Judy decided to meet Mr. Abraham in his mansion. She knew that she would be facing the lion in its den. They had never met face to face before, as far as she could recall, though they had seen each other across the distances.
Judy disclosed her decision to her mother. Hagar got frightened. She feared for her daughter’s life. She rebuked her for taking such a resolve. She even forbade her to visit his home.
When the neighbors heard of Judy’s plan they too resented her planned visit to Abraham’s home. Her intimate friends warned her that taking such a step would be dangerous and suicidal. Co-workers in the hospital shared their view that she might be exposed to public humiliation or even to an accidental death. They advised her to reconsider her decision.
Mr. Abraham and his family were rich, highly influential, and also politically powerful. Abraham was the don of the town.
But Judy was resolute. She wanted to put an end to the rumors and calumnies about her family, and to terminate her mental agony once for all.
On a Sunday, just after the Church functions, Judy went straight to Abraham’s mansion.
Abraham was in his living room, relaxing on an easy chair, and reading the newspaper.
Judy entered the room without a word. She made no sound. She stood in front of him.
“Who’s it?” He asked, without raising his head.
“It is me, Judy, the daughter of Hagar.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to meet my father, and talk to him.”
He then set aside his paper, and looked at the lady and quietly inquired, “Why the hell you cam here? Who’s your father?”
“You.”
“Me? Oh Jesus Christ, what a joke! Who told you the lie?”
“Friends, relations and neighbors.”
“Gossip mongers! Story tellers and liars.”
“My mother swore and confessed the truth.”
He grimaced at her innocence and simplicity. He told, “Your mother? Oh she must be mad!”
“Yes. Indeed she was. But you weren’t and you aren’t today. Had you been really mad after her, and had she been shrewd and cunning, I would have been the princess of this palace.”
Her words were measured and cutting. They fell on him like a bolt from the blue.
“What? What did you say?”
He got up from the chair, and slapped her on her face.
“How dare you say such a bull-shit to my face, you devilish?”
He trembled with rage.
The impact of the blow was severe. It echoed in the whole mansion. It sent in waves of crucial pain all over her body. Her rosy cheeks became red with welts. Her eyes turned to fire balls. She contorted in pain, yet controlled herself. She did not shed a single tear, but just stared at him and said slowly and firmly, “Sir, I know how to kick your ball, and have done so to my aggressors many a time. Shitting at one’s father’s face is not in my blood.”
“You, daughter of a bitch, what the hell are you talking? You’re my daughter! What proof do you have?” He roared like a wounded animal.
“Ask your family doctor. Who did give you blood when you were beaten up and brought to the hospital unconscious and bleeding? My blood saved you, not some strange nurse’s.
“Whoever has the same blood group as mine, are they all my relations?”
“Not every Dick and Harry, sir. But some souls are indeed. Look at this. My Mama got it twenty five years ago.”
Judy showed him a golden ring studded with a stone and a name imprinted on it.
“Sir, isn’t it yours?”
“Yes, it was a gift. So what’s so great about that?”
“Your timely and tiny gift for Mama! And you gave her also an eternal gift of you in flesh and bone. Didn’t you?”
“Don’t provoke me, young lady. I can get very nasty. Didn’t you know your mother was a bitch of easy means? She should have thought of well, while she was sucking and f… with me.”
“Of course, she did consider. That’s why Mama kept your gift so long. She nursed and nurtured it, and brought it up only thinking of her donor, and lived a life worthy him. I’m not here to plead for Mama. Poor woman! That was her maiden love and you deflowered her. I’m not begging you to take back your gifts….”
“Bullshit. What do you want? Do you want me to redeem you?”
“No.”
“Then for what are you here? To demand money? Compensation? Share in my property? You lousy snake-ling will get nothing. You have no room here. Get out of my sight before I throw you out.” He thundered. Then he shouted for his sons.
“Where the hell are you? Don’t you see this hissing viper hitting me?”
He looked around and saw them.
All the members of his family were in the living room watching the drama. The eldest son Isaac and his family, Jacob and his family, Joseph the youngest, and all his stooges and servants were there. They have seen and heard everything, and remained silent spectators. They could not interfere whenever their father was in control. They knew that the Patriarch himself would solve and settle whatever he had started with.
Moreover Judy had stunned them.
Despite the hurt and humiliation Judy never gave up the fight. She spoke calmly and resolutely, “Sir, I already told you, I’m here not to ask for favor or share or rights.”
“Then what the hell you want from me? You want to defame me? Disgrace and destroy my family?”
“What does a daughter gain by hurting her father? A curse for life? What does she earn by slandering her own kin and kindred? Bloody vengeance? No. No. I came here only to seek the truth of my life from your mouth. I wanted meet my father, yes my daddy at least once in my life. Had there ever been such a one, he would have been a wonderful man, a proud person with stamina to stand out; brave and bold, gentle and generous like the Patriarch Abraham. Sir, you don’t have to worry about me nor have to throw me out. I will leave at once. Now I am convinced. I’m not your seed. I’m not of your blood and bone. You are not my daddy.”
While the wonderstruck inmates were watching, Judy threw the golden ring unto the easy chair. She slowly withdrew from the room. She crossed the veranda and stepped into the courtyard. She walked manly on the sandy path lined by flower-decks towards the gate as if nothing happened.
The old man leaning on the main door viewed her exit with awe. While gazing at the ongoing figure his mind mumbled. ‘Like her father smart and shrewd.’
As moments tickled by, his sight became dimmer and the inner sanctum brighter. His eyes were filled with tears. His lips began to shiver. From the depth of his heart he cried out, ‘My child…’
It slowly dawned on him, how deeply he had longed for a daughter, how hard he had prayed, how badly Sara had felt for an heiress until she breathed her last. She bore three sons for him, never a daughter. But Hagar, his housemaid gave him a beautiful girl, the seed of his wanton love. It was his first and best gift, indeed perfect but out of law. He could not take her in. From a far off distance he cared for her and her mother. He had watched her grow and blossom, his first born child. Often he had nightmares and wept bitterly alone in the silence of chilly nights. The devout Sara’s pleas were no comfort for him. They knew Hagar was ever a faithful servant and her child beautiful. They had quarreled and cried for them over the law. He was afraid that the curse of a virgin mother would be upon him and his posterity for seven generations. As years passed he realized why Sara did not bear a baby girl for him. He shuddered at the thought of his daughter haunting him even after his death.
Suddenly he felt weak and crumbling along with his empire. He held on to the handle of the door. He knew that he has been defeated by his own seed fallen over the law.
For the last fifty years, he had struggled successfully as a mechanic. Life was hard for him. He labored like a donkey and lived like a bull. The machine made him rough and tough, and taught him the ways of reason and season. He earned wealth, power, name, fame, influence and authority. He had bowed to none, but made others bow to him by reasoning and persuasion. He has now a big family and a world of business. He lived like a don, and enjoyed playing Godfather to all those who had sought his help. He had stood like a rock to the storms.
Was he now falling? Faltering and stumbling on that weed? He realized that there was no rock without a hidden crack, no fort without an unseen hole, no success without a pinch of blemish, no muscles without tender tissues. She had hit him, where he was most vulnerable, on the soft fabric of his pride.
“Oh Jesus….no…no” He shouted, “I won’t give up.”
He groped for Aaron’s stick.
Isaac his eldest son, came and stood before him comfortingly.
“Daddy,” He spoke softly, “Strike the iron while it is hot, so that our mama’s soul may rest in peace forever. You will be content and composed forever, and we will be free from the curse of a woman. Our home will be happier and stronger than before. You shouldn’t go down the hill. We won’t let you down. We want you to straighten the line right away. We will make it an accident. We will give mother and daughter a decent burial.”
After a long pause, the don ordered his son to call for the elders of the family. He then asked for his white shawl and umbrella. He caught hold of the walking stick, and said, “I have business to do right now. I will settle the account. I will be back soon.”
He went out of the house like a whirlwind.
As he reached the main road, he saw Judy at a distance, standing on the side of the road, seemingly waiting for the bus. He walked forward. He stopped in front of her. He looked at her face and confessed loudly, “My child, I did hurt you badly. Didn’t I? ”
“No papa, never. You can never hurt your only daughter.”
“I’m sorry. Come on in. It’s very warm outside. Let us go.”
The Don and the beautiful lady walked together under the umbrella, towards the Church.
The people around saw that for the first time in their life. Bemused and bewildered, they stood up with reverence and gazed at the passing figures, the don and his daughter.
Joseph Kaval is a freelance writer since 1960, writing both in English and Malayalam, his mother-tongue. He writes essays, criticisms, book reviews, short stories, and novels, and has so far published 200 short stories and five novels. He conducts classes on creative writing for college students while editing Katha Kshetre, an international literary quarterly in English from Bengaluru since 1999. Contact him at joseph.kaval@gmail.com or kathalok@vsnl.net. Visit him at www.josephkaval.webs.com and http://jk-kathalok.blogspot.com/
Judy disclosed her decision to her mother. Hagar got frightened. She feared for her daughter’s life. She rebuked her for taking such a resolve. She even forbade her to visit his home.
When the neighbors heard of Judy’s plan they too resented her planned visit to Abraham’s home. Her intimate friends warned her that taking such a step would be dangerous and suicidal. Co-workers in the hospital shared their view that she might be exposed to public humiliation or even to an accidental death. They advised her to reconsider her decision.
Mr. Abraham and his family were rich, highly influential, and also politically powerful. Abraham was the don of the town.
But Judy was resolute. She wanted to put an end to the rumors and calumnies about her family, and to terminate her mental agony once for all.
On a Sunday, just after the Church functions, Judy went straight to Abraham’s mansion.
Abraham was in his living room, relaxing on an easy chair, and reading the newspaper.
Judy entered the room without a word. She made no sound. She stood in front of him.
“Who’s it?” He asked, without raising his head.
“It is me, Judy, the daughter of Hagar.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to meet my father, and talk to him.”
He then set aside his paper, and looked at the lady and quietly inquired, “Why the hell you cam here? Who’s your father?”
“You.”
“Me? Oh Jesus Christ, what a joke! Who told you the lie?”
“Friends, relations and neighbors.”
“Gossip mongers! Story tellers and liars.”
“My mother swore and confessed the truth.”
He grimaced at her innocence and simplicity. He told, “Your mother? Oh she must be mad!”
“Yes. Indeed she was. But you weren’t and you aren’t today. Had you been really mad after her, and had she been shrewd and cunning, I would have been the princess of this palace.”
Her words were measured and cutting. They fell on him like a bolt from the blue.
“What? What did you say?”
He got up from the chair, and slapped her on her face.
“How dare you say such a bull-shit to my face, you devilish?”
He trembled with rage.
The impact of the blow was severe. It echoed in the whole mansion. It sent in waves of crucial pain all over her body. Her rosy cheeks became red with welts. Her eyes turned to fire balls. She contorted in pain, yet controlled herself. She did not shed a single tear, but just stared at him and said slowly and firmly, “Sir, I know how to kick your ball, and have done so to my aggressors many a time. Shitting at one’s father’s face is not in my blood.”
“You, daughter of a bitch, what the hell are you talking? You’re my daughter! What proof do you have?” He roared like a wounded animal.
“Ask your family doctor. Who did give you blood when you were beaten up and brought to the hospital unconscious and bleeding? My blood saved you, not some strange nurse’s.
“Whoever has the same blood group as mine, are they all my relations?”
“Not every Dick and Harry, sir. But some souls are indeed. Look at this. My Mama got it twenty five years ago.”
Judy showed him a golden ring studded with a stone and a name imprinted on it.
“Sir, isn’t it yours?”
“Yes, it was a gift. So what’s so great about that?”
“Your timely and tiny gift for Mama! And you gave her also an eternal gift of you in flesh and bone. Didn’t you?”
“Don’t provoke me, young lady. I can get very nasty. Didn’t you know your mother was a bitch of easy means? She should have thought of well, while she was sucking and f… with me.”
“Of course, she did consider. That’s why Mama kept your gift so long. She nursed and nurtured it, and brought it up only thinking of her donor, and lived a life worthy him. I’m not here to plead for Mama. Poor woman! That was her maiden love and you deflowered her. I’m not begging you to take back your gifts….”
“Bullshit. What do you want? Do you want me to redeem you?”
“No.”
“Then for what are you here? To demand money? Compensation? Share in my property? You lousy snake-ling will get nothing. You have no room here. Get out of my sight before I throw you out.” He thundered. Then he shouted for his sons.
“Where the hell are you? Don’t you see this hissing viper hitting me?”
He looked around and saw them.
All the members of his family were in the living room watching the drama. The eldest son Isaac and his family, Jacob and his family, Joseph the youngest, and all his stooges and servants were there. They have seen and heard everything, and remained silent spectators. They could not interfere whenever their father was in control. They knew that the Patriarch himself would solve and settle whatever he had started with.
Moreover Judy had stunned them.
Despite the hurt and humiliation Judy never gave up the fight. She spoke calmly and resolutely, “Sir, I already told you, I’m here not to ask for favor or share or rights.”
“Then what the hell you want from me? You want to defame me? Disgrace and destroy my family?”
“What does a daughter gain by hurting her father? A curse for life? What does she earn by slandering her own kin and kindred? Bloody vengeance? No. No. I came here only to seek the truth of my life from your mouth. I wanted meet my father, yes my daddy at least once in my life. Had there ever been such a one, he would have been a wonderful man, a proud person with stamina to stand out; brave and bold, gentle and generous like the Patriarch Abraham. Sir, you don’t have to worry about me nor have to throw me out. I will leave at once. Now I am convinced. I’m not your seed. I’m not of your blood and bone. You are not my daddy.”
While the wonderstruck inmates were watching, Judy threw the golden ring unto the easy chair. She slowly withdrew from the room. She crossed the veranda and stepped into the courtyard. She walked manly on the sandy path lined by flower-decks towards the gate as if nothing happened.
The old man leaning on the main door viewed her exit with awe. While gazing at the ongoing figure his mind mumbled. ‘Like her father smart and shrewd.’
As moments tickled by, his sight became dimmer and the inner sanctum brighter. His eyes were filled with tears. His lips began to shiver. From the depth of his heart he cried out, ‘My child…’
It slowly dawned on him, how deeply he had longed for a daughter, how hard he had prayed, how badly Sara had felt for an heiress until she breathed her last. She bore three sons for him, never a daughter. But Hagar, his housemaid gave him a beautiful girl, the seed of his wanton love. It was his first and best gift, indeed perfect but out of law. He could not take her in. From a far off distance he cared for her and her mother. He had watched her grow and blossom, his first born child. Often he had nightmares and wept bitterly alone in the silence of chilly nights. The devout Sara’s pleas were no comfort for him. They knew Hagar was ever a faithful servant and her child beautiful. They had quarreled and cried for them over the law. He was afraid that the curse of a virgin mother would be upon him and his posterity for seven generations. As years passed he realized why Sara did not bear a baby girl for him. He shuddered at the thought of his daughter haunting him even after his death.
Suddenly he felt weak and crumbling along with his empire. He held on to the handle of the door. He knew that he has been defeated by his own seed fallen over the law.
For the last fifty years, he had struggled successfully as a mechanic. Life was hard for him. He labored like a donkey and lived like a bull. The machine made him rough and tough, and taught him the ways of reason and season. He earned wealth, power, name, fame, influence and authority. He had bowed to none, but made others bow to him by reasoning and persuasion. He has now a big family and a world of business. He lived like a don, and enjoyed playing Godfather to all those who had sought his help. He had stood like a rock to the storms.
Was he now falling? Faltering and stumbling on that weed? He realized that there was no rock without a hidden crack, no fort without an unseen hole, no success without a pinch of blemish, no muscles without tender tissues. She had hit him, where he was most vulnerable, on the soft fabric of his pride.
“Oh Jesus….no…no” He shouted, “I won’t give up.”
He groped for Aaron’s stick.
Isaac his eldest son, came and stood before him comfortingly.
“Daddy,” He spoke softly, “Strike the iron while it is hot, so that our mama’s soul may rest in peace forever. You will be content and composed forever, and we will be free from the curse of a woman. Our home will be happier and stronger than before. You shouldn’t go down the hill. We won’t let you down. We want you to straighten the line right away. We will make it an accident. We will give mother and daughter a decent burial.”
After a long pause, the don ordered his son to call for the elders of the family. He then asked for his white shawl and umbrella. He caught hold of the walking stick, and said, “I have business to do right now. I will settle the account. I will be back soon.”
He went out of the house like a whirlwind.
As he reached the main road, he saw Judy at a distance, standing on the side of the road, seemingly waiting for the bus. He walked forward. He stopped in front of her. He looked at her face and confessed loudly, “My child, I did hurt you badly. Didn’t I? ”
“No papa, never. You can never hurt your only daughter.”
“I’m sorry. Come on in. It’s very warm outside. Let us go.”
The Don and the beautiful lady walked together under the umbrella, towards the Church.
The people around saw that for the first time in their life. Bemused and bewildered, they stood up with reverence and gazed at the passing figures, the don and his daughter.
Joseph Kaval is a freelance writer since 1960, writing both in English and Malayalam, his mother-tongue. He writes essays, criticisms, book reviews, short stories, and novels, and has so far published 200 short stories and five novels. He conducts classes on creative writing for college students while editing Katha Kshetre, an international literary quarterly in English from Bengaluru since 1999. Contact him at joseph.kaval@gmail.com or kathalok@vsnl.net. Visit him at www.josephkaval.webs.com and http://jk-kathalok.blogspot.com/
