Godmother
What do you do when the one who is supposed to help your life be better is the reason your life sucks? Rhetorical question there, I’m afraid.
Oh sorry. I forgot the formula. My name is Mina and I’m an addict. Like any good fairy tale — I see the raised eyebrows; wait until the end before you make any assumptions — as I was saying, it all started with a…with my fairy godmother. And yes, they are unfortunately real and not something I saw while high. Let’s see…I first met her on the night of my sixteenth birthday.
After the ritual midnight “Happy birthday” from my parents and some of my friends, I’d just crawled back into bed, only to be rudely awakened by someone pulling off my blanket and shining an extremely bright torch directly into my face. I groaned and got up to see her sitting on air, looking down at me. She was wearing a dementedly happy-looking smile and the exact clothes you’d expect a plump, red-cheeked matron on the cover of a 1900s children’s book to wear.
“Happy birthday, Mina! I’m Linda, your fairy godmother. I’ve been looking forward to this for soooo long!” She actually trilled, like a cheap Disney parody.
I was, of course, too scared to say anything. Being the naive, good girl I was then, I’d never even sampled weed, let alone anything that could cause hallucinations; so either the cake I’d just eaten was poisoned or there was a crazy stranger in my room. Neither choice was comforting. I sat there, frozen, unsure what I should do.
She, on the other hand, nonchalantly went on about how I was chosen in a random selection amongst millions and how she’d studied me from the very first second I was born. As she spoke, I just got more scared. Big Brother had the advantage of being remote and unseen, at least. To make matters worse, she kept moving closer and closer to me; one inch more and we’d actually be touching.
She continued, oblivious to my discomfort, “Of course, fairy godmothering has its rules and I can only help within them. But honey, you are going have the happiest life I can make for you!”
Spoiler alert — it was the exact opposite. Long story short, the way it worked was that three times in my life, she would come — at the exact right time — to help me or guide my path towards a happier life.
Of course, I had a lot of questions. How would she know what was the right time or the right path for me to take? What if she disagreed with what I thought was the right thing to do? And what if I used up my three wishes before apocalypse struck? Plus, I didn’t trust her; no free lunch and yada, yada, you know?
Before I could wrap my head around this new complication in my life, she leaned forward, cupped my face in her hands and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you soon, sweetie. And remember to think about what you want in life. Happy birthday once again,” she said and disappeared.
I sat in the darkness for a long time. It felt real, and yet, it couldn’t be. I knew my Grimm and Lang. Fairy godmothers were for prissy little wannabe princesses with hearts of gold; not a normal ordinary girl like me. I mean, I wasn’t a bad kid — good grades, nice friends, bunch of hobbies — basic stuff; but I sure wasn’t the goody-two-shoes type who seemed to be the stock favourites of fairy godmothers. It was decidedly weird and for the life of me, I couldn’t fathom why I’d been chosen.
I couldn’t sleep a wink that night, not that all my pondering resolved anything. By morning, I’d decided the best thing was to forget the whole thing ever happened and get on with my life. For a while, I succeeded.
Just a few months prior to my birthday, we’d moved to a small town and I was busy trying to find my place within the different cliques in school. With both my parents being in the army, we moved often. I developed a talent for ingratiating myself into the periphery of other people’s circles and so, I soon found myself befriending a group of music enthusiasts who had formed a band. They had some decent musicians, but few actually sang; and since I could hold a tune pretty well, I was welcomed with open arms.
Every weekend, we’d meet at one of our houses to practice. One time, it was at Ananya’s. She was a nice girl, a flautist with dreams of becoming a professional musician. We’d been over to her place before, but that day was the first time I met her brother Aditya. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was the leftover influence of thinking too much about fairy tales, but he made my heart skittish. I felt both foolish and unbelievably blessed to be in the same room as him. And then, I heard him sing — he was practicing and I just happened to overhear — but from the moment his soulful voice met my ears, my heart was all his. I wouldn’t say he was my first love, but he burns brighter in my memory than anyone else I’ve ever fallen for.
So, of course, I befriended Ananya and took every opportunity I had to go to her house. Even though I initiated this friendship for ulterior motives, we quickly became very good friends.
A few months passed since I first met Aditya. Although I’d see him now and again, things didn’t progress. It’s a little difficult to talk when your heart jumps up so much it chokes your throat; and he didn’t read minds. So, I suffered in silence.
One day, I was at Ananya’s house again. Feeling thirsty, she’d gone to the kitchen to get some drinks and snacks for us. Just then, Aditya barged into the room angrily, “Where did you hide it this time? Just because you’re jealous — ”
Realising it wasn’t his sister, he stopped. A faint blush painted his cheeks, his deep brown eyes grew larger and his rosebud mouth formed an inaudible oh. As usual, my heart was pounding, my mouth dry and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He muttered, “Uh…sorry. I was looking for Ananya. You’re Mina, right?”
I gasped. He knew my name! Since my voice was too busy being ecstatic to work, I nodded.
“I’ve been listening to you two practice. You have such a wonderfully husky voice. I’ve been meaning to ask; do you want to sing with me some time? I think our voices would sound well together.”
I was still dumbstruck, so he continued, “You see…My friends and me are starting this band and we’re looking for a female vocalist. So…”
I managed a single high pitched Yes and he smiled. We had barely exchanged numbers when Ananya came back and shooed him away. He waved to me as he left and my already soaring heart reached escape velocity.
We met the first few times under the guise of me joining the band, but by the third time we met, it was just the two of us — an actual date. Within weeks, we were dating seriously and dangerously close to becoming one of those cloying couples who can’t seem to separate themselves from each other.
Months passed and I became more and more certain that I was in love, that Aditya was my one and only; the person I’d spend my whole life with. Of course I didn’t tell him that — it would’ve been embarassing — but I was certain he felt the same way. But then, all young loves are like that; your fantasy colours their words, their actions until you can barely see them for who they actually are. I like to think that he actually loved me, that I wasn’t imagining the whole thing — but who can know for certain?
Anyway, I’d reached a point in this foggy state where I would do anything for him, where I seemed to be alive only in his presence, where I thought of little else than finding a way to sneak out of my house to be with him, to hear him croon gently when we cuddled, to feel his fiery passion ignite my own. Everyone says their first time was painful; for me, the pain was eclipsed by his tenderness. I felt so lucky, and so safe with him…I forgot that he was preparing for college at the same time.
He got accepted into a university on the other side of the country. Every time I saw him, my heart wanted to scream at him not to leave me, to stay back…but who gives up college? I didn’t want to taint my last few memories of him, so I buried my pain, acted as if our relationship was still the same — vibrant, passionate and totally in the moment. To his credit, he did talk about long-distance relationships, but I stopped him. Being an army brat, I knew all too well what distance did.
After our final goodbyes, I came home and burrowed into bed. All the hurt, the helplessness I’d repressed came rushing out in heaving gasps. That’s when Linda came back.
She appeared in my bedroom, still in that same weird dress, and sat with me as I cried through the night. Dawn had broken by the time I finally calmed down enough to thank her and to think — How did she know?
Sensing my unspoken question, she replied, “When any of my godchildren feels an unspeakable amount of pain, fear or dejection, it rings an alarm and I come to your aid. So, tell me sweetie, what can I do for you?”
“I want Aditya,” was my immediate, unthinking reply.
“Ooh! Your Prince Charming!!! Wow! That’s fantastic. Oh! Love is beautiful and perfect a — ”
“He’s left. Now, he’s going to go find some other girl in college, maybe even in the same class as him; then, he’s going to fall for her and forget all about me; and maybe she’d even be a singer and then he’ll forget how my voice sounded, so even if I called him, he wouldn’t recognise me; and my heart will break all over again; and…and…and that’s life, I know. I just want to cry now, let him go.”
“Oh sweetie! You can’t give up on love so easily. He’s your Prince Charming, so he’ll be back. Someone told me absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Yeah? Well, that someone is wrong. None of the friends I made through my life have stuck with me; they’re just FB fodder. Plus, I don’t believe in Prince Charmings. You can fall in love multiple times.”
“But that’s not true love. Yes, you can love multiple people, but true love happens only once.”
“And you’re an expert on this because…”
“Because that’s our specialty. We godmothers are assigned to people who are destined to have true love and our job is to guide them there.”
“Listen, I don’t have the energy to point out the fallacies in waiting for Fate. If you want something, you need to work for it. If you don’t…” I shrugged.
Linda got this devout-fanatic look in her eyes and her voice got even shriller, “No, no. You misunderstand. You have to work for what you want, but Fate helps. If it didn’t, my job wouldn’t exist.”
“So you’re saying you can make Aditya come back and be with me.”
“I can’t command him. People belong only to themselves. I’m a godmother, not a God. But I can guide you on the path to achieve something or transform what you already have into what would be most useful.”
“He’s left and although I want him back, I don’t want a long distance relationship. We’ve broken up properly and I want to cry, eat a tub of icecream and cry some more. That’s all I want now. I’ve seen my other friends through break-ups. It hurts, but it’ll pass. So, just leave me be.”
“Oh, don’t give up. This is just a temporary thing. You can go to college too with him; from high school sweethearts to college sweethearts to a wonderful little house with — ”
“Ooh! I know this one — white picket fence and 2.4 children?” I said in my most sarcastic tone while hope perversely beat a drum solo in my heart.
“Even if you say all this, I know you want to be with Aditya.”
“Duh! I do love him, you know.”
“Yes sweetie, I know. Oh, young love is so beautiful. I know this’ll work. Just wait. Soon, you’ll be together. By the way, you need get sufficient grades and apply. I can only make sure the application is accepted.”
“Whatever,” I replied. I just needed her to leave. She smiled, kissed my forehead once again and disappeared. I gave a sigh of relief and burrowed back into my bed.
The next few days I lazed about, ate a lot of pizza and cried. Memories of Aditya bombarded me continuously. Almost everything reminded me of him; and my mind kept going back to Linda’s words. What if there was a possibility we could get back together?
As days passed, my desire to give it another go increased. I thought about it a lot and it seemed to make more sense each time. There were people who rekindled their romances and it could definitely happen if we were in the same place. And I was pretty certain I could get a seat at his college; my grades were good enough and I just had to maintain them. Soon, I’d convinced myself that my fantasy would come true.
So I hung onto my memories of him, creating even more elaborate fantasies of how we’d get back together. At one point, despite my initial aversion to it, I even strongly considered long distance.
When he came back for the holidays the first time, we met up and it was almost as if he’d never left, as if we’d never broken up. Then, it was time for him to leave again. This time, I waved goodbye, certain that when he came back, we’d start all over again.
For the next year and a half, we continued this charade, getting together whenever he came back. We cocooned ourselves with our memories and basked in their lazy glow. It helped that Aditya also never spoke about college or his life or his friends.
Then, true to her word, Linda managed to get me into the same college as Aditya. As I prepared to leave, I felt…no…I knew that life was going to be perfect, just like how Linda had told me. Once Aditya saw me, just like always, we’d be dating again. Soon, we’d move in together; in the future lay marriage and kids.
As I’d expected, we met up in college and started dating again. I spent weeks floating in a delirious cloud of happiness — away by myself for the first time, the delicious euphoria of independence mixed in with the certainty of support from Aditya, life was good. I even said a silent thanks to Linda after one particularly wonderful date.
But soon I learnt of his reputation, of a Casanova who’d never succumb to a relationship. At first, this made me elated. Aditya hadn’t really, truly cheated on me, if he’d never been serious about anyone else.
Aditya though, was starting to feel differently. His roving eye had found other prey and he wanted back to his previous year. I like to think that he thought and fought hard not to leave me, but I doubt that was true.
He started dating others and I only found out about it when I saw him kissing a girl I didn’t know on the lawn near the library. I was furious. I took a few steps towards him, when I saw his hand slip under her dress. Shocked, I stopped. Humiliation and rage burned, I felt bile in my throat. When a passing group of students broke my view, I turned tail and ran.
Part of me didn’t want to believe it, the other, more rational part snickered. I decided to confront him. I called him, but he didn’t pick up. My fury kept ratcheting up, so I texted him to meet me in my room once he was free. He finally messaged back, late at night saying he’d meet me the next morning since he was tired. I was too furious to sleep and every waking moment served to deepen my dread — we were finally over.
The next morning, he came to my room. I confronted him about the girl I’d seen him with. He casually brushed it off, saying that it was nothing serious and that I was too old-fashioned. I bristled and demanded to know what he wanted out of our relationship.
He had an immediate answer — an open relationship. I was stunned, more at the immediacy of the response than the actual one. He’d been actively thinking of cheating on me. I wouldn’t have believed it if the words hadn’t come out of his mouth.
I railed at him, begged him to let us go back to the way things were. But he made it clear — I could either be one of his bevy of ‘dates’ or we could break up. Then he left.
My friends consoled me with pizza and fries; one pointed out that if I hadn’t agreed to an open relationship in the first place, then he was a total cheating bastard; another printed a photo of him and decorated it with as many expletives as she could remember. I still have it somewhere.
For a few days, I managed to stay sane with the raw power of my anger. But memories of Aditya hounded me. I missed him with every cell in my body. I wanted to stand firm, to let him go, but I couldn’t. I had spent too much time fantasising about him and Linda’s words on true love had become engraved into my heart. I had to persevere, so I acceded to his wish for a open relationship.
Suddenly, everything seemed back to normal, at least when we went on dates. Other times, I’d see him with someone else and every caress he gave another girl sent a knife through me. I tried to be more accepting of our open relationship, but I couldn’t. To me, love was monogamous, two people loving only each other for whatever time they were together. And that, I wasn’t getting from Aditya. I thought many times about breaking it off, but I’d invested too much of myself in this relationship to believe in any other outcome but of him and me, together.
I started obsessing over the details of how he’d finally come to realise that he loved only me. I thought that when the others got tired of him and left, I’d still be there; and that then, he’d see the light; he was supposed to be my Prince Charming; eventually we’d be together. I just had to hold on until then.
Months passed and nothing changed. He was happy and I was slowly getting more and more depressed. The war between my obsession and my beliefs was straining my pysche to the point I was physically affected. I started losing weight, found it difficult to concentrate and even stopped singing.
While I was with Aditya, I was my normal self. The rest of the time, I obsessed, fantasised about the moment he would come back, the moment he would finally realise that I was what he had always been searching for, the moment this whole ordeal would be over. I withdrew into myself as I waited for this apotheosis to happen.
I even shut out Ananya, who through all this, had always been by my side. My inertia scared her so much, she even got my parents to try to intervene. I wish I could’ve been as good a friend to her as she was to me…
Anyway, things fell apart soon after. Aditya, instead of coming back to me as I’d expected, started ignoring my calls, my texts. I became convinced that he’d found someone else. I hounded him on social media, trying to find evidence of that girl who’d replaced me. I kept trying to call him. Finally, he blocked me.
That’s when I broke. There was no point to life any longer. I grabbed a knife and was about to cut my wrist when Linda appeared.
She snapped her fingers and the knife disappeared. Her face creased with worry as she tried to hug me. I fought her. I didn’t want to be held or soothed or treated like something was wrong with me. There wasn’t. The person who was wrong was Aditya. He was the one who didn’t understand, who was not doing what he was supposed to.
Linda was stronger than I expected, or maybe I had weakened myself too much. I couldn’t fight anymore. She gathered my collapsed body to her and cradled me, singing a soft lullaby…I think it might’ve been magic because I was asleep within seconds.
Later, I felt warm drops on my cheek. Maybe I had dreamed about it, because in the morning, she was sitting, waiting for me; her usual Disney manic smile in place. Per usual, she trilled Good Morning.
I winced. Although the sleep seemed to have helped, her chirpiness was sending tremors of irritation through me. It wouldn’t be long before I was engulfed in the vacuum of my thoughts again.
Linda placed a plate of toast in front of me and said, “A healthy body leads to a healthy mind you know. Eat up. I’ll get you some fruit later.”
I stared daggers at her, willing her to go away, but she stood, eyes wide, certain that I would listen. Something about her stance reminded me of my mom, whose expectations were silent but couldn’t be denied. I ate my breakfast as Linda talked. I don’t really remember what she said. Maybe she was lecturing me, maybe she was talking about the latest gossip.
The plate disappeared once I finished eating. Linda, sitting up straight, then asked, “What happened?”
I told her the whole tale. She listened, just as any of my friends would’ve, railing at Aditya, gently patting my shoulder as I spoke about how I hadn’t been sleeping.
Once I was done with my story, she asked gently what I wanted.
I didn’t know what to say. Despite everything, a part of me wanted him back. Another part wanted Aditya to suffer, but an even larger part couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting. Guess I’m a total softie.
I shrugged; it didn’t matter; whatever I thought, the truth was that I didn’t matter to him anymore. Tears escaped once more.
Linda, wide-eyed, said, “No, don’t cry, please. Why don’t you think about what you want to do and then we’ll meet again, okay?”
I didn’t say anything, so she continued, “You know I’m making this exception only for you; almost everyone says their wish quickly. Anyway, it’s only this one time, you hear.” She wagged her finger in my face.
A snort of laughter escaped from me. It was just the sort of over-dramatic gesture I’d expect from her.
A relieved smile bloomed over her face. “Okay. I’ll be back tonight. So you should think of something by then.”
She waited a few moments for me to answer, but I didn’t have the energy to respond. Finally, she disappeared. I lay back on my bed, my mind blank.
The sounds of college surrounded me and in-between that white noise, Linda’s voice pulsed in my head. She was coming back and my peace would be broken. Hadn’t I suffered enough? Did I need her too?
My anger at Aditya doubled back and fell on Linda. I began catalouging her faults. Her incessant cheeriness had always felt a tad naive and at the same time, condescending; as if I was willfully disregarding the path towards happiness. She had magic to help her, she was privileged; what could she know about someone like me? I thought of raising this topic with her for a millisecond; then decided against it; I couldn’t listen to more of her annoying voice. And then, she’d lecture about how she’d helped women find their Prince Charmings. I mean, what if I was lesbian or polyamorous? What would she have done then? No fairy tale I ever read talked of all this.
The worst was how she had managed to convince me that Aditya was my true love. As soon as I uttered his name, memories flooded me, accompanied by a searing fatalistic realisation that I’d never forget him. And that, gave me an idea.
When Linda came back that night, I told her to erase my memories. She shook her head; it wasn’t possible. I fell back against the bed, despondent, “Why can’t you do anything I actually want? I want, no…need to forget him, even for a while. It hurts. Can you then make me not feel anything for me?”
Linda murmured, “Oh, love hurts at times, but just you wait. He’ll be back.”
“That means you can’t change my emotions. So, what can you do?”
She suggested fast food and chocolate, which as I pointed out, hadn’t helped in the last few months, so it wasn’t going to help now. Then, she suggested a hobby, maybe music. I glared at her. She was even less helpful than the people — I refuse to call them friends anymore — who’d told me I just had to get over it.
Linda groaned theatrically, “I’m running out of time. Ask something, please.”
“I did. You can’t do what I want. So, leave. I won’t hold it against you.”
“I can’t. And you’re right, I can’t change the way you feel.” Then, her face lit up. “I’ll find the happiest people in this building and introduce you. You can be friends and learn from them how to relax. I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared. About ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. A wiry guy, in activewear decidedly two-three sizes bigger stood arm-in-arm with Linda.
“Hey dude. This lady says some guy’s done you wrong and you’re looking for something to forget. I got the best stuff and for a pretty lady like yourself, I won’t even ask you to pay. Go on, try it,” he said, proffering a packet of weed. “Oh, and I’m Jake. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi. I’m Mina,” I replied automatically.
“Great! I can see you’re going to be good friends. Now, I have to get going.” She squeezed me into a tight hug, pushed Jake into my room and disappeared.
“Woah! That funny lady disappeared. This must be some strong stuff,” said Jake.
I shook my head. I didn’t think weed was the answer to my problems, but as I saw the easy way in which Jake made himself comfortable in my room, I was envious.
I thought of many of my friends who’d sampled weed and it didn’t seem to have had adverse effects on them. None of them were addicts. I’d never before had the urge to try it, but now, I thought a few puffs wouldn’t hurt.
And it didn’t mostly. Those first few puffs with Jake, became a daily evening habit, helping me sleep, quieting my brian whenever images of Aditya appeared. Soon, I stopped obsessing over him and started dating again.
I met Liam, who took me to the sleazier clubs where drugs were sold in the open and helped me graduate to ecstasy. The sheer delight of letting the malestorm of feelings I had out in the open, without a hint of shame was almost as good as sex. I felt unencumbered; as if I was living my best life.
Then, almost as soon as it had begun, four years ended. I’d just managed to pass with a decent 3.0 GPA.
After graduation, I tried to get a job, but there were many applicants, many with better resumes than me. So, I moved back home and started work as an accountant in the town’s only accountancy firm. The pay was okay, the health insurance good and the work boring. I even got a place of my own.
Most days were the same. I’d go to work, numb my brain with numbers, come back and numb myself even more with weed, which to my surprise was easily available, even here where weed was still not legal.
The town had few nightclubs and even fewer eligible men, so I didn’t go clubbing as I used to in college. I missed the glow of vitality ecstasy offered. So, once every few months, after I’d saved up enough, I’d slip off to the city a few hundred miles away to party the weekend away. I always came away from the parties feeling good and would drop to rock bottom by the time I reached home. The quiet town got on my nerves.
I managed to last a whole year. I think some part of me thought I’d meet up with Aditya again, but FB told me he’d moved overseas. My parents had also moved again by this time, so there was nothing holding me back.
On the first anniversary of my job, everyone wished me a long career in that office. The thought of spending years with middle-aged people who seemed to live on gossip and complaints about the government taking all their money…just put me over the edge. I teetered as I saw myself zombie walking through life, working just to pay for necessities and whiling away the rest of the time. It was so far from my earlier dreams of romance and a wonderful job, I knew I had to get out of there now, or I’d start my slide downwards. I immediately put in my papers, shocking everyone and no doubt providing sufficient gossip for at least six months to come.
During my two weeks notice, I packed up all my things, bought an old minivan and stuffed everything I owned into it. It was a bit disheartening to see that I didn’t have much, but I was stubborn. I might have only the bare sketches of a plan, which was to go to the city and find a job; but I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here.
I checked into the cheapest motel I could find in the city. I scoured job sites for a week to find a job as an accountant, but there were no openings. I didn’t want to burn through what little I had saved, so I picked up a few shifts as a waitress at a small restaurant. It was hard work, but it paid for my motel room and a bit of weed.
Few more weeks in and I didn’t have a single accounting interview to my name. I gave in and started working more shifts at the restaurant. I even found a room near it.
But, I hadn’t given up. Waitressing was only temporary and I continued to apply to as many jobs as I could. Months passed with a few interviews, all unsuccessful. By this time, I was working six days a week at the restaurant and on my one free day, I was so exhausted I could barely bring myself to log on to my computer.
One day, as I was walking back to the kitchen with a load of dishes I’d just cleared away, a customer suddenly got up from his chair and bounded forward. He bumped into me and a plate almost fell. I stretched and caught it by the edge. The leftover sauce on the plate splashed. The man turned, mumbled that his mother had been in an accident and left without even helping me clean up or leave me a tip or even a sorry. I mean, I understand that he was concerned about this mother, but I’d almost hurt my back because of him. He could’ve at least apologised properly.
I managed to clean it all up and returned to my work. A few minutes later, a nagging pain started in my lower back. I ignored it. The pain kept increasing and by the end of my shift, it had become very painful. Only the thought of paracetomol pills and weed in my room kept me going.
When I got in, the first thing I did was swallow a couple of pills. I knew it’d take some time for the medicine to work, so I lay down and lit a reefer. The weed and the tablets dulled the pain and soon I forgot about it. I slept deeply.
The next morning, the pain was back. I downed another two pills and left for work. For a few hours, I was fine, but the pain was more persistent than dandruff. It came back. I took another pill. It came back again.
That night, I smoked a little more weed than my usual and that seemed to help. But next day, it was back. I knew I needed something stronger than paracetamol, so I called in sick to work and went to the free clinic. They gave me some more potent pills and told me to rest my back for a few days. Yeah, right! As if I could take a few days off. As it was, I was just staying ahead of my expenses; losing a few shifts meant that I’d have to cut back, and there was nowhere to cut except the weed; and I needed my weed. There was no way I was going to get through my job if I didn’t have weed to come back to.
So, the next day I was back at work. The medicines from the free clinic seemed to be working and I had only twinges of pain which were easily soothed by a quick toke before work.
A week later, my medicines were over and the pain was back. I dragged myself to work and slowly shuffled through it. My manager even called me aside asking me to pick up my pace. It was the first time I’d ever been called up and I was mortified. This wasn’t my dream job or anything, but I had some pride in what I did. I tried to work faster, but the pain kept increasing. As I rummaged through my purse for a paracetomol, one of my colleagues, Yani came in and asked me if I was okay.
I explained that my back hurt but the medicines from the free clinic were over. They were usually pretty strict about not giving out refills because of all the media furore over the opiod epidemic, so I didn’t want to go back there. She smiled, patted my shoulder and said she had just the thing. She brought a small white pill from her purse and gave it to me. A part of me thought that I shouldn’t be accepting random medicine from a stranger, but the majority of me just wanted something to deal with the pain. So, I took it.
Minutes later, the pain was gone. I felt better than I had in days. The relief of being painless had me flying higher than a kite. The next two days too I borrowed Yani’s cure and then offered to pay her to get more for me. She took most of my month’s weed money and gave me in return a week’s supply of pills.
That week, I smiled and glowed. My every step was painless, my enthusiasm boundless. The week, as time unfortunately does, passed and the pain was back. I managed to get through one day with the last of the weed I’d saved up, but by the next day, I needed my little white pills.
I called Yani and she agreed to link me to her dealer as her own stash had given out. I didn’t have much except my computer and a gold watch my parents had given me. The watch fetched a decent amount at the pawn shop and I headed over to meet Yani’s dealer, Rosa.
Rosa had a grandmotherly figure and eyes carved from stone. She silently took some of my money and gave me two weeks worth of pills. I finished them in ten days and went back. She gave me another two weeks worth. This time I was careful to stretch it since I was fast running out of cash.
But the pain didn’t care how large my overdraft was or how my credit card bills were piling. It just wanted to be fed little white pills. I sold my laptop next and survived a few more weeks.
I found a cheaper room, but the rent money saved didn’t get me more than a few pills. It wasn’t enough. I begged credit from Rosa, but no amount of tears would get her to budge. I didn’t have much else to sell and way too soon, withdrawal symptoms started kicking in.
I literally crawled to Rosa’s corner and just as I approached, she started convulsing. At first I thought she’d had a bad reaction to one of her own drugs, but Rosa only sold, never partook; maybe because she’d seen one too many desperadoes like me. That time, mid-day, there was no one about. This was a working neighbourhood and no one had time to laze about in the middle of the day. I inched closer.
Rosa’s convulsions were slowing. Her granite eyes were rolled back. She gave one final convulsion and was still. The air was suddenly filled with the sick stench of faeces and urine mixed together. She’d soiled herself! I gave a little guffaw — the great Rosa, the one whose little pills gave me life, who looked at me like I was just an insect; if only she could see herself lying there in her own shit. Then, it struck me — she wasn’t moving, so she couldn’t guard her stash. I was also almost certain that she was dead. And even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t know who’d taken it.
I looked around and there was still no one around, no curtains were twitching. I touched Rosa’s neck as if to check for a pulse, not that I’d ever tried it, but that’s what they did on TV. Her flesh was clammy and I vomited a little in my mouth. I’m not sure if that was my withdrawal, the stench or the feel of Rosa’s dead flesh, but I forced it down. I couldn’t contaminate the scene with my DNA. I quickly drew back my had from neck. I sincerely hoped they couldn’t lift fingerprints off skin.
Then, I wrapped my hand in my coat, reached into her dress and lifted out a large bag of pills. This would last me months! I swallowed one of the pills, put the rest in my purse and walked away quickly.
I rushed back to my room and locked myself in. I had to find a hiding place. I divided the pills into little packets and hid them in different parts of my closet and under my bed. Then, I heaved a sigh of relief. I had the pills which meant I could work. I could even take a few extra shifts and maybe get my computer back. If I could hold it together for a few days, I could plan something, get out of here. A sudden sense of confidence rose in me. I could still achieve something, be someone.
The next day, I had the evening shift and I went to work as usual. Yani, however, didn’t make it in and I had to cover double the number of tables. Even that couldn’t take the edge off my happiness. As I thought of the pills I had stashed away, I knew I’d be okay.
As my shift ended, a group of men came in. My manager rushed to tell them that we were closed, but they pushed him away. One of them pointed to me and in a flash, they’d surrounded me. One of them said, “We know you took the pills and we want them back. Now.”
“I don’t have any pills,” I said.
The guy smiled, looking all the while like a shark, said in an even lower voice, “You’re the only one of Rosa’s customers who’s unaccounted for, ergo, you have it. Now, take us to where you’ve hidden it.”
“I don’t have it. Please, believe me.”
“Hrmph! Why would anyone believe a junkie? Now, come quietly with us or it won’t be good for you. Do you understand? Just nod.”
I knew I couldn’t reason with him, so I just nodded and said, “I need to grab my purse from the back.”
He nodded and followed me as I picked up my purse. “After you,” he said, waving a hand gallantly. I was instantly reminded of Linda. Where’s a godmother when you need her?
The men followed me back to my room. I went straight to my bed and looked under it. The pills were gone. I ran to my closet, but there were no pills there too. Stunned, I collapsed and murmured, “They’re gone.”
“Do you really think we’ll fall for a cheap trick like that?” asked one of the men.
“You don’t understand!” I stammered, “They were here. Right here. I had a plan for them. I had a plan.” My voice crescendoed into a scream, prompting my flatmate to peep in.
One of the men caught him and said, “Let’s search this squirt’s room too.”
Half the men searched the rest of our small flat while the rest tossed mine. But there were no pills to be found. The shark-teethed man turned to me, “Fine. It’s not here. Where is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. Where…where?…WHERE?” I was weeping and screaming and very very scared. I wasn’t going to get out of this alive.
Just then, I heard a siren approaching. The men nodded to each other, quickly slipped away except the shark-teethed man. He said, “I’ll be back in a little while. You’ll have my stuff for me by then, won’t you?”
I just stared at him.
“Nod,” he said.
I nodded. He left. My flatmate peered in once again, saw the state of my room and wisely decided to spend the night elsewhere.
I collapsed onto the floor and buried my face in my knees. When the men came back, I’d be dead, and along with me, all my dreams would too. Strangely, even though my thoughts were so depressing, I felt nothing…empty. It was weirdly peaceful.
As I sat waiting for the men to come back and finish the job, a strong floral fragrance tickled my nostrils. It was so incongrous with my current settings, I was certain I was hallucinating. To make matters worse, a soft hand patted my head. It was followed by a high voice which could belong to no one else and immediately, irritation exploded in me. The stillness dissipated faster than a shadow in the midday sun.
I lifted my head and there Linda was, her plump face creased with concern. “Oh sweetie! What have you done to yourself?” she said.
I groaned. Couldn’t she even let me die in peace? She continued patting my head. I swatted her hand away and she made a moue of surprise, her eyebrows arching so far they disappeared into her hair. Perfect theatre as always.
She said, “Mina…are you okay, sweetie?”
“Argh! Stop it! I’m a grown ass woman, not your sweetie. And of course I’m not alright. That bunch of men you might’ve seen demolishing my apartment some time ago are coming back to do the same to me.”
“No. Don’t say that. There must be a way out…some way I can help you.”
“Let me guess…you can’t change those people’s minds, you can’t manufacture money or drugs, can you?”
“Drugs? I would never…” She even clutched her pearls. It’s like I was transported to a weird old-timey musical that manages to be funny only when you’re high — and I wasn’t high; worse, I was in it.
“Just leave. It’s over.”
“But I can’t leave you like this. I have to give you your wish.”
“Fine. My wish is that you leave.”
“Well, I will have to leave after your wish. And I’ll miss you ever so much. I — ” She stopped as I glared.
“Damn it then! I wish for poison.”
“Umm…I can’t.”
“Then, fuck off! Some sort of godmother you are! Everything I ask for, you say you can’t. Maybe it’s time for you to get out of this godmothering business.”
Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks, a small mucus bubble formed at her nose, threatening to grow. She sniffed; and I lost it. I was about to die and she was going to snivel because I asked to leave?
I tilted my head back up, shrieked so loud I thought I was going to burst my own eardrums. That stopped her. Not a sound escaped. Slowly, she edged towards me, murmured, “Mina…Mina…isn’t there anything I can do?”
I let out a soft groan, brimming with desperation. She wasn’t going to leave. I turned to her and said, “Go before they come. They’ll kill you too.”
“Oh you sweet little thing! You were worried about me. Don’t be. They can’t see me. Only you can.”
“You mean I’ve been hallucinating you for these many years?”
“Oh pish! I’m real. It’s just that only godchildren can see their godmothers. If everyone could see us, they’d want one too, right?”
Seeing as I’d have done anything not to have a godmother, I couldn’t quite see her point.
“Anyway, let’s get you out of here. You can think up a plan and I’ll help,” she said in her most mother-dearest voice.
I replied, “The only thing that’s going to save our asses is if I find the pills.”
“Oh…ohhh…”
As she drawled out the last oh, I felt my stomach make its way to Hell. I asked, “What did you do?”
“Umm…I flushed it down the toilet. I was concerned about you and if you didn’t have those pills, you’d not be addicted and — ”
“WHAT? Really? You know exactly addiction works, don’t you? Bravo! You’ve flushed my whole life away.”
“No, no, no. It’s not like that. I just — ”
“You will just shut up or I will definitely punch you.”
“I can help.”
“Great! Climb down the drain, find my pills and get back.”
“I think they may have dissolv — ”
“I KNOW!”
I needed to smash something, anything. All I had left was the goldfish my flatmate left in my room — his girlfriend hated fish, so it stayed in my room most days. I swore. The fish swam, blissfully unaware of the traumatic events of my life. I envied it so much.
A sudden clap burst through, followed by a squeal worthy of a rat soprano. I turned to meet Linda’s wide open eyes and manic smile. I took a step back.
“I know how to save you. If you don’t have the pills, all you need to do is give them money, right?”
“Look around you. What makes you think I’ve money?”
“No. The goldfish. I can transform it.”
“Into gold?”
“No. You see, I love Nat Geo and I was reading all about this fish that sold for four hundred thousand dollars. Arowana, it’s called. It’s supposed to be lucky.”
“Stop blabbering about fish, will you? That’s not what I want to listen ro as I wait to die,” I said. Maybe Linda’s dramatics were rubbing off on me. I shuddered. At least, it’d be over soon.
She waved a hand to shush me and continued, “I can transform this goldfish into an arowana.”
“Sure. And at midnight, it’ll turn back into a goldfish.”
“Hmm…I can hold the transformation for a few days.”
“And it’ll hold up to DNA tests?”
“I am nothing if not perfect in my work,” she said, drawing her head up high.
I thought for a sec — I had no options and this might at least keep her quiet at the very least. I said, “Do it. One final gamble.”
She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. The goldfish morphed into a silvery fish. It didn’t look all that special to me but Linda assured me it was the right one.
No sooner than she’d finished, my door burst open and the men came back. Before they could begin their threats, I said, “I give up. Take it.”
Astonished at the ease with which I’d given in, they looked at each other. The shark-teethed man said, “Where are the pills?”
I shrugged, “I sold them. And bought that.” I pointed to the fish.
“You sold 30 grand worth of pills for a fish?” he asked incredulously.
I nodded. “It’s rare and can fetch a few hundred gs. My friend was being raided and couldn’t keep it anymore. You can take it and sell it. It’s worth five, ten times the stash Rosa had.”
“Yeah, right. Who pays 300 grand for a small white fish?”
“Hrmph! Rich guys is who. Why don’t you take it to a pet store and find out?”
The shark-teethed man hesitated. Usually, people would cower and beg for their life and here I was, acting all nonchalant.
Another man, who’d been on the phone until this time, stepped forward and said, “Wait. I know a place where we can check the fish out. If you’re telling the truth, you live. Else, the owner keeps some piranhas and he likes to feed them live prey.” His wispy beard and incongruously white teeth leered at me.
I swallowed. I was definitely in a cheesy movie. Who else but B grade villains kept piranhas?
I grabbed the fish bowl and walked out.
I was driven to a warehouse. A short, rotund man in plastic overalls and wellingtons came to greet us. The wispy-bearded man grabbed the fishbowl from my hands and gave it to the short man, who looked at it closely and shrugged, “Too small.”
“Test its DNA,” I said, “It’s still growing.”
“I don’t need no junkie telling me how to do my job,” he retorted and disappeared into the warehouse.
The shark-teethed man grabbed my arm and dragged me to the next building. He pushed me into a room and locked the door. Linda appeared as soon as he’d left. She put a dramatic finger to her lips and said, “Stay quiet. I’ve called the police.”
“Aren’t you supposed to disappear after I make my third wish?” I asked.
She…flounced…there was no other word for it. Somehow, it made me laugh, great big racking laughs, as tears streamed down my face.
Linda looked at me oddly for one long minute, then she hugged me. Slowly, my manic laughter gave out and I was silent.
I finally heard the sirens that had been booming all this while. Our eyes met. Linda gently wiped my face, kissed both my cheeks and said, “Goodbye Mina. Oh, how I wish you could’ve had your Prince Charming! Maybe you’ll meet him here. Wait, you look a mess. Let me make you presentable.”
She fussed with my hair and I let her. It’d be the last time anyway, and I was too tired to protest. When I was as presentable as she could make me, she smiled, whispered goodbye through streaming eyes and vanished.
Right on cue, the door was broken open by two policemen. The short man was behind them. He pointed to me and said, “That’s her. She’s my contact and she’d the on who got me that fish.”
They cuffed me and led me away.
In the police station, they asked me over and over where I’d gotten the rare fish, who my contacts were. Apparently, the short man had been importing all sorts of endangered wildlife and he’d given me up as a contact. I, in turn, said that the short man had kidnapped me and if he hadn’t, they needn’t have broken down my door. But they refused to believe me and kept questioning me until my withdrawal symptoms started.
I retched, convulsed until I thought I was going to die, but I managed to keep on breathing. In the state I was in, questioning was not possible.
I was transferred to a de-addiction ward for criminals. Once I’d gotten over the worst of the symptoms, they put me right back in jail — for apparently conning the short man by painting a goldfish to look like an arrowana. Even the worst of lawyers could’ve gotten me off by comparing pictures of the two fishes, but I guess it never occurred to them that a junkie could be innocent.
Well, I did my time. I don’t really want to talk about it, but I got lucky there. I found help, became and stayed clean.
I got out last year and immediately left the state. I wandered for a while doing odd jobs, until I came here. It was so peaceful, it reminded me of the town I was in when I was sixteen. I decided to settle here.
I soon found a job at the pet store. Yeah, it sounds bonkers considering my past with the fish, but surrounded by all those animals, I felt…I feel safe, connected.
Sometimes I think of my past life, all the crazy stuff I did and wonder how things would’ve been if I hadn’t become so obsessed with Aditya or if I hadn’t met Linda. But most times, I think only of my dog, Tibby. I finally have someone who loves me, unconditionally.
Oh, and Linda hasn’t come back. You know, I think I’m more thankful for that than for anything else. Fairy godmothers are nothing but trouble and I’m well rid of them.
Thanks for listening. And look at the time. I’ve to go. Tibby must be hungry.
The idea for this story initially came to me when I was trying to think of a storyline for the wonderful Sandy 🤺 Knight’s prompt involving story cubes, fishes, magnets and meteorites. I wrote another story for it, but the concept of a godmother’s three wishes turning to harm rather than good stuck with me and ended up as this long tale.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.
© Indira Reddy 2020
