This story coincides with
The Call of Magic, Book One of The Fool’s Journey,
a Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy for New Adults, available now on Kindle Unlimited.
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June 19, 2020
They take her to shower before she can join the queue for In-Processing.
Sarama could not imagine such marvelous facilities existed. Marble fixtures. Smooth, brass basins for washing hands and faces. Beautifully illuminated mirrors, clean and uncracked. The tiles have not moldered or rusted. The water does not pool or run places it should not. Private showers stand, one for each of them, with their own booths for seclusion from prying eyes. She has never seen a shower outside of the plantation. Most of her washing is done in the river.
She feels badly that she should sully such a beautiful place. The spray that sluices from her carries dirt of many colors. She wipes the shower clean after.
She had already caused problems.
There were others from India, from different castes and states. They did not enjoy seeing her, within moments were pushing her against the wall, angry, yelling.
A Guardian intervened, in bitter, scalding Hindi forced them into line with shame. It was that Guardian Chitanis that took her to shower. In agitated litany she berated the Fools who thought this was a good idea while the water ran.
Sarama is returned to the chamber and withstands the scrutinizing looks shot at her by those from her country. They are filled with hate, that someone like her could be worthy of this place, that someone like her could be worthy of magic.
It will only get worse. It almost always does, for a Dalit.
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