Nemesis, p.1
Nemesis, page 1
NEMESIS
HELEN’S MOTHER
B. KARASINGHE ARACHCHI
Copyright © 2023 by B. Karasinghe Arachchi.
Library of Congress Control Number:
2023901755
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-8029-5
Softcover
978-1-6698-8028-8
eBook
978-1-6698-8027-1
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Rev. date: 02/24/2023
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CONTENTS
Introduction
Chapter 1 The Songs Of Serpents
Chapter 2 The Gifts Of The Devil
Chapter 3 Underfloor Skeletons
Chapter 4 Alyssa Does Not Lie
Chapter 5 Kōwhai Flowers On Beechwood Bushes
Chapter 6 The Doodle Book Of Charlotte
Chapter 7 Aroma La Florentina
Chapter 8 Visitors Unvisited
Chapter 9 Eyewitness Of The Blind
Chapter 10 Nemesis—Helen’s Mother
About The Author
Nemesis is long delayed sometimes,
but it comes in the end.
—Agatha Christie, Nemesis
INTRODUCTION
These are fictionalised versions of events I have seen over my long life.
One Saturday morning, a foreign couple knocked on my door, stood outside, and claimed that the house I lived in belonged to the woman’s father. I bought the house during a foreclosure process two decades ago. It was a cheap buy because I was able to use my position at a lending institution to my advantage.
I had a caveat over the property, but after hearing the couple’s tale, I realised it was unethical. My nemesis was in full swing. There was no escape for me. The story ‘Nemesis—Helen’s Mother’ is based on this event.
The main characters in other stories have similar issues in their lives. But they hide these secrets from others and lead a life of deceit.
Human qualities such as love, bravery, kindness, hate, and anger are used as deities in mythical stories. Nemesis is the goddess of justice in Greek mythology. She rewards anyone who does good and punishes those who do evil or receive unfair prosperity. No one can escape her wrath.
We use our conscience to judge ourselves. Our nemesis is nothing other than our own conscience.
I thank the editor, Barbara Unković, and the Xlibris editors for their enormous help that made this book a reality.
B. Karasinghe Arachchi
Hamilton, New Zealand
1
THE SONGS OF SERPENTS
Even paradise had its serpent.
—Alexandra Ivy
Sara blinked her eyes open. There was a noise outside the tight-lipped door. Someone wiped his feet. The stink of rotten cabbage sneaked through the entrance to the room, and its foul stench packed her bedroom. Sara clamped her eyelids shut as she waited for the noise to die and sleep to overtake her. Instead, the wind hissed over the metal roof like a serpent.
What the heck is going on? She looked up and around her. Is someone trying to open the door? Who is entering our space? she asked herself. ‘Victor!’ she called out.
Victor was her husband.
Victor was not in bed. His sheets were split in half, with one set piled on the floor and the other on the rug. She checked the time; 2.32—before dawn. It was an ungodly hour in the morning. Where had he gone?
‘Victor!’ she called him again. ‘Where are you?’
‘Victor!’ Sara screamed once more. Someone flushed the toilet. Victor came running.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘I . . .’ He paused for a second. ‘I just used the bathroom.’
‘Bathroom?’ she asked. ‘That noise . . . what is it? That smell?’
‘What do you think?’ Victor put his hand on her shoulder and helped her lie down on the bed.
‘What is that awful smell?’
Victor sniffed and looked at the door.
‘Nothing. You’re just tired,’ he said. ‘I know you overthink. Worried about nothing.’
‘Worried about nothing,’ she repeated. ‘Wish it was nothing.’
Victor’s eyes were riveted on her. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
‘What is what?’ She sighed and averted her gaze. ‘It just haunted me what your mother once said.’
‘What exactly was it?’
‘Singing serpents.’
‘Forget that nonsense,’ Victor said. ‘You worry too much.’
‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘Anyway, when is Janet leaving?’ Sara changed the subject.
Janet, the pregnant woman, slept like an unfinished crossword puzzle in the corner room. Her first child was due in three months.
‘After the child’s birth, she will finish the paperwork, hand over the child to us, and leave. In three months. It’s what she promised. The child is fatherless. We will adopt him. He will then be our child. It’s the law.’
Sara sniffed the air. ‘Still stinks. What is this? It’s like a bug crushed under the pillow?’ She gasped and flipped over the pillow and sniffed. ‘The stench of spotted vipers.’
‘It’s nothing. There are no serpents here. Please sleep,’ Victor said.
‘Who knows?’ she snapped. ‘Serpents are everywhere, in different forms, sometimes singing behind our backs.’
‘Come on,’ Victor said. ‘For God’s sake, forget the past. Janet is returning to her previous job in the Middle East. That is all.’
‘Young age with a nice figure.’
‘Yeah . . . so?’ Victor stammered.
‘Will she be safe there?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Snakebites.’ Sara sighed deeply. ‘She has lost her battle here, and then in the Middle East?’
‘She will be more cautious now.’
‘Very hard, very hard. Serpents can sting you at any time.’
‘T . . .’ he hesitated. ‘True,’ he said. ‘Now sleep. We will talk in the morning. I’m tired.’
‘People abuse young women everywhere, all the time. Isn’t that right?’ Sara asked.
‘Yes,’ Victor said. ‘Will you sleep now?’ He crept under the blanket. ‘When she leaves, that is the end of the story.’
‘Who knows?’ She sighed. ‘It could also be a start of another . . .’
Victor said nothing.
Again, the laughter of a male started somewhere outside the house, increased, echoed, and trailed off. Next, Janet began to snuffle.
‘Victor,’ Sara said again, raising her head, ‘can you hear it? Janet is making some unusual noises. Is she all right?’
But Victor was fast asleep.
‘Janet always snores while sleeping,’ Sara muttered.
The corner room was the most convenient place for Janet. She could use the bathroom, or call Victor or Sara if necessary. Victor had made all the arrangements for her to return to the Middle East when she was ready. It would be either Kuwait or Saudi Arabia. Victor was the only one who knew where she was going.
A child! Sara imagined. The poor thing would sleep clinging to her in the night. He would sing and dance, and throw his hands and feet in the air when he was happy. He would scratch his mother’s and father’s faces with his soft, needle-like fingernails. How sweet.
Sara stood up and listened at the door. Janet remained silent. A light breeze shook the leaves outside. Victor snorted, stretched his hands, curved his legs, and blew some more. Sara observed how broad his forehead was, how mature his features were. The broad jaws and well-dressed nose were very masculine. Could Janet’s child be like him? Sara thought that children took the shape of the person the mother liked the most. Who knows? There could be other reasons too for where a child got its appearance.
She opened the bedroom cupboard without disturbing Victor, took out the tiny white cardboard box she had hidden there the day before, and untied the rosy ribbon that had been wrapped around it. She smiled and kissed the teeny-weeny bodysuit and unfolded it. Then she kissed the small paper bag containing some plain stay-on socks from H&H Infants Girls, refolded them, and carefully placed them back in the bag. The rose-coloured beanie kept in a side pocket was very cute. She kissed that also.
Victor groaned and shook his body. Sara returned everything to t he box, placed it in the cupboard, and shut the door. It was motherly love, too far to reach. Soon, there would be a toddler running around the rooms, kitchen, bathroom, veranda, and lounge, drawing pictures on the walls with black and green chalk, hiding behind the doors, swinging, laughing, and singing. Victor wanted a boy, and she wanted a small angel to wear the cute shoes and ride in her hands.
Shoes, shoes, it’s time to wear your shoes
Yes, yes, yes, I want to wear my shoes . . .
The picture with a seaside scene that hung on the wall was from Sri Lanka. The image of the coconut grove bending over the seashore whisked Sara back to the start of her romance when she was a young schoolgirl. Sara and Victor had met at that spot; on, weekends they spent hours gazing at the sea. They were classmates at a village school in Galle, Sri Lanka. After graduating, they sought their parents’ approval to marry.
‘No,’ said Victor’s mother, Mary. ‘Daniel Silva is the best astrologer in the whole district. He says that Saturn in the fifth house of her horoscope means she will not have children. One of them will die within the first six years of their marriage,’ she said. ‘Do you think mothers prefer to see their sons perish at the hands of a witch?’ she asked.
Victor scoffed. ‘Can the millions of miles away stars in the sky decide what we do?’ he said.
‘Don’t chuckle. For many years, we have held these beliefs. Before I pass away, I want to see a child of your blood. After all, she is not the only woman in the world.’
But despite their parents’ opposition, they got married. By the fourth year, they had only a slim chance of becoming parents.
Mary paid them more visits and chastised them for not having children.
‘A barren woman is a curse. Send her back,’ she said to Victor. ‘The worst thing is her necklace,’ she said as she brought up another point.
‘What is wrong with it?’ Victor asked. ‘Genuine gold, 22 karats, handmade.’
‘It’s a pentagram. Three of the four corners are pointing to the ground. There is a serpent sign in the centre.’
‘So?’ Victor asked.
‘So?’ Mary said. ‘It is Satan’s symbol. Mistrust, death, and destruction. Curse to the family . . .’
‘A pendant with a sign of a serpent?’
‘Yes. Because of Saturn’s influence, people buy these items. Did you know these serpents sing in the dead of night?’
Sara sobbed in her bedroom as she listened.
When her mother-in-law left, she begged her husband. ‘Just divorce me. Now she’s having problems with my pendant. This is not the only pendant we have in the world with a serpent symbol in the middle. The truth is she doesn’t like me, not the necklace,’ she sobbed. ‘I’d never heard of singing serpents before.’
‘Who knows? But just ignore what she says. It is a piece of jewellery made of metal. Satan has a lot of other things on his plate. I’ll buy you a new pendant with a different design just to keep her quiet.’
Sara sobbed silently. ‘This is the pendant my mother gave me after bathing. I was only twelve.’ She kissed the chain and sighed.
‘In our communities, no one likes divorced women,’ Victor said.
‘Doesn’t matter. I will get used to it. There are hundreds of women like me. I am not alone.’
‘Nonsense,’ Victor said. ‘She says that Saturn kills the children you get. Isn’t Saturn better off than peeping into women’s bellies and murdering their children? Ignore this nonsense conversation. Most people believe serpents represent fertility or a creative life force. They represent rebirth, transformation, immortality, and healing. Don’t worry. We’ll face it together.’
‘She wants you to have your own children.’
‘I know,’ Victor said. ‘Unfortunately . . .’ He swallowed the last words. ‘We’ll go abroad. I have plans. I did an internet search. There are good treatment methods and doctors.’
A few days later, Victor kept his promise and bought Sara a new more expensive pendant with a different design. It had six corners and a lotus flower in the centre. ‘It’s a sign of Lakshmi, the goddess of fortune, a symbol of purity and loyalty,’ he said and smiled. ‘But no singing serpents,’ he added and then laughed.
His plan worked. They relocated to New Zealand within a few months. Victor found work as a teacher in Saint Heliers, an Auckland suburb.
‘We sold our house and all our properties, spent the money on fertility doctors, consultants, clinics, and specialists. It appears that they are simply confirming that Daniel Silva was correct,’ Sara said six months later.
‘Don’t give up hope,’ Victor replied. ‘We can adopt a child. A friend of mine knows a Sri Lankan girl in Hamilton. She is expecting a child, but she is not married. Her boyfriend has broken up with her. She wants to give up the child for adoption and return to her previous job in the Middle East. We will carry out the plan in complete secrecy. You are aware of how a fatherless child is treated in Sri Lanka. When we get the child, we’ll relocate to Invercargill. Nobody will ever know. It’s a nice city; you can see the real New Zealand there.’
The following week, Victor brought the girl home and introduced her to Sara. He addressed her as Janet.
Janet’s clinic day arrived. She woke early and changed her clothes. ‘I’m ready,’ she said as she knocked on Sara’s bedroom door.
Sara also prepared herself.
‘You are going through a lot because of me. I will not continue to be a burden to you for very long.’ Sara cleared the dinner table, while Janet relaxed on a chair nearby. ‘I’ll get out of here as soon as this is all over.’
‘I know,’ Sara said. ‘Don’t fret over anything; it will be fine.’
‘May God bless her a radiant soul.’ Dr Abdeen Ali had completed the standard checks. ‘In two months.’
Janet covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
‘Why are you crying?’ the doctor asked. ‘It’s a joyous moment. What a lucky mother.’
‘Yes,’ Janet said. ‘But . . .’ She glanced at Sara, stifled a sob, and started crying once more.
‘Next time, ask her husband to come and see me,’ the doctor told Sara. ‘It was your brother, you said it was, right? Why couldn’t he get the visa?’
‘Yes, Doctor, my brother,’ Sara said. ‘Not well. Can’t travel. But whether he shows up or not, we’ll still be there for her.’
‘Good,’ said the doctor as he checked something on the monitor. ‘Help your sister. God will look after you. He likes good work.’
‘Yes,’ Sara replied.
‘The dates are only estimates for you to plan around. Things may change.’
‘I know,’ Sara said. ‘We are available at any time. Victor will help us.’
‘Victor? Is that your child’s father?’ the doctor asked Janet.
‘Yes,’ Janet said as she looked away.
‘No. No,’ Sara said. ‘Janet is talking about my husband.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ The doctor smiled. ‘I had forgotten.’
They returned home. ‘It’s all happened. Please treat her as if she is your daughter. Teach her to call your husband Papa, the Sri Lankan way,’ Janet said.
‘I swear,’ Sara said. ‘Not Daddy, but Papa. The luckiest girl on earth. There’s nothing to worry about.’
Janet sighed. ‘Too many for us,’ she said. ‘One day, she will realize how unlucky mothers are in the world. Women are always vulnerable and weak. Then they seek safety in men, but they are the ones who destroy us. For most of us, either beauty or simply being a woman is a curse. Now’—she paused—‘there’s nothing I could do about it,’ she said to Sara. ‘No other option. I feel sorry for you.’
‘Why? I don’t understand,’ Sara asked as she narrowed her eyes. ‘Why would you feel sorry for me?’
‘Serpents. There are serpents everywhere. They sing,’ Janet said as she looked away. ‘We are fools. Get caught everywhere.’
