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Then she did a double take as thechild had found a pen and paper, with a look of concentration it was asit seemed scribbling but it was writing in a childish script. It wasthree words and the words burned into her soul the further mystery ofthe lack of the presence of Simon was possibly answered. 'IT ME SIMON'it read and Rachael looked at the shaky script and she burst outlaughing. The infant looked furious and punched a tiny fist onto thecar seat, then she started to cry as the pain of the blow hit her hand.Rachael picked the child up and looked into the eyes that met hers,they were a baby blue. She then made crooning noises to calm thesobbing infant."Is it you for real Simon?" The child nodded and that caused Rachael tolook deeper into the child's face. She saw the marks of the regular ofher bar on the face. It was the face that would have been of anydaughter from his genes. She had considered asking Simon to move inwith her as he seemed a good person and she realized that, she. We were a large family of eight brothers and sisters.My mother remained perpetually sick with asthama and other problems and was mostly bed ridden. The household work was done by an aged maid servant who used to stay inhouse. We used to call her amma(mother). Amma’s husband was a frail looking man who worked as a gardener cum watchman in a bungalow about three kms from where we stayed. Amma would go to visit her husband on altenate Sundays . I would generally accompany Amma on her visit to her home which was a dark and dingy room which smelt of burnt pine wood. Mostly, amma would ask me to play with the dog while she and her husband would remain inside their room and they would rest on ammas insistance. A couple of times when the weather was bad I would sit in the room itself while they rested. Amma would give her husband a massage and would straddle him to give him a very vigorous massage which lasted a couple of minutes. On the way back home she would sit down on the roadside.
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