Contrary to her usual routine of the month, which is by the way, more predictable and more precise than the second hand of a clock, Su was 7 minutes early that day. She wasn’t the “Head Teacher” just for the sake of the title. She was the Head Teacher because of having taken up the responsibilities of managing the school, making sure all the paper work got done and most importantly, making sure the rest of the staff were happy about coming to work, and even more importantly, that all of them got paid on time.
Su was well known and much respected in the village. From the penniless to the millionaires of the generation right after hers, regardless of what status or position in life they held, whenever they met Su, they’d keep all of it aside and greet her with a warm smile and respect.
Every Head Teacher had their own religiously set date on which they follow the procedure for making sure all the staff at work got paid on time. Su’s was the first of the month and hence she stepped out early. Her routine of locking the door allowed for some flexibility since much like a lot of people, she too was susceptible to the unpredictable call of nature and this faint doubt at the back of one’s mind regarding whether it would get in the way of the day’s events. She couldn’t ignore it. She didn’t like that the Doctors even had a technical term describing it. Secretly she remains jealous of the ones who have mastered the art of ignorance when it comes to this specific character trait.
She went back in, answered the call, stepped back out, locked the door, hung her bag over her left shoulder, pulled her Saree over her head as a scarf, locked the gate and started walking to the School.
The School was a 15 minute walk away. She always walked. She had been walking the same route and teaching at the same School for the last 4 decades. She reached, performed her office duties, gave her daily dose of morning motivational speech to all the staff, finished her class (always scheduled before lunch for the first day of every month), finished her lunch and stepped out and was on her way to the treasury.
All her children were married and settled in different places. On her walks, she often thought of the weekend or vacations where it is almost as if the house would burst with the grandchildren ping pong-ing all around the place. However, she lived alone. As much as everyone being just a phone call away, she chose to stay at her home itself. Some feelings are better never explained and her attachment to her home was one of them.
The treasury was a bit far away and would require a bus. So she took a rickshaw to get to the bus stand. The Ration Shop was just beside the bus stand and even though she didn’t need it, old habits die hard. She got out of the rickshaw, paid the fare, went straight into the Ration Shop, entrusted the shop keeper with her card, got on the next bus and headed for the treasury.
After around 3 hours at the treasury, completing all the paperwork, talking to the right people at the right time, counting, confirming & tucking away the entire money nicely in her bag, she got on a bus back, got down at the bus stand, exchanged pleasantries with the Ration Shop owner, took her ration kit, got into an auto, got down at her home, paid the fare, enquired about the rickshaw driver’s family since he was one of her students, opened the gate, sat on her Verandha and let out a sigh of relief.
She always took a moment to enjoy her courtyard and the front elevation of her home. After that moment and catching her breath, she took to her bag to fetch the front door key. Years of routine dictated that it would be lying there towards the right side of the first compartment and she could fetch it blindfolded.
Except that this time it wasn’t there.
She felt a tingling sensation of fear up her spine. The kind that you feel when you reach in your pocket for your purse and you don’t find it there. Almost the same kind that you feel when you just raise your hands while walking out of your home to fetch your car keys and it is not there. You know that it is not serious and you just might have misplaced it, but by the time that reasoning kicks in, you already would’ve felt that moment of fear.
Once her mind calmed her down, she fumbled around in her bag hoping to feel that prick or cold of the key so that she can just continue with getting the money ready for the next day. Neither happened. The reasoning slowly started turning into practical truths with all the “might have”s and “could have”s. She sat on the Verandha, emptied both her bag and the Ration Shop Kit searching vigorously through them. A drop of sweat broke on her forehead.
Life had already tested her and she was not one to breakdown. The calculations were already being made in her mind. Random calls to people around were out of the question even though she did call her school maid once and didn’t get any updates.
She made a determined decision, put her Ration Shop Kit behind the Verandha and set out. She retraced all her steps starting with the Rickshaw driver, the bus, the streets, the Ration Shop, all the way to the treasury and back. Some people noticed Su at unexpected hours and did inquire the matter which she sidestepped with some excuse about visiting her grandchildren or something.
Unfortunately, none of her detective work helped and she returned home onto her Verandha with a confused mind. That’s when the reality of the situation started dawning on her. The actual fear of someone having stolen the key crept up and thoughts on how to protect her home started pouring in like a broken dam. She started considering her options of where to stay for the night and whom she could open about this to.
As strong as she was, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. She leaned on the door and lovingly put her hand on the door handle, pressing it involuntarily. The door opened. She found the door key inside itself. She had forgotten to lock the door after answering that last minute nature’s call.
A 'psycho' path. 