My Sister in Law called

My sister-in �" law called. I was surprised. Surprised that it was my sister-in-law. I knew she needed something. That was when she remembers to find my number. I was very conscious about these calls which I seldom received from my siblings and in-laws.

Nina. That was her name. Nina was in pain. Her voice was throbbing. I could hear her gasping through the wires that connected us. I waited some moments for her to find her tone.

“Do you think they will take him away? How long do you think they would lock him up in Prison?” The words flowed through her nostrils in a soft pitch mixed with agitation and hopelessness.

She was anxious to know my thoughts. It seemed. Yet the words were too severe and filled with scepticism.

“Why do you ask so? Don’t be so pessimistic men Nina”, that was me in return. My voice was irritated. Though I knew that reality was not too far from what she said; but my brain was too stubborn to let my emotions rule.

Nina began again. Narrating every single thing in much precision. She took her own time. I listened cautiously. Every word she uttered carried a weight of importance. Not to her alone, but to all of us.

Three days ago when I had received this unusually early morning call from my mother, I had spat out the words “Oh my Goodness” even when there was nothing goodness about what was happening. The call had disturbed my thoughts, and flopped my entire schedule for the day. It was hard to absorb. But I did absorb silently. It was hard to swallow the sudden pain.

My brother Jerry who was the youngest, was just another girl to us whom we wanted in our ‘doll-house’ games. Our love for him was immense that we wanted to pretend believing that he would never grow tall and big, grow a moustache, work in an office and marry a girl. But then all of these things did happen.

Jerry was the only son and so of no doubt a ‘mama’s boy’. That is what everyone thought and our mama was so proud of those thoughts of others that she made sure he stays a ‘nice little mama’s boy forever. Now this is what is called a mother’s love �" especially towards her only ‘begotten’ son.

“You know what .............” My mother’s words were like tiny trinkets that fell and hit the bare ground. I felt she was shivering. I recognized the crack in her voice. But I didn’t know what it was about.

“Why do you sound so sick Ma. Why, what’s wrong with Jerry?” I inquired in haste.

She didn’t sound surprised at my words, though I thought she would.

 “The police have taken him” she replied in agitation.

“Oh my Goodness”

She tried to explain and failed. Her past life had been too fragile to absorb any more distress. But she was still strong. The strength in her was the solid belief that she had in her God and in her religion.

“God must be having his own plans. We have to be thankful they came on a Monday and not a Saturday.” She was grateful to God that he had checked the calendar before he let the police arrest my brother.

“Why can’t God just not let this happen. After all does this have to happen in the first place? And why to Jerry? What does God gain by this men .......... I don’t understand?”

My mother would have showed annoyance with my words, but she had chose not to do so this instance.

So the conversation was rather peaceful and ended up with a ‘’let’s wait and see’’ note.

I found it not so easy to fathom what had happened. But waiting was the only choice given to us all.

So we waited.

My head wobbled and I lost concentration in what I was supposed to be doing that day.  So my husband called off his appointments so that he could nurse me. He knew I needed his presence badly enough to hold back my stamina for the rest of the episodes for the day.

I thought of my mother. She was too exhausted. But also too occupied to be wailing. She had too many errands to see to. I looked at the time on the phone. We didn’t have a big  clock that hung on our wall. Nor was there a small ‘table clock’. We considered it ‘unwanted.’ My husband and I.

“Why do we need clocks when we are keeping our mobiles with us all twenty-four seven?” We argued.

Frequent callings between me and my mother made it easier to pass through the day.

“See will you? Someone has cheated on the bank, and disappeared not paying the loan. So the bank is holding poor Jerry responsible and accusing him of being part of it.” My mother explained to me.

“How could they do so men? Sure there are others in the hierarchy sanctioning loans. Jerry’s task was to bring the clients in for loans, no? Ask Jerry to say it all to them.”

“He has to give his statement to the police in Sinhala and not English. He is struggling with that. It is so hard you know, these technical and high fluent Sinhala. The police too are harsh on him. You can’t expect anything better from them men? They are also waiting to find an innocent to fulfil their wants. Poor Jerry ane.”

“Did you tell church? Please don’t now.” I wanted to make sure my mother remained silent on the matter.

“No no. I didn’t still. May be later. You know them no? But then someone has to sit and pray.” Her desperate voice.

“We are praying Ma .......... remember church is not everything. Of course I know the Bible is true, but those in church are also human beings.” I said with fatigue in my tone.

I got to know later that a lawyer had been called for.

Who on earth would be stupid enough to imagine the police to behave ‘gentlemen’. But Jerry who considered everyone to be as him, awaited little humanity from the khaki dressed ones.

“What is this I say ............. what have you done? Cheated your employer?” The words were too much to put up with. But Jerry found no courage to plead himself innocent. And certainly innocence was never respected in police stations. Five hours with the police was enough for hating them rest of your lives.

“The court proceedings are over. They didn’t have to pay anything for the bail.” My mother continued to do the reporting.

“At last something happens, no. But where is he now? Out?” I felt at ease. Because I knew my mother could be relieved that her son was back home.

“No. The fellows wants his passport. They are looking for it at home. Seems can’t find it. 3.30 is the deadline men. I just don’t want him even a day inside prison.” Loads of heartaches and doubts crept out from the depth of her soul. It hurt me too.

“Ma, it is not prison. Remand. Anyway they can’t remand him now. Make him stay overnight. Why men, these people can’t keep things in a proper way?”

I must have sounded irritated.

“They shifted house no? Now no point blaming. Just pray. That’s all we could do now. Minutes were rolling fast.”

Thud.

She had kept the phone. I felt she was right. It was no time for accusations and arguments.

I prayed. I had to do it. I didn’t have anything else left to do than praying.

I prayed. We prayed.

Half hour passed by very quickly now. And Jerry was out. They had found the passport in the end.

My sister-in-law finished at last. There was a long silence. I had only been listening to her. I now realized it was my turn to say something.

“The problem is not as bad as it seems. Just find ways to prove his innocence. And don’t stop praying.”

“He has already stopped. That’s what I fear most.” She said with a lump in her throat.

They had not only ruined his physical and mental lives, but also smashed his spiritual beliefs.

Is it wrong to be innocent? Is it bad to be genuine?

I was right when I thought she needed me. My sister-in-law.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

I want to critiques on my writing please - for improvement