Zebra Tears Read online

  Mother Doris was already kneeling with all the girls, so I ran to my bed and knelt down too. I prayed the words with my mouth while my heart was still wondering about Mina. Maybe Anna knew something about her family, because Anna knew everything. I attached my mosquito net, changed into my pajamas, and slipped under my sheet, trying to sleep. My mind would not stop racing with thoughts of Mummy and home, leaving Anna and Mina, and just anticipating the train journey home. I did finally fall asleep but was awakened by someone’s hand inside my net shaking me.

  I opened my eyes and looked out of the opening to see Mina standing there. It was so dark that I could hardly see all of her. I got out of bed to ask her what was wrong when she cupped her hands around my ear and whispered. Amongst her sobs, I heard her say she had forgotten to go to the bathroom after the rosary and had wet her bed. My stomach started hurting, as usual; Mina had been dry for so many months that I felt responsible for not having taken her there myself before lights out. I put my hands on her shoulders and quietly guided her back to her dormitory. I stripped her bed sheets and opened the cupboard that had clean ones. I quickly changed sheets and took her nightgown off. I opened her locker and gave her a clean change of clothes, while I decided to go to the bathroom and dump the wet ones into the Dhobi box. I tucked her in and saw her beautiful smile again.

  Mother Doris stepped out of the bathroom stall, catching me red handed at the Dhobi box. I was so surprised to see her that I dropped all the wet clothes into the box, letting the lid slam with a loud noise. I looked up at her now-approaching white gown, and her hand rose above her head. She did not say a word while her face changed into a terrifying, twisted look, the same look I had seen on Mummy when she burned my hands. Her cane came crashing down across my face and chest. I felt a welt the length of my face swell, while my heart leapt out of my mouth in a silent scream. I knelt down at her feet and covered my head and face with my arms, telling her I was sorry for disobeying her rules, but she continued whipping my arms with the cane.

  She still did not speak a word but grabbed me by my neck and forced me into the Dhobi box. She lifted the lid and, with the cane, motioned me to climb into it. I covered my head with my arms to shield it from the blows while I rolled over into the box. I was so glad when she brought the lid down over me, which stopped the cane stings. I buried my face into the wet sheets, when to my horror I heard her bolt the box shut. She spoke with such an evil, angry voice, “Now stay there till I come for you in the morning. If anyone comes in to use the bathroom, you are not to speak a word, or you will stay there all day too!”

  The heavy mesh covering the lid to allow air into the box was now tightly shut. I waited in silence listening to her footsteps disappear in the distance. I pushed on the lid with my back arched, hoping the latch would move and allow me to stand up. The suffocating smells from the dirty clothes grew pungent and attached to my nightgown, my skin, and hair. Not knowing how many hours had gone by, I felt my face and arms swell while my skin burned feverishly. I picked up the wet sheet and dabbed it to my face, to cool it down. I found I could not stretch my legs and started to panic. I kicked as many of the clothes to one side of the box, but they only ended over my head, making me feel as if I were being buried alive. I wanted to scream but could not in fear that I might attract the cane once more. I fought with the dirty clothes all night and finally passed out through exhaustion.

  When morning finally came, I heard Mother Doris undo the bolt and the lid flew open, with me jumping out like a Jack-in-the-box. I stood there up to my waist in smelly clothes while she lectured me about my rule-breaking. I had learned never to fight back since it only brought more pain. I got out at her request and knelt before her, saying, “Thank you, Mother, for the punishment. I deserved it.” She walked away while I ran to my bed.

  I picked up my basin and went to the wash wall, trying to wash my whole body in five inches of water. While I dressed for mass I got curious looks from the other girls. When Ava passed me on her way to line up, she put her hand to her mouth and looked at me with the saddest eyes. The concert was next week. How ugly I would look with this mark on my face, I thought. It didn’t matter that my arms were marked, but my face? I could never sing in public looking like that. Maybe Ava could sing, and I would stand behind the curtain to harmonize.

  Mother Doris was outside ringing the bell for the line up. I grabbed my veil and prayer book and ran to get in line. In church that morning I sat next to a very shocked Anna, who didn’t pinch me because she was afraid she might hurt me. She had tears in her eyes as she leaned into me, and I leaned back to acknowledge her. I knelt down very carefully to avoid the painful parts while I held my most precious cargo in my mouth. I found myself climbing up over my teeth, trying to reach my beautiful Jesus. He reached out His hand and lifted me into His arms, where I lay my tired head on His shoulder. It felt so good to just lie there while He rubbed my head and back in a soothing way. I lifted my head and looked Him right in the eyes, and then He spoke: “It will pass, Tess.” I hugged His neck and told Him not to let me go back; I wanted to go with Him. I felt so safe and warm in His arms that I held on so tight.

  “Please, Jesus. Don’t put me down,” I cried.

  Jesus sat down with me in His lap and said, “Remember, Tess. I am always with you, and I love you very much.”

  My eyes opened to Anna, helping me off my knees and smiling at me. I looked around and saw Mother Doris in the back of the chapel talking to Mother Superior. I was just glad she was far away, and I could whisper to Anna. I kept my eyes on Mother Doris while I told Anna briefly what had happened that night and how I wished I had died just then to go with Jesus. Anna patted my hand and rubbed my kneecap, the only place on my body that didn’t hurt, telling me that everything would be all right. She told me to come see her after breakfast, and she would put something on my face to take away the red marks and the pain. I felt better knowing she was there, and I told her so. I turned back to the front when I saw Mother Doris returning to her seat and knew the conversation with Anna had to end.

  “Anna, why does Mother Doris hurt kids so much? Does she hate us? Is she not supposed to be holy? Do you think Jesus will forgive her for hurting me?” I went on asking.

  Anna couldn’t answer any of those questions until I sat down and let her apply the salve all over my welts. She finally finished and said, “Mother Doris is answerable only to God for the way she treats the children. We need to pray for her to change, but even if she doesn’t, then God will take care of it. She was here at the convent when I arrived, and I think she was here even as a child, you know, as an orphan. The nuns took care of her, and when she finished school she became a nun. Mother Superior put her in charge of the kids because she had spent all her childhood as a boarder and had the experience.

  “Sometimes people become nuns for the wrong reasons, and I cannot tell you if it is because they are holy or not. Enough questions for now. Take my towel and wash up. You really smell sour.”

  “You know so much, Anna,” I said as I walked to her sink. “Do you know anything about Mina?” She busied herself by putting the medicine away and said her name aloud—“Mina”—trying to remember. “Mina is the little outcast.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Well, her mother was an Indian, and her father was an English soldier. He loved Mina’s mother but had to leave with his regiment when they went back to England but couldn’t take her with him. She told the nuns that he promised to come back for her and the baby someday. Her family would have stoned Mina’s mother to death if they found out that she was going to have a baby without getting married, so she came to the nuns for help. When Mina was born her mother went back to her family. In a way, Mina is just like Mother Doris, an orphan, and most probably, if not adopted, she will become a nun also.”

  I shivered at the thought of poor Mina ever becoming as horrid as Mother Doris. I said, “Anna, if Mother Doris was treated very badly when she was a border, does it mean that a
ll kids when they grow up treat others badly too?”

  “I don’t know, Tess. I think if you stay angry without finding a way to forgive them for hurting you, you might end up staying angry all your life and, in turn, hurt someone else because you believe that to be the only way. If Jesus can forgive us our sins, don’t you think we should forgive those who hurt us too?”

  I nodded and asked, “Anna, can I stay angry for a little while longer before forgiving Mother Doris?” She smiled and said it was all right.

  I looked into her mirror, saw the stripe across my face, and raised my arms to discover more stripes. Anna reminded me that Jesus was beaten a hundred times more but had no one to put medicine on His wounds. I hugged my Anna and told her she was my special angel, just like in the picture she gave me for my birthday, and would love her forever. I guess my tears were flowing, and she said she loved me too.

  “Now wipe away those zebra tear, Tess, and come see me after school.” I realized that I did look like a zebra and wondered how I would explain it to my friends, the day scholars.

  ***

  “Oh, Mom,” cried Becky, “I’m so sorry for the horrible time you had as a child. Now I understand why you never left us with anyone and kept us close to you. Thanks, Mom!” With that I got a loving hug. The next thing I knew the kids were all over me with hugs and kisses, thanking me for being their Nanny Nana while they grew up too. “I just had to change things for us,” I said, “and to make sure that my children and grandchildren never had to experience this type of abuse but just the opposite, with lots and lots of love. I’m so happy that you all turned out OK.”

  “Nana, when do you go home for Christmas in this story?” asked Vicky.

  “Soon,” I answered.

  “Can we go on then?”

  ***

  It was concert day at last. Day scholars and their families were arriving, while the nuns ushered them to their seats. Ava was playing all the songs she had learned to entertain the crowds, and frantic preparations were going on behind the scenes. Mother Virginia almost lost her headgear when she ducked under a low curtain rope, and with one hand on her head she tried to zip up the wings on a fallen angel. The orderly confusion made quite a humorous show itself.

  I hid in a corner of the backstage with a good view of all the performances. Ava and I were to end the show with our song. Mother Virginia finally approached me with a big smile and lifted my chin. She turned my head from one side to another, and I realized she was looking at the now-fading stripe across my face. She waved down a nun who was helping with the costumes and make-up and spoke in Latin to her. I guess she didn’t want me to understand what she was saying. I was given a complete facial that made me look beautiful, while the long sleeved white gown covered my striped arms.

  First, the choir sang praises in a medley of hymns, which was followed by the Nativity play. Mina was one of the angels and looked so adorable flitting about. Ava played the part of Mary, wearing a nun’s habit for her costume that made her look so beautiful. Ava was in quite a few of the plays and had her own personal nun to help her change into the various costumes. I sat on a tall stool through the whole show until it was nearly my turn. My stomach hurt a little, so I made my way to the side door and started breathing in the fresh air in big gulps. I was suddenly feeling too confined in one place and had to feel the freedom of the open air. I stepped out into the now empty hallway and peeked into the concert hall. I recognized some of my day scholar friends when they pointed to me to tell their parents who I was, I guess about how they had created the spice monster.

  I backed away in shyness and started toward the stage entrance when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, and it was Anna. She had seen me from the audience and wanted to come and wish me all the best. She hugged me and told me where she was standing and to look all the way in the back against the wall. She reminded me how wonderful I sounded and that Jesus was going to love His present. I hugged her back and snuck back behind stage. I went to the curtain and peeked and saw her walking past the other people without seats to lean up against the wall.

  Ava pulled on my arm to join her center stage. Our gowns straightened and faces touched up, we heard Mother Virginia introduce the last act and its author. A duet composed by Ava, age thirteen, accompanied by her sister Tess: “My Papa.” The curtain pulled away slowly to expose the ocean of faces. I took a deep breath and saw Anna wave to me. I kept my eyes on her, while in my mind I pictured myself dressed like the little drummer boy, trump-pum-pum.

  It was over as fast as it had begun. Parents in the audience with their children swarmed the stage to shake our hands. Some embraced us, some pinched my cheeks, and they were all over us. I broke out into a cold sweat. It felt just like being in the Dhobi box! They all smelled from their own brands of perfumes, which nauseated me. I fell to my knees and crawled for the doors from right between their legs. Ava enjoyed the limelight, while I thought, “She can have it!”

  The next morning Mother Superior called all the older girls into her office and handed them the tickets and schedule of trains. I had nothing to worry about: just be there when the bus leaves for the station.

  Anna found me sitting with Mina on the wash-up wall. She came and sat down next to us and handed Mina a cute cloth doll she had made. Mina did not take it but let it drop to the floor. I bent down to pick it up at the same time Anna did, almost bumping heads. We laughed and hugged while Anna took the doll and patted its head, made the doll jump on her lap and somersault by throwing it up into the air. I never saw Anna act so silly, but I also knew Anna never did anything unless it was for a good reason. I looked at Mina, who had developed a smile while watching the performance. Anna never said a word through all of this.

  I glanced at her as she captivated Mina’s full attention, then giving me a nudge to disappear. Anna was so smart. I made an excuse that I heard Ava call me and told them I would be back. I ran to my dormitory and peeked through the crack in the door. It looked like Anna was talking now, and Mina was responding with nodding yes and no. I was happy for Mina and felt peace of mind. I left them alone to go finish my packing.

  We had to roll up our mattress and empty out our lockers, because when we got back we might not have the same bed assigned to us. I had to put my basin on the bedsprings facedown so that the number could be seen. I remembered all the bubble gum stuck on the frame of the bed and started pulling them off; no telling what would have happened if Mother Doris saw that. I was now all packed and ready for our trip. In just a couple of hours we would be boarding the school bus to leave the convent walls to freedom!

  I went looking for Anna and Mina, who were not where I had left them. I knocked on Anna’s door, and Mina opened it. She was her old, happy self and had taken over for me. I looked at Anna, who was at the sewing machine, while Mina kept babbling about Anna making her new doll another dress. I patted her on the head and made a beeline for Anna. She stood up and held up the tiny blue school uniform for the doll. Mina squealed and grabbed it out of her hand. She sat on the floor and immediately started removing the plain white dress in exchange for the uniform.

  I put my arm around Anna and squeezed her tight. I had to whisper that it was time for me to leave and that I would miss her so much. She just hugged me back and whispered, “I won’t miss you.” She looked at my puzzled face and went on to say, “You can’t miss me if you remember me; it will be like I was with you,” she smiled. I hugged her again, bent down to kiss Mina on the top of her head, and slipped away. Once outside Anna’s room, I leaned back on the closed door. I took a last look at both ends of the hallway and walked under the bell. I jumped and touched it, making it ring ever so lightly. I smiled and felt that I had survived a year, wondering what was in store for me once we left the confines of the convent, even if for just a few weeks.

  How can I describe this giant of a man named Pasco? He was the convent’s bus driver and handyman, who took care of the school’s transportation needs. We never saw the bus pa
rked on the property and assumed he had it in a garage off site. I sat at the very back of the bus and looked out the window thinking I might get a last glimpse of Anna or Mina. I saw the few girls left behind waving to us, feeling so sorry for them. I wondered what Christmas would be like for them, alone, without a family.

  Some parents, a week before, had collected the rich girls who didn’t care if our Christmas concert was missed. I could not imagine the type of holiday rich girls had, but then Anna always said, “If you don’t know, you won’t miss it.” I understood now what she meant.

  I had never ridden on a school bus or experienced Pasco’s driving before that day. He thought he would have some fun with the girls and started weaving the bus to make us fall out of our seats. I was so scared that I clung to the side handle and braced my back against the seat by pushing my legs up against the seat in front. The girls were in a great holiday mood, singing and laughing at Pasco’s antics, increasing the celebration. I smiled and sang along while still seated, ready for a crash. “Please get us to the station in one piece, Lord,” I prayed, and then burst into a chorus of Jingle Bells. The school was out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

  We had arrived at the station so soon, nothing like the first ride in the dumni that seemed to have taken an eternity. I stayed on the bus with the other kids my age while the older ones, led by Pasco, handled all the compartment arrangements. The station manager gave Pasco three large signs that said Reserved to hang out of our compartment window. This would secure our compartments from intruders through all the stops with the aid of each station manager right on through to Bombay. Pasco came on board to make sure everyone was accounted for and to check that each compartment had a designated leader. There was to be no switching of compartments, as those were the rules set by Mother Superior. Still more rules, but these were sensible enough even for me.