A Walk Across the Sun by Corban Addison Page B

do not need to see more.
    Save the other girl for another day. How much for this one? With no condom.”
    â€œCondoms are required,” Suchir replied. “You know the rule.”
    Shankar shrugged. “Rules are worthless. How much do you want?”
    Suchir seemed to hesitate, but then quickly conceded. “For a girl like this, sixty thousand, and only this time.”
    â€œSuchir, you drive a hard bargain,” Shankar said. “I came only with fifty thousand in bills.”
    â€œYou can visit the ATM,” Suchir rejoined. “The girl is worth every rupee.”
    Shankar stepped back. “Sixty thousand. I will pay you the rest afterward.” He handed a wad of thousand-rupee notes to Suchir.
    Suchir looked at Sumeera. “Take them upstairs,” he said. “And keep the other girl in the stairwell. It will be a good lesson for her.”

    While the men negotiated, Ahalya stood in a state of near paralysis. In the harsh embrace of the stage lights, she felt transported. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt a prickly sensation begin at the base of her neck and wind its way downward. She didn’t think of Shankar as a man. She imagined him as a ghost, a spirit from the underworld. A ghoul could not deflower her. Yet she knew the trick of her mind was foolish. He was a man like any other.
    When she heard Suchir’s directive about Sita, she looked up, horrified but unable to speak. Fear had absconded with the remains of her defiance. She would allow Shankar to have her so that Sita would learn not to resist. For resistance, she now understood, meant pain, and pain accentuated the misery of this beggar’s existence. After tonight, she would be awara , a fallen one. The bridge into prostitution had only one direction.
    â€œBolo na, tum tayor ho?” Sumeera asked her. “Tell me now, are you ready?”
    Ahalya nodded. She allowed Shankar to take her hand and lead her into the hallway. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Sita. As Shankar drew her up the stairs, she thought of her father. He had taught her that she was strong, that the sky was the limit of her talents, and that she could be anything she wanted to be. It was a beautiful idea, but illfated. She thought of her mother as Sumeera fluffed the pillows and lit a candle. Ambini had been gentle and dignified, a role model to emulate. They were dead now, both of them, their bodies strewn like driftwood upon the ruin of a beautiful beach. All that remained was jooth ki duniya , a world of lies.
    Sumeera left her with Shankar and closed the door. Ahalya stared at a spot on the floor, trembling. She could not bring herself to look at the man who had bought her. He approached her and lifted her chin until she met his eyes. He smiled at her as he unbuttoned his pants.
    â€œTonight is your wedding night,” he said and pushed her back on the bed.

    Sita sat in the darkness of the stairwell, weeping at the sounds of her sister’s violation. In her fifteen years, she had acquired little knowledge of carnal desire, but she understood the meaning of rape. When the sounds of Shankar’s pleasure finally ended, she heard her sister begin to cry. After a moment, Shankar appeared at the door and brushed past her. His eyes were glazed and his clothing was disheveled. He didn’t speak; he simply disappeared.
    Sita crept into the room. Her sister lay on the bed in a tangle of sheets, her churidaar in a heap on the floor. The candle flame cast dancing shadows on the walls. Ahalya’s eyes were closed and her forehead was hot to the touch. Sita kissed her cheek and knelt at the bedside. Sumeera soon appeared and led Ahalya to the commode. She washed her and clothed her in a loose-fitting nightshirt. Then she returned her to the bed.
    Sumeera spoke soothingly to Ahalya. “What you have experienced is difficult. The shame is natural. All feel it the first time. But you will survive. You will learn