Choking Buds

2- Lake of Thoughts

She sighed happily as the cool water reached her knees and tiny fish tickled her feet. She had missed the lake, her favorite place in Pigeonville. Its clear waters glimmered and she had the urge to dive inside and feel weightless.

Elowen, however, seemed content to sit under a tree and arrange pebbles in a pattern.

"How long?"

"I could stay here forever, but we have that letter-to-me-which-is-just-a-mistake to read."

"A mistake?" Elowen echoed. She flicked her hand gracefully and a pebble flew into the water, making it ripple. The sound reminded Marwa of a Tajweed lesson.

Qalqalah means unrest, Ustadha said. "Ahad"—release the "da" at the end, like a dip and rise.

"Like when something falls in the water?" They looked up in surprise at the source of the voice. They hadn't noticed Elowen in the room, listening attentively.

Marwa smiled. It was the same day she had caught Ella following her in the hallway at midnight. She had looked so guilty, as if listening to her reciting Quraan was a crime. Well, Susan had indeed disapproved of a Christian child taking interest in another faith.

A pebble hit her from behind.

"How do you know it's a mistake?"

She shrugged. "What else could it be?"

"Maybe your famil-"

She gave a sharp look. "Seriously? We both know they're...gone. I wouldn't be here if they were alive."

Guilt twinged inside her as soon as she realised how her words sounded. Elowen was here despite her parents being alive...well, most of the girls were.

She dared a glance at her friend. Elowen stared back at her blankly.

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry...I..."

Elowen waved dismissively. "No matter."

She hesitated before getting out of the water and motioning to leave, hoping Elowen really didn't care and wasn't hiding her feelings. There was no way to know with her.

They reached the cottage and found the door closed. Sitting on the steps, they waited in silence, the faraway scent of tea leaves in the air.

Marwa ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the steps. It was right here that she had lain, crying and covered in splinters from the accident. She played with her short fingers. Did she get her olive skin from her mother or father? Did her twin have the same black eyes and hair as hers?

Questions that she would not know the answers to, atleast not in this world.

She shook her head. What did it matter what they had looked like?

The question she should ask was—would she be the same person if she had grown up with her true family?

The sun had crossed the sky and hung in the middle when she heard heavy claps of hooves and the grind of wheels against land. A bullock cart stopped at the cottage. The girls pulled their scarves across their faces as a skinny man with a coconut cap hopped out and stopped short.

"Ah, children. Lalitha had told me to give you the letter. Wait while I fetch it."

They nodded. The man went inside and returned after some time. He was a tea planter, and his wife and little son adored Marwa- as did nearly everyone in the village.

"I can't find it, child. She said it's in the shelf but God knows where she kept it." He shook his head. "Want some biscuits and tea?"

"Thank you uncle, but we have to go. Where are aunty and Minnu?"

"I left them at the town, child. They'll return after selling the harvest."

Marwa plucked a flower absent-mindedly on the walk back.

"I know you're getting impatient." Elowen said. "How about we build some theories while we wait?"

Marwa scowled. "What could it be?"

"Maybe it's finally the prince of your dreams?" Elowen smirked at her.

"Sure it is, maybe my dua has been answered." Marwa clutched her heart dramatically.

"You're making dua? Mar, you're still young."

"It's never too early to make dua! Ooh and don't worry, I've made dua for you too."

Elowen hit her with a branch. "You what?"

"Who's smirking now?" Marwa looked smug. "Besides, I think I already know who's your future pri-"

"Who?"

Marwa smirked even harder. "The Imam's son-"

Elowen hit her harder. Marwa massaged her shoulder, grimacing in pain. "So I'm right! You do li-"

"I don't, but you can dream all you like."

Marwa was about to tease her but stopped seeing the glare she was getting. She smiled to herself. Until now, it was a joke, but it seemed like there was some truth to it. The Imam of the village Masjid had three sons and the youngest one had led the taraweeh last Ramadan. Elowen had admired his recitation and Marwa would poke fun at her everytime they passed by the young man near the masjid.

Neither had even looked at the other but Marwa was planning their wedding in her head already. She sighed dreamily.

"You'll make a perfect couple. Your kids will be tall like both of you, and-"

Elowen closed her mouth and dragged her to the manor.

"Where were you two?" Amina looked at them with her arms folded, but lips  pressed into a fond smile. She was the caretaker and in-charge of the orphanage. She wasn't very old, though her face looked aged with fine lines— lines etched by the sorrow of widowhood. She was the sister-in-law of the Imam. All the girls called her Amma, because she was the closest thing they had to a mother.

Marwa told her about not finding the letter yet and how it was killing her. Amma smiled, amused; and told them to have lunch after praying.