Throwback Thursday: ‘White Rabbit’ by Deepthi Atukorala

Papa holds my hand tight because he doesn’t want to lose me in the crowd. When we walk in to the Great Books hall from the hot-hot parking lot, the cold air-conditioned whoosh of new-book smell hugs us, and I can’t stop smiling. I am wearing my ladybirds skirt especially for today.

Inside, big lights shine on red, blue, green, yellow, brown, orange mountains of books with English, Sinhala, and Tamil letters. My heart thumps all the way to my ears. Even if I am just learning how to put letters together to make words, I love them all. Everywhere, kids and mothers and fathers are touching books, flipping books, and standing in long line-ups with piles of books in their arms. I am trying to see around all the busyness to spot the Ladybird stall.

“Stop jumping, Shani,” Papa says, pulling at my hand. It’s good when my hand is in his warm hand.

Tikiri, who is not two yet and can only walk wobbly, tries to wiggle down from Mama’s arms, but Mama says, “No you can’t, sweetie. It’s too busy here.” 

I know which way to go. Far back down the tunnel of stalls, ladybirds are climbing a stall roof, and I am sure kids are buying up all the good Ladybird books right now. I want to run there, and Papa is too slow.

“Look, Papa, Ladybird is so far away. We have to hurry, or all the good books will be gone.” I have to shout so Papa can hear.

Mama says, “You take Shani. I’ll follow.”

I skip around pant legs, sari bottoms, tall skirts, and short skirts to get there quick. Papa is walking fast too, until suddenly he squeezes my hand and stops, making people bump into us.
 
“Papa, come on, let’s go.” I try to pull him, but I can’t. He is staring to the side, and I am too short to see where. 

“Papa!” But he is a statue.
 
I dodge a pant leg, peep over a stack of books, and I see her — Siriya.