Child Brides of India

By C. Stanton Leman

Chapter 60: Making Arrangements (Mgg, rom, cons, no sex)

I awoke alone and in a fog. I looked at the clock: ten am. I dragged myself out of bed and completed my morning duties. I’d guessed the girls had let me sleep, worried that I’d suffer from exhaustion. As the spray from the shower washed over my face I prayed for strength: strength to make it through the day and be strong for my girls. I begged for forgiveness but I hadn’t the strength to say morning prayers.

I dressed and made my way downstairs to find Mom and the girls at the table. Monaavi was crying and Attiya looked like she was frightened because her routine had been upset.

I think she sensed everyone’s sadness, and I wondered what was going on inside her locked brain. She kept looking around at everyone, not sure what to make of all the sad faces. I said good morning to everyone and scooped her up on my lap.

I hugged her to me, kissed her forehead and said to her with a smile, “Morning, Pixie.”

She looked up momentarily and then looked away at my smiling face and molded herself against my chest, seemingly wanting another hug so I obliged her.

Priya reached over and laid her hand on my arm and asked, “How do you feel this morning? We let you sleep because you’d been up almost two days in a row.”

“Groggy,” I replied, “I feel totally wasted.”

Monaavi expressed her condolences through her tears and I thankfully accepted them. Remembering what Mom said about life going on, I asked, “Has everyone eaten?”

With mumbled no’s I replied, “Well, today’s another day, we need to eat and get on with life, right, Mom?”

Mom smiled and said “Yes, Sean, we need to get on with life.”

I really didn’t feel like eating, but I figured I should lead by example and asked Pita for breakfast. Everyone else begrudgingly followed suit. I started to feed Attiya from my plate then remembered my shot yesterday. I had Pita bring me a plate and fork for Attiya and when we’d finished eating, I put her down and gave her a love tap on her little behind and said, “Okay, Leeya, you and Attiya have studies, don’t you?”

Looking somber Leeya complained, “But I don’t feel like it.”

“I know, Sweetie,” I replied, “But we have to live our lives even when it’s hard.”

Mom gave me a smile with her eyes behind her cup and nodded.

Monaavi rose and took each girl by the hand and led them to the study. I sipped on a cup of coffee while Priya and Mom talked. Priya asked me if I thought it wise to make Leeya do school work today and I told her I thought it best to try and get her mind off things: even if it was only for a short while. I told Priya that if she’s around Monaavi and Attiya, they may help distract her from dwelling on Emmy and death.

I asked her, “How are you doing?”

“I’m worried,” she replied, “worried that you’ll get sick too.”

“Naw,” I scoffed jokingly, trying to allay her fears, “I’m too much of a letch to get sick, remember?”

There! I did it: I made her smile. She smirked and replied, “Don’t remind me!”

Just then the phone rang. I said, “I’ll get it” and rose to pick up the line.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Hello is this Sean Michaels?” came the voice on the other end.

“Speaking,’ I replied.

“This is Dr. Gupta from the hospital, remember me?”

“Oh yes,” I acknowledged, “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” he began, “we gave you an injection yesterday and I was wondering how you were feeling.”

I replied, “Besides feeling exhausted and worn out, I’m fine I guess.”

He said, “I wanted to follow up with you because of your possible exposure yesterday. Please refrain from sharing any eating or drinking utensils and intimate contact with anyone for two weeks. If you display any of the symptoms during that time, even in the slightest, you need to come back here immediately. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Doctor, but why two weeks?” I asked.

“These symptoms can appear anywhere from twenty-four hours to ten days. I’d like you to be safe by saying two weeks. If you don’t show any symptoms by then, I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine. To save yourself a trip, if nothing happens within that time, you can either call me here at the hospital or leave me a message.” he said.

“Will do,” I replied, “I understand and will be careful. Is that all?”

“That’s all,” he replied. “Just be aware of your body and be careful.”

“I will, Dr. Gupta, and thanks for your concern. Good day, Sir.” I said thanking him.

“Good day, Mr. Michaels.” Click.

I returned to the table and asked Pita to come in and sit down. I told everyone who was on the phone and why. I instructed Pita, “Make sure you keep my dishes, utensils, cups and anything that touches my lips separate from everyone else’s, wash them separately and also wear gloves.”

Priya got that scared look on her face again and I tried to slough it off by saying, “Don’t get upset, it’s only a precaution that’s all.”

Trying to look on the bright side, I told Pita “Well, with us eating breakfast so late, it looks like you don’t have to make lunch!”

Everyone knew I was hurting as much as they were and putting up a front. They responded with nods and smiles.

I heard the front door open and turned to see my father enter with an overnight bag. He dropped it in the hall and as he walked to the dining room Mom rose and went to him. As soon as he outstretched his arms to embrace her, Mom broke down, collapsing into his arms and as he directed her to the floor Mom sobbed out a heart-wrenching guttural cry, “My Godchild is dead!”

I saw the tears stream down my father’s cheeks as he did as I did yesterday with Emmy. I saw his jaw tighten as he tightly squeezed his eyes shut to keep from falling apart. He lovingly lifted her from the floor, scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs.

Priya jumped from her chair and fell into my lap sobbing. With her mouth next to my ear, she sobbed out, “How can we make the pain go away?”

I swallowed audibly hard and managed to get out, “We need to concentrate on loving instead of the pain.”

“Oh God, Sean!” my beloved cried, “If you died, my world would collapse! Leeya would be devastated. Oh God please don’t take him away from me!”

“Shhhh,” I whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”

I needed to snap her out of it so I said, “I’ve been thinking… maybe I should marry Me Ma.”

She sniffled and slapped me on the back and said, “That’s the worst thing you could do. I’d be a widow for sure!”

Well, it worked. We both had a tearful laugh as we just held each other. Monaavi brought the girls in for a break and Leeya was still somber. Attiya wanted her old sister back so she took Leeya by the hand silently and led her outside to the back yard. Monaavi went to the kitchen and returned with some tea.

We sat and talked about the girls for a few moments and I told Priya I was going to call Imaam. I went to the study and fortunately he was in. I explained all my circumstances and he confirmed what Adib had said last night. He said that if Emmy and I were espoused, her being a Christian and believing in the line of Abraham, she could be buried with us. I thanked him for his advice and accepted his condolences. We said our salaams and disconnected.

I then called the cemetery that Adib had suggested and they informed me they had a large section set aside for Muslims, but that because they mainly cater to the affluent, he wasn’t sure if I could afford their fees. I asked him how much ten plots together would cost me and after hearing a calculator whiz, he replied, $100,000 U.S... I told him I’d have my secretary bring by a check and to prepare a grave for a burial in the middle of our allotment two days hence.

I told Priya what I’d just done and her eyes bugged and asked, “Ten? Why so many?”

I explained, “Well, there’s Emmy, then the three of us, that makes four, and I figured that between the two of you girls if each of you had three children, that would make ten. Sound plausible?”

Shaking her head she replied, “Gosh, it seems so morbid to plan for one’s death and their children’s also.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “but at least no one else will have to worry about this detail and we’ll all be together when the time comes.”

Dad came downstairs about an hour later. He said that Mom was resting and that she was completely devastated and exhausted. I told him what she’d said to me last night and he said that she’s the strongest, most God fearing woman he’s ever met.

He extolled her by saying, “She’s endured pains that would kill ten men and her faith just keeps her pouring her heart out to others. That mother of yours doesn’t just believe in God, she walks with Him!”

“Life has driven me to my knees three times,” he said, “and she’s helped me pick up the pieces, stood me on my feet and damn if she didn’t turn stone into gold! Ours is truly a matriarchal family, always has been. I can see Priya is following in her footsteps and is the true leader in your family.”

Priya felt humbled by Dad’s statement and replied, “Well right now, I’m following Sean because I feel lost at the moment.”

I told Dad what I’d done concerning the burial plots and what Imaam had said. I asked him if he knew where Mom kept her phone book and he told me she has her PDA in the study. I asked Priya if she knew the name of the seamstress and she gave me the name of the shop

I went to the study and pulling it from the cradle looked for the number. I called the shop, spoke to the owner and told him what happened and that I wanted Emmy’s wedding attire completed in tomorrow. He told me that he’d work diligently to comply with my wishes and waived the extra fees for Emmy’s sake.

I called Prishi and told her the bad news and she was very upset upon hearing of Emmy’s passing. I told her I was giving her a command decision and that she had two hours to find me an excellent funeral home to handle the details of Emmy’s remains. It was now twelve-fifteen.

I returned to the table and informed Priya and Dad what I’d done and that I was waiting for Prishi’s call about two pm.

I called the hospital to check on Faatina’s condition and they said that her breathing tube had been removed and she was sleeping. The nurse said that her tiny body was in what’s called a recuperative slumber where the body shuts down while it fights off the disease. She told me they did a CAT scan of her brain this morning and I requested that the doctor call me with the results as soon as they were in. I asked if her mother or father was with her and they said that her father hasn’t been in to see her and that Alpa had left yesterday evening and hasn’t come in yet today.

I spoke to Priya and had her call her mother and see if they could make some arrangements for one of our drivers to be at Alpa’s disposal to get to and from the hospital.

While Priya was on the phone with her mother, Dad and I talked about the timetable of events for Emmy’s funeral. We were kind of in a holding pattern until I heard from Prishi on a funeral home.

I got a call from Prishi at one-thirty and she said that in the case of death in India of a foreign national, a letter from the American Embassy is required and then the hospital will embalm the body and turn it over to us. We may then have Emmy’s remains picked up by the cemetery personnel for burial. The family is usually responsible for preparing the body for burial such as final dressing. Most Indians cremate the dead except Muslims and Muslims generally don’t embalm because they bury their dead within forty-eight hours after death. They wash and anoint the body and wrap it in white linen. I was shocked. We would have to dress Emmy before the funeral.

I returned to the table ashen and Dad and Priya asked me what was wrong. I informed them of Prishi’s findings and that we would be responsible for carrying out Emmy’s last wishes. In the meantime, Mom had come downstairs and had heard what I’d said.

When Dad looked over at her, we turned to see Mom standing in the doorway. We visually followed her as she entered and sat. She heaved a sigh and said, “Sean, you and I will dress Emmy. I have no qualms about doing this for her, do you?”

“No, Mom,” I replied, “none at all.”

I scooted out my chair and said, “I’m going to call the U.S. embassy to get what I need done,” and left to make the call.

I called and asked to speak to Paul Whitfield and after giving his condolences, he told me to come by as soon as he could and he’d wait for me if I arrived past three pm. I called the hospital and luckily I got hold of Dr. Gupta. I told him I needed Emmy’s death certificate to take it to the U.S. embassy and he said he’d have it waiting when I arrived.

Monaavi was in the study with the girls, so I told Mom and Dad I was leaving for the hospital and then to the embassy. Priya asked to go so I got Emmy’s passport and we left.

After tracking down Dr. Gupta and receiving the necessary documents, I asked him how long he’d be here. He said he was on duty until eleven pm so I told him that after I obtained the release from the embassy, I’d return with the paperwork to have Emmy embalmed and he said that he’d take care of everything when I got back.

We left for the embassy and arrived at Paul’s office at four-twenty. Paul again offered his sympathy and condolences and completed the necessary forms. We thanked him for his staying late to accommodate us and left for the hospital.

Getting to the hospital and meeting Dr. Gupta again, and after he’d verified all the paperwork he left us to call the morgue. He returned about ten minutes later and said he managed to have Emmy’s remains embalmed in the morning and we could pick up her body after one pm. He gave us the necessary forms and instructions on where to go. We thanked him and left for home.

We arrived home at seven-thirty and everyone was about finished with dinner. Priya and I ate a bite and when we were finished, she took Leeya into the living room to watch a movie. I brought Mom and Dad up to speed on things and said we could pick Emmy up after one tomorrow.

Mom silently rose and walked to the study. We followed her and she said she was just calling the seamstress to make sure Emmy’s s clothes were ready tomorrow by noon. After haggling with him for fifteen minutes she told us he was going to work through the night to finish at the appointed time.

I called the cemetery, but got an answering machine so I left a message. Having finished all we could do for today, we joined Priya and Leeya in the living room. When the movie was finished, I told the girls it was time for evening prayers. We hugged and kissed my parents goodnight and went upstairs.

After prayers, we got cleaned up, undressed and then climbed into bed together. I held them close and poor Leeya was shaking. I quietly asked what was wrong and she replied, “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what, Baby?” I asked.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna die,” she gently cried. “I’m afraid that you’ll leave me and there’ll be a big hole in my heart that will never go away. I couldn’t live if I lost you.”

I hugged her gently to me and said soothingly, “I’m not gonna die. We still have to make baby Emmy right? Besides I’ve decided I want to grow old with you two. I want to see you grow up, grow boobies (I tweaked her tiny nipple bump and she giggled) and have babies. I can’t do that if I die, right?”

“Right,” she affirmed.

“Now,” I said, “let’s not have any more thoughts of anyone dying, alright? Let’s just live and love each other with all our hearts and be happy together.”

“Okay, Sean,” she said. “You know I love you so much, my heart is full of love for you.”

“I know, Sweetie,” I said as I kissed the back of her head, “Your love and Priya’s is what’s gonna keep me alive for many years to come, I promise.”

Priya hugged me from behind and added, “That’s one promise you’d better keep to both of us!”

I turned onto my back and pulled both of them close and said, “Let’s try and get some sleep, okay?”

Both girls kissed an arm and replied, “Yes, Husband.”

I said to both of them, “I love you girls.”

Each replied in unison, “I love you more.”

Although uneasy, we managed to get to sleep.

I woke at six-thirty and wasn’t looking forward to today at all. I roused the girls and after a few grumbles, we got up to prepare for the day. After performing our morning ritual we went downstairs at seven.

Mom was on the phone with the seamstress so before I sat to eat, so I called the cemetery again. I spoke to the owner and told him the situation. I asked him to arrive with his top of the line casket, which he was more than happy to comply with. He told me that he had a room in their main building for preparing bodies for burial and that he would meet us at the hospital at one. From there, we could go to the cemetery and prepare Emmy for burial.

Mom had finished her call and said that we could go to the seamstress’ at noon and pick up Emmy’s clothes. So, with the plan set, we sat to eat. I think Mom and I were on the same wavelength because we were relatively quiet while eating.

Attiya was doing a passable job of occupying Leeya with some childish kidding around. Dad had a bad case of jet lag and was still sleeping. When Monaavi arrived, we had tea and I filled her in on today’s agenda and she said she’d keep the girls occupied all day.

Priya asked to go and Mom asked her. “Priya, can you handle this? I remember that you did well at Liz’s funeral but this is gonna be different. Sean and I will actually be dressing her body and preparing her for burial. If you feel you might get sick or faint-hearted, it’s best you don’t go. This is going to be hard enough and I don’t want to have to attend to you if you get faint or get ill, understand?”

“I understand, Mom,” she said. “I know that I’ll be alright for her sake. I want to do my part as her sister to lay her to rest.”

“Okay then,” Mom replied. “Let’s get some things ready. We need to get her some lingerie, a hairbrush and curling iron and some make-up.”

Mom and Priya had everything ready and packed in a backpack and we left at eleven for the seamstress. We arrived at eleven forty-five. She spent another twenty minutes finishing Emmy’s dupatta and then packed everything for transport.

The driver had some trouble finding the morgue entrance but once there, we found the hearse was already there and waiting. I gave the attendant the necessary papers and he led us to the refrigerated drawer that contained Emmy’s body. He pulled the drawer out and we gasped when we first saw her. She was an ashen, bluish white and she had a look of peaceful slumber on her face.

I cried as I helped lift her nude body into the casket for transport. Mom and Priya were huddled together silently crying as they watched on. With Emmy in the hearse, we followed behind to the cemetery. On the ride to the cemetery, we were quiet but I took the time to think about her. Her wondrous smile and the way her button nose would crinkle when she smiled. Emmy’s rosy cheeks, the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and the sparkle of her brilliant azure blue eyes were only a memory.

I remember the first night here in India when I’d met her how her pinkish little toes poked out from under her sari. I thought about the softness of her lips and the way she kissed. I’d never been kissed with so much toe-curling passion by anyone else: even Priya. It’s as if she poured all her love into her kisses.

A kiss: such a simple thing and yet so very personal and intimate. A dissertation on one’s feelings can be expressed in a single kiss. Even the simple peck by a child defies explanation, its meaning so simple yet so profound.

I thought about our relationship. It seems strange that I felt that I loved her deeply but never got the chance to strengthen that relationship by learning what her hopes and dreams were for the future. Thinking back, I realized that her intense passion was not only fueled by her love for me but also for love itself. Having lost all that was important to her, I think she felt starved for love. A love that was extremely personal and intimate that she considered sacred to her and necessary for her survival.

Realizing that, I cursed myself for being such a fool. For being so smart, I was a real retarded fuck head for only seeing the passion and equating that with sex. I had forgotten the very lesson that I’d tried to impart to her that the brain is the greatest sex organ. I was continually thinking with my dick. A friend of mine made the observation that there’s a very thin line between love and lust and sometimes it’s hard to tell the two apart. In that regard, I had failed her and asked God for forgiveness.

My retrospection ended as we pulled into the cemetery. We pulled around back of the main building and parked as the hearse backed up to the service entrance. I helped the attendant put the casket on a dolly and we followed behind to the preparation room.

Once inside the room, it was very cold. We opened the casket, and lifted Emmy’s body onto the table. We were shaking, both from the cold and from not knowing where or how to begin.

The owner, Harib, saw our dilemma and said understandingly, “I show you what to do. Out of respect, I no touch body but tell you what to do, okay?”

We had tears in our eyes as he went to a cabinet and brought out some chemicals. He filled two buckets with water and stirred in the chemicals. The room became engulfed in a sweet smelling fragrance and he said, “Wash her body, make her smell sweet and pleasing to God.”

Mom and I started to reach in the buckets when he stopped us and said, “No, not safe, must wear gloves. Touching dead body can make very sick and die: wear gloves. Mom and I donned gloves and Mom started washing Emmy’s face and I started at her feet.

I never realized the symbolic importance of treating a corpse with reverence. I knew that Emmy’s spirit, the real Emmy that made her heart beat and gave life to the vessel we were washing was in heaven but it seemed fitting to treat her body with love in remembrance of her while she occupied this body.

Her body felt cold and stiff, the warmth from her heart gone now for two days. My tears mingled with the scented water and fell on her feet as I gently washed every crevice of her. I worked my way up her right leg to her thigh then moved to her left foot. Mom had finished with her face and neck and was new washing her chest.

Wearing gloves, Priya looked on as she gently held Emmy’s right stiff hand. I had finished with Emmy’s legs and Mom had finished with her upper body down to her hips. We looked at each other, and I said to mom, “You wash her vulva.”

Mom held herself back from crying and whispered, “She’s your wife, Sean you wash her.”

I felt such sadness at having to touch her like that. It was almost as if I didn’t have her permission to touch her intimately. I looked at Priya, then back and Mom and said, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Mom laid her gloved hand on mine and placed it on Emmy’s mons and said, “Do it with love and reverence.”

We tried to pull her legs apart, but could only manage a few inches. Mom said, “Just use your hand to wash her.”

I took the bucket and poured a little water over her mons and began to wash her vulva with my hand. This was the first time I’d seen her intimate area and her beauty was indescribable. Where her puffy lips curved downward into her crease, there was a gradated tinge of light coral pink. I washed her gently with my hand and dragged my finger through her crease gently twice. I told Mom, “There, it’s finished.”

Mom and I were sweating and decided to take a breather for a few minutes. After summoning the courage to finish, we gently turned her over and washed her. As I washed her buttocks I dragged my hand down the crease of her butt. When my hand came in contact with her anus, I could feel what felt like was a plug inserted. I asked Harib about it and he said that it’s customary to seal off all body openings including the nose and throat.

Once the bathing was completed, we dried her as best we could and Harib said to let her air dry for fifteen minutes.

Mom, Priya and I shed our gloves and Harib gave each of us a bottle of water. We didn’t say much as we drank in relative silence. When it was time to dress her, Mom opened the box that contained Emmy’s wedding attire. In the box lay a baby blue Lengha covered in sequins and stones along with the ornate and intricate embroidery work that Priya’s contained. I gasped at the beauty of the craftsmanship.

I slid her panties on and pulled them in place. I then lifted her up while Mom hooked her bra. I continued to hold her up as Mom slid her short choli over and down her arms then over her head. She pulled the garment down and straightened it in place. I held up Emmy’s hips as Mom slid the Lengha under her, wrapped it around her waist and fastened it.

Harib instructed us to put her into the coffin, which we did: me with her upper body and Priya and Mom with her legs. Once in place, Mom carefully and lovingly straightened her clothes.

I went to a chair, sat and wept as Mom and Priya began to fix Emmy’s hair and apply her make-up. When they’d finished, Priya draped the lemon yellow dupatta trimmed in baby blue over her head and straightened it.

I looked at my would-be bride and she looked like a princess from a long lost dynasty. Her Lengha and choli shimmered and sparked from the light reflecting off the sequins and stones. Her dupatta hid her face in a seductive, virginal way. She was breathtakingly beautiful!

Priya said, “She’s the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen! Her Momma and Daddy will be happy to see her.”

I swallowed hard to keep myself composed. Having finished, Harib wheeled the casket into a refrigerated locker and closed the door. We agreed on one viewing for tonight at eight and we’d bury her tomorrow.

It was now five-thirty and we headed for home. Mom said, “This may sound strange, but doing that for her gave me peace. I can now let her go with a peace in my heart that I’ve given her all I can give.”

I looked towards the Heavens and said, “Emmy, if you’re looking down on us, “You were right, you are the most beautiful bride in all of India!”

We arrived home at six and we then had everyone got ready for the viewing. After a quick shower and change, we were all ready to leave and drive to the cemetery at seven-fifteen. We’d decided that Attiya would not react well or understand death so Pita took her home. All present, my parents, Priya, Leeya, Monaavi and I paid our last respects to Emmy.

After seeing her, my father fell to his knees and sobbed. Mom fell to the floor, embraced him and broke down with him. Leeya looked at Emmy for a long while before turning and jumping into my arms crying and shaking. Priya was sitting in a chair, leaning over with her face in her hands weeping.

I know not from whence my strength came from, but I hugged my little wife to me and stroked her hair as I comforted her. When it was time to leave, Priya and Leeya kissed their fingers and placed them on Emmy’s lips. My dad leaned in and kissed her forehead then stroked her folded hands.

Mom leaned in and kissed her lips and whispered, “Sleep in peace my little angel.”

Monaavi prayed a Muslim prayer for her in Urdu and touched her shoulder.

I fell to my knees and sobbed for several minutes, while I held her tiny alabaster hands in mine. Mom and Dad tried to pull me away but I clung to her, not wanting that lid to close for the last time. I stood and leaned over just gazing at her sleeping in repose. As my tears fell, they darkened the lemon yellow dupatta that covered her face. I remembered Momma’s words when she said to love her memory but love is for the living. I now have two wives that needed me. Emmy needed me no more. I leaned in and whispered to her as she slept, “I have espoused you and will love you until the end of time.”

I turned and was enfolded in the arms of my wives and family. With one last look, we turned and left for home.