Soul baring openness

“I'll never lie to you again, Sir.” Riya's face still has streaks where her tears ran through the curry and spices that were smudged on her cheek and brow, but her dark eyes are as big and soulful as ever and I sense that I have a real opportunity here to break through her natural reserve.

“Let's not say 'never', Riya.” I caution, “but I do think you owe me some honest answers, don't you?”

“Yes, Sir.” There is no equivocation in her tone, and I decide immediately what her punishment will be. I read about a trust exercise in some woman's magazine in a doctor's office years ago, and I think with a few modifications it might work perfectly as a punishment for someone as reserved and guarded as my new tenant.

“There is a game I used to play with my wife.” This part is not exactly true, Fran and I were able to have open and completely honest conversations when needed, but for the most part we didn't want to delve too deep into each other's secrets. “It's called five questions.” When Riya nods, I explain that these questions must be answered in complete openness and one hundred percent honesty. Truth with no evasion, no omissions and no resentment. “It will be hard,” I warn, “because the questions I ask are going to expose your true self, but that's what makes it an appropriate punishment.”

“I'll be honest Mr. Patterson, I swear.”

There is about three more minutes of silence where we eat our biryani. I cannot begin to imagine what this pretty young exchange student is thinking, but I am planning out my questions to achieve my ends. Riya finishes the last bit of rice in her box and sets it neatly to the side before folding her hands together in front of her on the table and straightening her back like a witness on the stand. I take that as permission to begin.

“OK, Question 1: If Avni had messed up your family dinner, what kind of punishment would she have had?”

“I don't know for sure, Mr. Patterson.” Riya is even more fidgety than before, but I can see her push past the discomfort of opening up like this. “I don't know for sure because my father always punished the servants in the privacy of his office. In India it is the head of the household who disciplines the staff, but I know he had a whipping cane in the corner of his office, and I think that's what he used.”

“Good, Riya. Is there anything else you want to add before we move on?” Riya's cheeks get even brighter, and I know that whatever it is that she adds is going to be good.

“I never saw this myself, Sir, but I once heard my mum arguing with my father because she didn't like how he made the maidservants strip for their punishment. I'm pretty sure he made the girls at least, take off all their clothes before he caned them.” Fuck! This just can't get much better. I wait almost thirty seconds to see if she wants to add anything else before I move on. I was going to ask about why she came to the US, but this requires a follow up.

“Question 2: Did your father punish you and your brother like that?”

“No!” Riya seems shocked that I even suggested it. “Well, Tish maybe, but I don't think my brother had to do more than drop his trousers.” She shook her head slowly before getting back to the question. “Whenever I had to be disciplined, my mother saw to it.” She squirmed in her seat like she was remembering an uncomfortable experience. “She would make me pull down my bottoms and she'd use her hard-soled slipper, it was humiliating.”

“A slipper?” I knew about caning, and as a teacher we always joked about bringing back the paddle or belt, and there is always the classic hairbrush, but a slipper? This is a new one.

“In lots of places in Asia, Mr. Patterson, the foot is considered a dirty part of the body, like genitals or armpits.” Riya explains, “So the slipper was as much to humiliate and **** me as it was to cause pain.” This time the prolonged silence after her answer leads to a goldmine. “The worst part about being punished like that was how excited it made me feel. Can you imagine what it would be like to start getting aroused while your mother is spanking you?”

“Did she know?”

“I don't think so, but maybe ... maybe that why she would never let my father punish me ... Ishvara no! That cannot be... ”

“Why don't you take a minute or two, Riya. Maybe get a drink and wash your face?”

“Thank you, Mr. Patterson.” It does not take long for Riya to return, and while she's gone I wonder where to go with my last three questions.

On her return, she looks somber, but no longer on the verge of tears.

“Better?” I ask as she returns to her 'witness stand,' waiting for her consent to continue. “Question 3: Tell me what happened to your money. You obviously come from a wealthy family, how come you had to pawn your jewelry and move into that sleezy motel?”

I know what Ja'mal told me, but I am curious to see Riya's take on how she ended up in this precarious situation.