The Box, Chapter 2

The Box is a short story I wrote in 2020. It inspired my second novel, Can You Be.

This is Chapter 2.

Broad Street, Charleston, SC

Read below or watch/listen to the video at the bottom of the page:

Naina walked back to her apartment for lunch. In her eagerness to get to the box, she forgot the intensity of the muggy August midday heat, which she usually avoided. The morning and evening walks were bad enough. Her phone indicated it was 91ºF with 94% humidity. To her, it felt like 111ºF. She saw heat waves rising from the asphalt.

Summers in Charleston were meant for the indoors. She didn’t understand how people ventured to the beach. She only liked the beach at Sullivan’s. It was quieter than the others. And she only went in the fall, nearing her birthday, when the heat wasn’t intense. And when there was no risk of getting caught in a hurricane.

When she got back to her apartment, she noticed the box was now placed squarely at the foot of her apartment door. She squatted down to read the label. Her name and address were listed, but there was no indication as to who sent it.

“Hi there,” a male voice said.

Naina jumped back, hitting the wall behind her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” A tall slim Indian man held out his hand. He wore white shorts and a dark blue polo shirt tucked in. His toes were perfectly groomed in his flip-flops. He looked as if he were in his mid-thirties.

Naina found him attractive but would never admit to that. She shook his hand.

The man laughed. “I meant to help you get up.”

“Oh.”

He held his hand out again but Naina didn’t reach for it. She stood up by herself. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I’m Raiya, your neighbor.” He pointed to apartment 206.

Naina looked at her apartment door, 205, as if to confirm.

“I haven’t seen you before. Have you lived here long?” he asked.

“I was one of the first tenants in the building after they converted them into apartments.”

“Wasn’t that like ten years ago?”

“Eleven.”

“Wow. You look so young…I mean, not like someone who’s been living here that long.” He laughed again.

“I moved here while I was in college. I’m turning 30 this year.”

“You go, girl. I would have thought you were still in college. You look way younger than me. I’m 32.” Raiya placed his hand on Naina’s shoulder. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Naina.” She felt heat rise around her neck and she stepped away from his touch.

“Naina…and you have the eyes to match the name.” He winked.

Naina was surprised that Raiya pronounced her name perfectly. Naina didn’t like her name. It meant beautiful eyes in Hindi. It’s not that she didn’t appreciate its meaning, but she didn’t like that people couldn’t pronounce it properly. It was neh-na but people called her na-ee-na like hyena. She hated it. She usually spent the first few minutes of an introduction correcting the pronunciation of her name, and she didn’t let it go until she made sure the other person got it right, ignoring the discomfort it caused.

She didn’t think her eyes were beautiful. They were large and round and she did her best to hide them—without using makeup, of course. She was proud of her smooth skin; her pores were barely visible. It was the only part of her that she truly loved. She considered it her only accomplishment. If her personality were outgoing, and if she liked people, she could have been a skincare model—the face of Neutrogena. But she valued her privacy.

“We must be the only two Indians in all of Charleston,” Raiya said.

Naina looked quintessentially Indian, no matter how little she knew of her culture. “There is a small Indian mart in West Ashley.”

“India Spice on Old Towne Rd? I’ve been there. You don’t see many brown people around here, right?”

“Tourists.”

“Right…I’ve got to get back to work. I moved here to head up marketing for a start-up. I am working from home until they earn enough to rent an office space. It was nice meeting you. I hope to run into you again.”

Naina didn’t want that. Friendships were something she had ruled out long ago. Boyfriends too. Even as a child, she’d kept to herself. It was easier than to have to deal with the risk of being abandoned. Naina also didn’t like talking about herself. Invariably, the subject of her upbringing came up and she didn’t like talking about it.

She picked up the box and went into her apartment, eating her lunch and staring at it. She shoved the food down as quickly as possible, and after she cleared and washed her plate she stared at the box again. She had ten minutes to get back to the office.

Naina shook the box and heard a muffled sound inside. There was something padded within. She grabbed the scissors she reserved for cutting into tape—the adhesive rendered them useless for anything else. She opened the box and found a purple silk bag. Inside the silk bag was a spherical light blue and white crystal with thin red threads weaved throughout.

Watch or listen along below: