The Visit

a short story by T. S, Raman

Reshma walked out of the elevator and turned the corner to the lobby. A woman was sitting in one of the armchairs, composed, her head down bent. Her thick black hair, parted in the center, fell straight to her shoulders as she looked down at a book in her lap. Reshma hesitated, not recognizing her childhood friend in this closed woman. She looks unhappy but perhaps she’s just tired from the flight? Well at least she doesn’t look middle aged Reshma thought, with a twinge of relief.

“Lena” Reshma sang out, smiling.

The woman looked up, her face expressionless. Without a perceptible change in expression she said ‘Oh Hi. You look like Rose now. Just like Rose” referring to Reshma’s older sister. Her voice was pleasing, soft yet clear and carrying. A teacher’s voice, pitched to carry to the back of the class.

“Are you trying to tell me I’ve put on weight? ” Reshma smiled. “I can’t believe you’re here, so out of the blue. I’m so sorry we couldn’t come to the airport. How was the ride? “

Lena nodded, “Fine. I was in Raleigh at a conference and I thought I have six hours in New York, let me try. If I get to see her, then I was meant to see her. So, I called Rose in Singapore and she gave me your number and I called you.”

It was no exaggeration to say they had known each other from birth. The families, immigrants from the same town in Kerala, in South West India, lived right next door to each other in Singapore. Their mothers had conceived, gone into labor and delivered on the same day in the same hospital. Reshma’s mother always complained about her difficult labor with Reshma. “Of all my seven children, Reshma gave me the most trouble. Coming out with her legs first. Silly girl. All the others were easy.” It was a nice way of saying that she had come out flashing her vagina, proudly proclaiming her sex. What did you expect Reshma thought – I probably knew in the womb that my father wanted a boy.

When they were babies, Reshma and Lena spent every afternoon together. One of the mothers would look after the two babies while the other mother got some time to herself for a much needed nap, or a quiet cup of tea or, more likely, for the myriad chores that needed to be done. By age five, the girls had become constant companions, playing together everyday, sharing meals, sleeping in each other’s beds. When it came time to go to school, they walked to and back from school together every day, and in class, they sat next to each other. This was the pattern right up to high school.

It was Lena’s first time in New York, in fact her first time to the States. To Reshma’s surprise her husband, Sean, offered to drive them around the city. “Don’t we have the kids this weekend? “ referring to Seans’ kids from his first marriage, Brian and Barbara. She knew how much he treasured his time with them. “They can come with us - she’s your first childhood friend that I am meeting.” He drove them around the East Village, West Village, Chelsea, Times Square, and Central Park. Barbara, who was seven, was excited to be allowed to sit upfront on Reshma’s lap. Sean created his own personal map and history of the city, kept up a running commentary, shared private memories, referred to all the places that he and Reshma had visited together. Reshma pointed out landmarks and sites of interest: Washington Square Park, NYU law school, Cooper Union. When they drove through Tribecca, she pointed out Bubby’s where they had celebrated their wedding with a champagne brunch.
Besides her occasional remarks and Brian and Barbara's teasing volleys at each other in the back seat, it was quiet in the car. Reshma thought back to her first few months in New York and how overwhelmed she had felt by the constant demand to be articulate, to have interesting insights, to have a verbal response to everything. She had found it exhausting. When had she grown used to it she wondered? Now, it was the quiet in the car that seemed strange. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly but now she realized how she must have appeared when she first moved to New York: unfriendly or uninteresting. She glanced at Sean who smiled and squeezed her hand.

In the West Village they stopped at Kati Roll on McDougal Street so Lena could get a snack while Sean and the children waited in the car. Seated across from each other on wooden chairs in the small space, Lena opened up, complimenting her on her new family, her friendly husband. Over chicken tika rolls Reshma looked at pictures of Lena’s family, dressed up for a niece’s wedding. Lena was beautiful in a highly ornate green sari, heavy jewelry around her neck and a thin chain running through her center parting, ending in a small disc on her forehead. The girls flanked her on both sides, two sizes of the same girl; pretty and smiling eleven and thirteen year olds. A casual early morning shot of her husband, Raj with the two girls, smiling, tousled hair, rumpled bedclothes.

“You’re still so slim” said Reshma “even after two kids. I can’t believe I’ve never met your daughters. What are their names?”

“You are still so lovely - I have to call your mother when I get back. Bharati and Beena .

Oh, the B thing – just like my step kids.

Yes, I was thinking that when I heard their names. Your mother looks so young – she was at Hema’s, my niece’s, wedding. When was the last time you saw her – and your other family? ”

“Last year – they all came for the wedding. I should have brought photos. Mum has them, you can ask her. “
Lena asked several questions about the wedding, so Reshma described the brief Buddhist ceremony, her orange sari and the Country Club. Reshma debated whether to bring up Lena’s mother who had died several years ago. Truth be told she could not remember when it had happened, felt that it must have happened when she was away, living in Copenhagen but she was not entirely sure. Reshma remembered Lena’s mother as a sickly, timid, fussy woman who was always cautioning her children against dangers, real and imagined. So much so that they stopped paying her any heed. As a child, Lena had been envious of Reshma’s mother: young, beautiful, healthy and unconcerned about her daughter playing in the alley behind the apartment until dusk or walking to the store by herself. When Reshma asked for a photo of the girls, Lena smiled, perhaps for the first time that day.

Are you working? Lena asked with an intent look on her face.

Reshma looked down for a moment. Of course she would know about her struggle to find work, the long bouts of unemployment.

Yes, its going well. It wasn’t easy at first – you might have heard from my Mum. I just had a hard time breaking in. Even after grad school, it took a while but now I work in a theatre close to Times Square. Its only administrative – and marketing - but it’s a well known company and the work is very interesting. I feel pretty lucky.

What do you do?

Well, I organize the events and support the membership. I deal with the donors and patrons.

You are so outgoing – it sounds like a good fit.

Thanks – what about you? You are still teaching of course? How is it?

Lena was teaching in the same school since her graduation, one of the top three schools in the country. There was tremendous pressure to make sure that all the students performed well during exams. They were implementing a new science curriculum and she was here for teacher training. She had met with some of her counterparts at the conference and it was an eye opening experience to hear the amount of input they were given into the curriculum. In Singpaore, it was standard curriculum mandated by the Ministry of Education. That was sort of why her husband had left teaching – the bureaucracy. He had been working as the PR rep for a multi national company in Singapore but they had down sized and now he was looking for work.

After dropping them at Times Square, Sean had to leave to take the kids back home as it was a school day the next day. Lena thanked him warmly, saying how special she felt to be given such a detailed tour of the city, how her daughters would be green with envy, how nice his children were.

As they walked along Times Square to the souvenir shop, Lena asked if she missed Singapore.

“What is there to miss? The overbearing, interfering government? The rude, coarse people? The lack of interests – the obsession with money and material goods? What is there to miss? My family, yes I miss them but other then that no.” Almost as soon as she had spoken, Reshma regretted her remarks. The angry words had just flown out of her mouth. She had learned not to be critical about Singapore with her sisters who would be offended, and become defensive and sometimes retaliated by making fun of her. She waited apprehensively for Lena’s response.

Lena nodded calmly. “I tell my girls to leave Singapore. I tell them to go elsewhere. We have taken them to Australia and New Zealand several times on holidays. We’ve even visited Kerala where their grandparents are from. And Indonesia - so they can see other parts of Asia. “

After a pause,

“You have friends here?”

“No, not really. One or two. My Buddhist group. My husband’s friends.” Reshma shrugged. “It was difficult at first. Now it’s OK.”

Another pause,

“What about you? Do you keep in touch with your school friends? “
“No” with a laugh
Oh, how about university friends ?
“No” again with a laugh and shake of the head.

They stopped at the MTV store and Reshma pointed out a black T-shirt with the letters MTV in sequins.
“Oh, they would like these’ said Lena referring to her daughters. “That’s all they wear these days. Black – preferably with holes. Nothing sweet or pretty anymore.” She looked at the price tag, $24 “Oh, I don’t spend that much on them.”

“Hmm” said Reshma thinking of the “Build a Bear” workshop that she had felt pressured into buying for her stepdaughter, Barbara, two months ago - $50 for a toy for a seven year old. Ahh, for the simple life of motherhood…

They moved on to the souvenir store where, after looking through all the T shirts, Lena bought two T shirts with New York City on it for her daughters. Reshma pointed out a refrigerator magnet with the Statue of Liberty that her mother had bought the last time she was in New York, and Lena bought it for her mother in law. They discovered that the Empire State building models were on sale and she bought four for her colleagues. And two more gifts for her daughters, two wallets with New York City on it.

When they passed Madame Tussard’s there was a crowd around the Michael Jackson model. Reshma took a picture as Lena posed next to it. They entered the lobby looked around, checked admission prices and left.

It was already five pm and Lena had to be at JFK airport by 6 pm. They decided to take the risk and squeeze in a visit to the Empire State Building. As they were trying to flag down a taxi, a pedicab driver came up to them and offered a ride for $10.

“I don’t even know what this is called” said Lena as they climbed in

“A pedicab” said Reshma as they started moving. “.I’ve never been in one before either. Wow, I feel really exposed, oh, I feel really vulnerable.” They weaved in and out of traffic and it felt odd, yet liberating, to be in the middle of traffic, yet not in a car or bus.

He turned out to be a good driver and guide pointing out landmarks and views. He had been in the city twenty years he said and had just started driving a pedi cab. He really liked it. He was scrawny with muscular legs and arms. As they arrived at the Empire State Building, he asked them to look behind. They had an uninterrupted view of thirty fifth Street stretched out behind them, buildings on both sides. Reshma let Lena pay and suggested that she add a $2 tip. She said that she would also give him a $2 tip.

“Oh, so he will think you are a nice lady” said Lena.

“Uh” , said Reshma. “There I was thinking I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart.”


In the lobby, the sign said that there was a 15 minutes to thirty minutes wait. Again they hesitated, checking watches. Then they rushed up.

It was mild, breezy and pleasant on top.

“It’s nicer then I expected. Its quite fun isn’t it?” Reshma asked.

Lena nodded and took another photo when some people in front of them moved away. There were still crowds of people around.

“Well, what about our old friends from Trafalgar school?” Reshma asked referring to their elementary school.

“Some of them were at Hema’s wedding. In fact her husband is related to Pandan – do you remember him? And I saw C. Suranaim at the wedding.”

“I don’t really remember him. But how was he? “

“We talked about you. He said that you and I were bullies. That I, and my friend, made his life miserable.” Lena looked her in the eye, delivered the words very matter of factly.

Reshma and Lena looked at each other in silence.

“I don’t really remember it…” said Reshma. She stopped, not finishing her sentence. The words sounded stiff and false in her ears.

“No” said Lena . They were silent for a minute.

“Anyway, it was a long time ago. We were kids.”

Lena nodded.

Reshma said “ I think about it sometimes – how we bullied the other kids. But we were just kids, right? It was what we knew from home. Anyway, we are nice to kids now isn’t that what counts?”

The elevator trip back down was quick and smooth. They hailed a cab and as Lena moved to get in, Reshma placed an arm around Lena’s shoulders and gave a quick hug. The usual platitudes of farewell raced through Reshma’s mind– “great seeing you”, “keep in touch”, “do you email?”

Reshma said “Thanks for calling.” She stood and waited until the cab moved off. Her last glimpse was of Lena looking down at lap.