The Last Table

Latha wanted only one thing from her grandfather’s abandoned house: the little teakwood table on which he had written letters every Sunday for forty years.

But retrieving it would require a trick, because the house was being demolished and the caretaker refused to let anyone inside.

Latha had always been afraid of confrontation, preferring to surrender what mattered rather than risk displeasing someone.

Yet the memory of her grandfather polishing that table with his trembling hands pushed her through the rusted gate.

The caretaker stood beneath the veranda, holding a lantern and a heavy bunch of keys.

When Latha asked permission, he laughed like a crow and threatened to summon the police if she took another step.

She almost apologized and turned away, as she had done countless times before.

Instead, she decided to pretend she had come to collect important documents tucked in the table, and the caretaker reluctantly opened the front door.

Inside, rainwater dripped through the ceiling, and broken furniture lay scattered across the floor.

A filthy sheet covered the table, but when Latha pulled it away, she discovered that one leg had been chained to an iron pipe.

Her courage began to dissolve as the caretaker impatiently tapped his watch.

Then his telephone rings, and while he argued with the demolition contractor, Latha searched the kitchen for something that might free the chain.

She found a rusted hammer beside an overturned stove.

The first blow struck an old appliance, sending a metallic crash through the silent house and bringing the caretaker running.

Latha froze, the hammer trembling in her hands.

When he threatened to lock her in a cage of legal trouble, she finally looked him in the eye and refused to leave without the table.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then the caretaker stepped aside, warning that the demolition machines would arrive in that hall within minutes.

Laltha dragged the table through the doorway, scraping its polished surface against the stones.

Behind her, the first wall began to explode into dust as the demolition crew started work.

She had saved the table, but something far more valuable had survived the night.

For the first time, Latha had refused to abandon herself.

~ mahe