or not to do what the prophet said. It’s not the end of the world.’ Miriam inhaled deeply from the pit of her stomach and sighed heavily.

‘That’s true. But on the one hand, you really want a son, and on the other hand, I want to keep my daughters. What then can we do? I am ...’ she stuttered, her voice trembling.

‘Shh! That’s all right,’ Frank hushed her, clasping her warmly to his chest. ‘You’re right that I want a son and that we also wish to keep our daughters. But one cannot eat his cake and have it. I think we should do what the prophet said,’ Frank said finally.

‘What are you saying?’ Miriam asked him in a shrill voice, as she broke free from his arms. Frank’s reckless words cut her like a dagger. ‘My daughters are not some goods that are to be exchanged for another.’

‘You speak as if they are not my daughters as well,’ Frank said. ‘Listen, you must understand that life is like a flowing river, if one does not make a quick decision, the river decides where one would go. My daughters are not goats and no one is selling them. We’re merely offering one of them to God. We are going to have a daughter that would be a nun. That’s great for us.’

Miriam scowled at Frank for some minutes, and then screamed at him.

‘Look how easy you make it seem! Look how you gloat over a son and it sounds sweet in your mouth! Why should any of my daughters have to take the brunt of my misfortune? Why should Martha or Jessie be forced to let go of their lives and dreams and embrace a life they never planned? Why should they be denied the joys of motherhood and the ecstasy of falling in love? I don’t support this and I never will!’ she finished, as scalding tears streamed on her face.

‘I understand what you mean. I really do. But you seem to have forgotten that many people like honey, but very few people like to deal with bees,’ Frank said, holding her. ‘Do you want us to remain this way? While a man may not like the taste on his lips; that may be where he is always forced to lick. The old man might be hale and hearty, but it does not mean he’ll live forever. We’ll grow very old someday and grey hair will sprout on our heads and face. We’ll run out of strength in our tanks, then the business we have labored to build will need an heir, a son that should take care of it and take care of us.’

‘And who said a daughter cannot do all these things?’ Miriam asked. ‘You’re whipping up sentiments to justify your failures, and I feel so helpless that I do not know what to think or say anymore. Why am I so unfortunate?’ Miriam groaned, speaking disjointedly, and collapsing in Frank’s arms. Frank held her tightly.

‘You must be strong and pull yourself together. One cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs. We can only give to God that which wounds our hearts,’ Frank said tearfully. Miriam’s love and solicitude for her daughters were extreme, and by her actions, she was making him look like a loveless father. He too, loved his daughters fiercely, but the decision he was on the brink of making was inevitable.

‘The son we desire will not come by merely desiring and speaking about it. We must take concrete actions. It’s not for nothing that we say that a roaring lion kills no game,’ Frank said in a grim voice. He paused for a fleeting moment and exhaled. ‘I’ve decided to talk to Martha about this. I’ve decided to ask her to sacrifice herself for the family. Please comfort yourself and cheer up, your wailing does not do us any favors. Rather, it’s making it worst and unbearable for me. If you know how to pound, then pound in the mortar, and if you do not know how to; then pound on the ground,’ Frank finished, as he rose from the bed and went into the bathroom.

Miriam lay on the bed, sobbing.