Anecdote - A Short Fiction

“Bonne nuit”, Sansa whispered, kissing her ten year’s old daughter.

“Maa,” Kaili mumbled, her voice lacing with skeptical.

Sansa was about to close the door. “Yes, princess?”

“Why do you speak French?”

Sansa smiled. Though she had left her job as French Teacher after Kaili’s birth, but sometimes just words slip out from her tongue. Ten years had passed and still her pedagogy was glued with her personality. “Sleep, princess."

Sansa woke even before dawn broke the horizon. Habituated with daily chores she engaged herself in activities. The kittle on the stove whistled for final time when she heard little Kaili’s footsteps descending on staircase.

“What’s in breakfast?”

Sansa offered her bread-omelette and a cup of chocolate milk. She waited until Kaili emptied her omellete. The little girl’s face grimaced at the last bite as if she had tasted something nasty.

“What happened?” Sansa asked, worried.

“Chilli !” Kaili screamed.

“Drink the milk!” Sansa hurried to the fridge to fetch the water bottle. When she spun around she saw Kaili grinning at her.

“You are easy to fool, Maa.”

A plethora of emotions swirled a moment before somehow calmed.  “You little scoundrel!” 

Sansa pretended to be angry, but could not continue to act for long. Kaili’s smile was everything for her.

Seeing Kaili fidgeting with her spoon, Sansa smiled. “I can’t leave you like this. You need to be punished.”

Clearly ambiguous what would transpire next, Kaili nooded, saying amicably. “Sorry.”

With operose to maintain her fake anger, Sansa stressed her words.  “You can’t evade this time with sorry. Nope, fetch your notebook. I am going to teach you French.”

“Maa,” Kaili protested with entrench. “This is my vacation. You can’t ruin it.”

Sansa’s heart began to melt but the teacher inside her remained didactic. “Come on, now.  Or you’ll not have your dolls for a week.”

Seeing her autonomy slipping away, Kaili brought a notebook and a pencil. Her expressions told Sansa that no matter which teaching strategy she would imply, Kaili was going to be her biggest challenge. Her ways of dealing with students seemed obsolete.  Steeling her determination, Sansa began teaching eloquently.

Kaili’s mood soon transformed from stubbornness to intrigue. It surprised Sansa that her daughter was able to adopt the new language faster than she had.  Massaging the back of her neck with her right hand, she leaned back in her chair. Her gaze shifted to the clock ticking on the wall.  She was on her legs as if electricity has bolted through her. “Jesus! It’s afternoon!”

“Yes, Maa,” said Kaili, innocently. “You have been teaching me from last four hours.”

Sansa’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Then why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because after a long time I saw you happy,” Kaili said. “You were enjoying me teaching.”

Sansa just looked at her affectionately. “Oh dear.”

Then she whirled toward her kitchen and started rummaging through her utensils. Something fell down, clattering on the floor.

Kaili peeked and saw a Snicker nee - a knife -  on the floor. “Isn’t that belong to Papa?”

Dumbstruck, Sansa picked it up and threw back it among utensils, keeping her eyes from Kaili.

“Maa,” Kaili asked. “Is it true what they say? Is father a traitor?”

Sansa was stiffed with shock, eyes brimming with tears. “No, princess.  He was a loyal man. But they didn’t believe him. So…” She broke into sobs.

Kaili crossed the room and pulled the end of her mother’s dress. “I believe in you, Maa. Teach me French for whole vacation if that makes you happy. But please don’t cry. I can’t see you crying.”

Sansa hugged Kaili affectionately.

Eleven years had passed and time took its toll on Sansa. Her smooth skin was now wrinkled, her sharp sight was bit dull. Sitting among the audience all she could make out Kaili’s name announced on speaker.

Sansa rose and saw her daughter, now a beautiful lady blossoming with life, accepting her graduation degree. She clapped, her happiness finding no bound. She recalled the anecdote when she started teaching her French and now her dear Kaili was a graduate in French.

Sansa closed her eyes. Her husband appeared from a pattern of shadows and light, smiling at her. “You did it, darling.”