SOAP 10

The coffee area was relatively uncrowded, a lotta people taking Monday as their compressed day off. Indira thought quickly, go for it, "one thing I always wanted to ask. Others here - everyone else - avoids me. You don't - you're kind. Why?"
Savitri replied, "I know. My brother back in India has the same eyes." At this point, she picked up Indira's vibes, let her off the hook with a joke, "course you'd never wanna marry that sort, old-fashioned sort who believes wives deserve a thrice-weekly beating."
"All the same, gotta photo? Might know him."
Savitri, the matronly sort, had photos of everyone in her purse.
Indira gasped, "SS general, won't say who."
"I already know who. What rank were you?"
"Me, oh just a major, injuries in the paras on Crete."
"Don't ever complain again. You got a Sunday School picnic compared to him."
It was near time to go back. Savitri said, "wonder where Salma disappeared to."
The look of electroshock on Indira's face said it all.
"You do know."
Weak, "yes."
"Well?"
"Long story, afternoon coffee?"
"Sure."

Indira summed up, "at first, thought it was a dream. But way too vivid for that. Went to the university library yesterday. Uniforms, perfect match, baby-blue and off-white. Geography and topography of Kerguelen, match. No 100% certainty in life, but odds were 99% I was there."
"You're windburned, you were there. Scratch marks on your hands from steadying yourself against rocks. So what you gonna do?"
Indira grinned, "read in Kipling, it's easy to die, it's the going on living that's hard."
"Good to hear."

Saturday 9:00 am. Indira had her coat on, ready to leave, when the phone rang. Savitri asked if they could meet for a latte.
News was grim. Her brother had done his fifth suicide attempt. Indira felt helpless in the face of it. Nothing she could do other than be a friend and listen.

Monday as Indira returned home, Suresh called. Indira could instantly tell trouble. Gone was the cocky smart-ass who would deign to take her for coffee once every 2 months. In its place, a stricken little boy. Right away she knew, yeah, HIV positive.
She listened to his tale of woe for three hours. If he hadn't been so stupid, all that barebacking in the bathhouse, well. Well what? Too late to tell him again. Be stupid, pay the price.