Garden of Dreams by Melissa Siebert Read Free Book Online

his toes, Eli followed Anand grudgingly but obediently to Auntie Lakshmi’s door. No Mozart this time. Anand knocked, and without waiting for a reply, they entered.
    Auntie Lakshmi emerged from her bedroom, decked out in an amber sari, matching ribbons running through a long braid down her back, and jewelled bronze slippers. She glided up to Eli and grazed her ring-heavy fingers against his cheek, surveying him. She liked what she saw, if the flash of her smile was any indication. Standing up, she was quite small, less intimidating.
    ‘What are you staring at, Anand?’ she said abruptly. ‘Go fetch us some lassis and gulab jamun –
jaldi
!’
    As Anand left, sulking, she beckoned Eli to sit down with her on the day bed, side by side. He tried not to look at her boobs, just a foot away, at the folds of her tummy spilling over the amber silk. At the pitch-dark eyes that wanted to suck him in, hold on to him. Suddenly she took his left hand in both of hers; he felt faint.
    ‘
Chutiya
,
chutiya
, Auntie Lakshmi has big plans for you!’ she said, tickling his palm. It felt obscene. He wanted her to let go but didn’t dare to wrench his hand away.
    ‘Auntie-ji’s own photo-wallah! You can take photos of all the girls, captivating photos in different poses, and we will become worldwide famous!’ She took a strand of his hair and twirled it around her finger. ‘It could be just the ticket!’
    ‘You want photos of all this?’ Eli asked, pulling away from Lakshmi’s touch and looking vaguely around the room. ‘Isn’t this illegal?’
    Auntie-ji ignored him. ‘The only malkin on G.B. Road with a photo-wallah of her own!’
    She clapped her plump hands together like a child; Anand, back with the sweets and lassis, smiled at her smugly from the doorway. For a moment Eli thought this wouldn’t be so bad – maybe he could get along with these people, take a few photographs and talk his way out of here.
    ‘But what are the photos for?’
    ‘You are not worrying about that,
chutiya
. Let us just say that they are to show people what beautiful girls we have here and that they are welcome …’
    ‘Welcome to what?’
    ‘Well, welcome, of course, to come meet them, to share the pleasure of their company, for chai, lassi, what what what …’
    Eli shrugged; he actually didn’t give a damn if the girls were spreading their legs or for whom. But he did care about this: ‘If I take the photos, all the ones you want – will you let me go?’
    ‘For heaven’s sake, my boy, such silly questions. Look me in the eye and tell me if I would keep you here against your will …’
    ‘But you are!’
    ‘Once you deliver the photos, we’ll talk. Tell me,
chutiya
, what do you see when you look at me? A monster?’
    She pressed her face towards him, her black eyes agog; he felt the urge to laugh, and to spit, simultaneously. But he did neither. ‘Don’t kiss me!’ he said, and jumped back a few inches on the daybed.
    ‘Silly boy! Why would Auntie Lakshmi want to kiss you? Silly little
chutiya!
Now go and take your photos and take bloody good ones!’ She pulled his Canon PowerShot out of her top, from the crevice between her breasts, and handed him the camera. It was warm. ‘Chop-chop! Anand will lead you to the girls.’
    Anand, still standing at the door with a tray of creamy drinks and sticky little fried dough balls, wondering what to do with everything, cracked his gum loudly.
    Auntie Lakshmi motioned to him to set the tray down on the little table near the daybed. ‘Come back when you’re done,
chutiya
, and show me what you’ve got.’
    Eli looked longingly at the tray of refreshments; he hadn’t eaten that morning. But Anand was walking at a clip down the hallway, then down a dark set of stone stairs, worn in one direction. ‘We start on the first floor,’ he said, ‘and work back up. Most girls are down here.’
    ‘How many floors are there?’ It seemed an innocent enough question.
    ‘Nosey-mister, keep