A NEW LIFE

The whole world around her plunged in darkness; of course the whole world around her at the moment was the small room of the elevator. It was an old fashioned elevator, perhaps had been used for years. She should have known and made use of the stairs. After all from the third floor it would not have been much of climbing down. She touched her coat’s inner pockets. It had been a long time since she had worn it. Those pockets were made on purpose. They were very convenient when she was active in her profession.

It was cold.

Even as she felt scared being caught in the elevator all alone, she felt a bit of relief too. She had done it.

She brought to her mind what had happened that night. From the moment she reached the apartment which housed the locker room……………

She stroked her chest to soothe her pounding heart. One of the keys from the bunch fitted perfectly. A smooth click and she was inside a small room. She closed the door and bolted it from the inside. The curtains were partially drawn. The street lights threw dim rays inside, but it was still dark and she stumbled on pieces of furniture. After a few minutes her eyes grew sharper and could see a closed door on the left. On the right was another door which was kept open. She reached the closed door at the far left end of the room. It was locked.

She tried patiently one key after the other from the bunch. She got it right with the third key. Suddenly she gasped and stood still. The loud bang stopped her heart for a moment. She bent again after she realized that it was the church clock which had started striking. The time was twelve, mid-night.

That lock was stiff. But she was sure that it was the right key. She took the key out and again pushed it inside the hole as far as it would go. It moved half way and stopped. She tried again, this time not pushing it too far. With some coaxing, the lock gave way.

She stood inside a room with steel lockers. It was very dark inside but she could make out the forms. She switched on the phone. The lockers looked pitch black, lined along the three walls. The rolling metal ladder stood in a corner, a few shades lighter against the lockers. She found the switch on the wall and pressed it on.

 The sudden flood of light was blinding. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Adjusting her specs she let her eyes roam all over the room. The lockers reached the ceiling. There were a hundred and fifty on each of the three sides; On the door side the wall was blank. So that made it four hundred and fifty lockers, totally. She had two keys left in the bunch; one key would open the locker she had come for.

She realized it was not easy. She developed a plan in her mind. She should try both the keys for each locker and move on to the next.

By three she should be out. She should try at least ten in a minute. It would take her about an hour to check all. If lucky, she would get the right one in a few minutes. The time showed a quarter past twelve. She decided to start from the top. The first three rows from the top on all sides should be checked first.

She could move the ladder with her legs, holding on to the lockers but was worried over the noise it made. Would it wake the people below? She came out and peeped into the other room which had its door open. As she had guessed it was the kitchen. She got what she looked for in the kitchen; there was a bottle of oil. She oiled the caster wheels and moved the ladder. It was better. It made less noise. She got on to the top of the ladder and reached the topmost row of lockers. After reaching the top she realized that the lockers were all rusted and the keys holes too showed rust outside. More oil for the keys and she had to get down again. She was getting tired and found it difficult to breathe normally. At last she started trying the keys in each key hole………..

“Fyama!” she remembered Tuto’s voice calling out to her. He called her that way; it was a combination of her name Fyeri and “mama”. She loved it. Once in a month the kids from the orphanage visited them. It was an arrangement between the two homes – the home for the aged and the orphanage. Among the aged in the care home, Fyeri and a few others were able bodied. The others were suffering one form of disability or the other. Many suffered Alzheimer’s and those who did not, wished they did. It was not easy to forget the past; what they had been left with was only the past.

Someone had remarked that, there you couldn’t tell one old woman from the other. It was true. All looked the same. That was how Fyeri became Sara and no one noticed; even if some did, they did not bother about it. An old woman died; be it Sara or Fyeri, why should it matter?

Fyeri remembered seeing Sara for the first time in the home. She had the bunch of keys hanging from a dirty string around her neck and she hid it inside her clothes. Hair from her brown wig fell on her forehead which she pushed often. The two possessions she never allowed to be separated from her person were the keys and the wig. She was exceedingly adamant about it.

Fyeri could see fear and suspicion in that pitiful woman’s eyes. She volunteered help as Sara was too weak to do things on her own. The attendants welcomed it as Sara was a bit difficult to handle. Fyeri spoke  kind words to her but took care not to overdo it as she feared that Sara might level her suspicions on her. Fyeri’s soft words opened up Sara’s trust and it came to be the beginning of a strange friendship.

Amid fits of forgetfulness Sara told Fyeri about her past. After a broken marriage, life had been a struggle for her. She did the best for her daughter, educating and giving her an identity in the society. But the daughter married into money and forgot the existence of her mother. Fyeri sat with Sara even during the night as Sara had difficulty in falling asleep. It was one of those nights Fyeri heard from her the story of the key bunch

“You won’t believe what I’m going to say. Promise that you will share it with no one,”she said in a pleading tone. Thinking it was one of those senile ramblings from her, Fyeri said, ”Oh, If it’s ok with you. But ‘I’m not very keen on knowing as you value the keys so much and do not want people to know about it.”

“I want you to know about it because you are the nicest person I have met so far in my life, who does not look for personal gains. I think I’m nearing my end, which I‘ve been looking forward to for some time. “ She gasped for breath, wheezing. “This bunch has keys which open a locker room and a particular locker in which you will find jewels.” Fyeri was sure that the dying woman was delirious.

“I do not know what kind of jewels or how much; I have not seen it. My aunt gave me the keys at her death. I wanted to give those to my daughter, but she isn’t worthy. She is anyway well off.” Sara drifted off into a deep sleep. Fyeri thought that was the end of the story. But she did wonder whether there was a password. A couple of days later Sara said,”I had been there, but they won’t open without a password and my aunt had not disclosed that.”

She looked deep into Fyeri’s eyes and said, ”You are strong for your age and I heard what you were doing before you turned to God and religion. The nurse was amused that I told you the secret. Of all the people you shared the secret of your wealth with a burglar!” Fyeri was offended; she started walking away when Sara called out behind her, ”Don’t you feel bad, honey. I want to do you good. Go for this last try. The address is -------------”

Fyeri turned deep red in the face as anger stirred within. So, Sara was not as senile as she had imagined. She wanted Fyeri to steal, something which she had given up long ago.

That evening Fyeri did not go to Sara’s room. She was hurt. Sitting on her bed and in darkness she saw Sara moving slowly towards her. Fyeri turned her head away. Sara walked in agony for about five minutes and reached Fyeri. She held her with one hand and passed the string that held the keys over Fyeri's head. She took off her wig and fixed it on Fyeri's head. Having done this, she lay down on Fyeri’s bed. Fyeri did not protest.

"Senile old hag," she muttered. A few minutes later she knew Sara was no more. Fyeri had decided what she would do when Sara was breathing her last.

She took a few of her things and walked over to Sara’s room with a determination she had seldom felt...

The next morning Fyeri was buried and a new Sara lived on……………

No one bothered to notice or question..................

Fyeri was lucky, after all. She told Sara in her mind, ”Thank you dear. I thought you were crazy and I was crazier to do what you told me. Who would have thought you carried so much of wealth around your neck?"

The locker had given in and what she saw inside unnerved her. She held the gold in her hands. “In my whole life of larceny I have never seen so much gold!”

“This is going to help the kids at the orphanage. I have no use for gold now.”

She came out, locked the door, wore the string with the bunch of keys around her neck and got into the tiny elevator. The vicious power was waiting for her to press the button in the in the elevator. As the it started moving down, she closed her eyes in satisfaction of a job well done. When she opened her eyes, it was pitch dark. “What happened to my eyes? Have I lost my vision?” she was startled about the darkness around her that wouldn't go away. Then it dawned on her – power cut? The elevator wasn't moving…………….

When they opened the elevator the next morning, they were shocked to see the old woman on the floor. She probably died of cold. That night had been especially cold. The watchman knew he had seen her somewhere. Oh! It was the old lady in the care home. They took her and handed her body in the home, only a few blocks away………….. with all the gold in the hidden pockets of her coat...........