Child of Spring (14 page)

L
ali and I went straightaway to see about Bala and found him fussing over Kalu.

“Let’s tell him about Paki,
accha?
” Lali gave my shoulder a nudge.

“Na!”
I said. “We better not distract him just now.”

We eased closer.

“
Oi!
How goes it with you?” I asked.

“Well enough.” Bala ran a comb down Kalu’s shiny, freshly washed back. “What business is it of yours,
hanh?
”

“We have a 15 percent stake in this show. That makes it our business!” Lali cried.

“We came to see if everything was in shipshape order,” I added.

“Scat!” Bala waved his arm. “I’m in charge and I got up with the rooster. Didn’t sleep a wink last ni—”

“Never mind all that,” I interrupted. “Have you remembered about Kalu’s cute hat and the motia garland for his neck? Of course you haven’t! This is precisely why we’re here, see?”

“You should do something about your wrinkled shirt and that giant mess on your head!” said Lali.

“And when you’re done with that, follow us to my hut,” I ordered. “Amma has a vermilion dot ready for your forehead. She has made benedictions from her prayer platter for your success.”

Drawn by Dev and Hari’s drumbeat, the crowds gathered in the field. Lali and I crossed our fingers. With Paki locked in the buffalo shed, the show should go on without a hitch.

When the clock began to strike, Bala strode into the arena like a mighty warrior, Kalu the Wonder Dog trotting at his side.

“Kalu! Kalu! Kalu!” The crowd joined in our chant.

Bala bowed and raised his hand for silence. The crowd hushed and the show began.

“Aa!”
said Bala, and Kalu came bounding toward him. “Sit!” Bala commanded and Kalu sat. “Spin!” and Kalu spun like a top.

“Wah!”
cheered the crowd. “More! More!”

And Kalu, the dear dog, did not disappoint! He stood up on his hind legs, lolled his tongue, and begged; he barked on command; he rolled over and played dead. One after another, he masterfully performed the tricks he had worked so hard to learn.

Just before the grand finale, Bala walked Kalu in a circle. Lali and I held our breath; it was time for the great hoop leap.
Would he make it? Wouldn’t he?
“Do it, Kalu, do it,” we chanted under our breath.

Bala positioned himself, holding the hoop and a bone.

“Lower the hoop a smidgen!” I yelled. I turned to Lali. “I hope he remembers to wave the bone.”

Bala bowed to the crowd and raised the hoop. “Come, Kalu!” he called in a voice that was strong and clear.

And Kalu came! He came bounding!

“Go, Kalu!” we shouted. “Jump!”

And Kalu did! He jumped like a champ!

We cheered and clapped and whistled. Kalu had come through with flying colors. He was truly a Wonder Dog!

We counted one hundred thirty-five rupees worth of ticket sales that day.

“What is one half of 15 percent of one hundred thirty-five?” Lali asked me. But before I could tell her, Bala pocketed all the money.

“I’d say that was pretty good amount for a day’s work,” he crowed. “I’m going to double it in no time at all!”

“Oh ho!” I shouted. “What about our commission,
hanh?

“What commission?” Bala asked.

It felt like Bapu’s cot had given way, spilling me to the ground. Was Bala going back on his word?

And if he was, how did that make him different from me? So many untruths had fallen from my mouth again and again.
Serves you right, liar and word breaker!
I told myself.

I recovered enough to run after Bala and whack him on the shoulder. “
Oi!
Not so fast! We had an agreement! Fifteen percent. Hand it over!”

Bala raised his hands in mock alarm. “
Accha baba!
I was only having a bit of fun with you! I am good for my word.”

Lali’s smile reached from ear to ear. “Like my dear Ganga, Bala is not one to tell a lie!”

“Fifteen percent of one hun—”

“We should first set Paki free,
accha?
” she said, interrupting my calculations. “Also like my dear Ganga, Bala will keep a promise. This I know in my heart.”

Poor Paki! I did feel a little sorry that he was locked up with a bunch of smelly buffalo and smellier piles of hay.

“Fifteen percent and not a smidgen less!” I cried and we ran to rescue Paki. “He’s going to be madder than a bull stung on the behind by a bee. There’s no telling what he might do!”

Ganga was waiting for us near his house. “The rascal stole my firecrackers, I’ll get him for that b-b-before he gets you for the lockup,” he said forcefully.

I was so taken aback, I didn’t know what to say.

“We’ll tiptoe up and unlock the door,” Lali said. “By the time he discovers the bolt’s open, we’ll be a mile away!”

As we approached the buffalo shed, I whispered,
“Remember to run like the wind, Lali. Run like you’ve never run before!”

But the door to the shed was wide open!

“He got away!” I screamed. “What the—?”

We ran into the shed. Only the buffalo stood there, chewing their straw as if nothing had happened.

Ganga went to check on the rest of his firecrackers. “W-w-why, there are twenty in here.”

“All twenty? You said your best and fiercest were gone,
nai?
” I demanded.

“They
were
gone if Ganga said so!” Lali retorted.

“But they’re all here!” I said. “How do you explain that?”

“He took them. That much I know from the bulge in the rascal’s pocket. But now I’m thinking there was a change of heart and he returned them,” Lali said.

“A change of heart? Paki? Rubbish!”

“It
is
possible, is it not?” Lali asked.

“
Humph
!” I snorted.

But it was true. All twenty of Ganga’s firecrackers were in the box.

We searched every inch of the shed, but Paki was not there. Where was he?

“I bet he’s lurking nearby, waiting to pounce on us!” I said.

We looked for Paki everywhere. Finally, we found him at the water pump, spraying Ramu’s goat. As we approached, he turned the spray on us. I noticed from a
distance that his pocket was no longer bulging. Perhaps there was truth in Lali’s words.

“I have a thing or two to say to you!” he screamed.

“Who let you out?” I asked.

“The Milk Man did, thank you very much!” Paki growled. “He heard me pounding on the door and set me free. And he gave me two eight anna coins! ‘Buy a new kite,’ the good man said. ‘And next year, try a little harder to be champion.’”

“What about the firecrackers,
hanh?
” I asked.

“What firecrackers?” Paki said.

“What firecrackers, he asks?” I turned to Lali in disgust.

“The ones you planned to scare Kalu with!” Lali said.

“I don’t know what you fools are blabbering!” Paki rolled his eyes.

“Go! Go!” I protested. “We’re not the fools!”

“Paki, you returned them.
Shabaash!
Bravo! It was the right thing to do,” Lali said.

Paki grumbled a bit and twirled his finger near his temple like we were crazy, but when he turned back to the goat, I thought I saw a sly little smile at the corner of his mouth.

Then Amma called and Vimla Mausi hallooed and Pentamma Mausi threatened to twist our ears. What could we do? We
had
to go.

W
here are you going?” Paki demanded as I went to collect our commission from Bala the next morning.

“To watch Bala practice new tricks with Kalu,” I lied. I didn’t want the
goonda
boys to know about the commission.

“What? More tricks?” Paki demanded.

“Who does he think he is, Juntar Muntar the Magician?” Raju snickered.

“Get out of my way!” I tried to skirt around them. “You’re just jealous he’s turning into a businessman!”

But they both pushed up against me, forcing me to take a step back.

“Well, well!” Paki’s nose was one inch away from my face. “You
are
sweet on him, aren’t you, with your Bala this, and Bala that?”

“You’re crazy!” I shoved him away.

“I bet she wants to marry him!” Raju chimed in.

“She may as well,” Paki chortled. “She’s so ugly, she drips ugliness. And he’s so ugly, he oozes ugliness. Their
three kids will be named: Ugly, Uglier, and Ugliest!”

I raised my arm to punch him, but he grasped my wrist. When I tried to twist free, he held on tightly.

“
Oi!
Lookee here!” he said, and before I knew it, my ring was in his hand.

“Give it back!” I screamed, but Paki threw the ring to his brother.

“Come and get it, she-donkey!” Raju laughed.

Back and forth the ring traveled, from Paki to Raju, always just a little beyond my reach. They walked as they threw it, passing the beetle nut stand and the seller of bangles.

I jumped and flailed about, but I couldn’t catch it. “GIVE MY RING BACK!” I shrieked.

As we neared Lalla-ji’s grain shop, the ring whizzed overhead and ricocheted off Raju’s hand. I lunged for it. It bounced off the pavement once,
ping …
It bounced again and again … ping,
ping.
Then it rolled into a dark hole—the hole that went all the way to
Inglistan!

My ring was gone forever! I was too tired to be angry. I just cried and cried until there were no more tears left. When I looked up, Paki and Raju had disappeared.

I told Amma what had happened. She clucked her tongue, but she didn’t volunteer to go down the hole to look for the ring and she didn’t offer to buy me another one.

“Someone ought to twist their ears, beat them to a pulp, and flay their hides!” I raged.

“Hush, Basanta!” said Amma. “Sister Pentamma will mete out a just punishment.”

“Give me a bigger and better ring for my birthday … that’s what Pentamma Mausi should do!” I wailed. “
Hanh!
That would be just!”

“You forget something, daughter,” Amma said softly. “We all live together in a
busti.
You, as well as they.”

“Amma, I wish we had piles and piles of money to get nice things whenever I wanted them,” I sniffled.

“You already have what really matters,” my mother said.

Old Nahni might have said that too, if she were alive.

“The ring was never truly yours, my daughter,” Amma went on. “But this”—she swept out her arm to include herself and Bapu and Durga and everything else inside my little hut—“
this
is truly yours.”

I knew my mother was trying to make me feel better, but the pain in my heart was strong.

“
Na,
Amma,” I cried. “You are right but also wrong. The ring
was
truly mine. Not at first, but surely later.”

“Why do you mourn its loss so?” my mother asked. “You had grown dissatisfied with it of late and talked a great deal about its imperfections.”

“Still, I loved it!” I protested. “I loved it as I love Durga despite her annoyances and you despite your scolding.”

I sulked and pouted so much Amma sent me to the
water pump to cool off. There, I saw a baby toad hopping and splashing in the cool water. That put a smile on my face and I returned to our hut with a lighter step.

When Bapu got home, he chucked me under the chin and told me he’d buy me a nicer ring for my wedding trousseau. That helped too.

That night, I searched the sky for the star that hid Old Nahni. If she were still alive, I’d run to her, rest my head in her lap, and ask her why I had lost my ring. She would have had some good answers for me—answers I couldn’t figure out on my own.

I had a dream in the night. I was digging for gold under the tamarind tree, but I only found slippery seeds. Brown, slippery seeds.

“Where’s my gold?” I asked, getting angry.

From above, a voice squawked, “
Caw! Caw!
Basanta has the ring!”

It wasn’t Dinoo Kaka. It was Little Bibi.

“Please,” I implored. “Not so loudly. My mother will hear!”

Then Amma appeared with a broom in her hand. “Must not forget corners,” she muttered. “Must not, must not!”

Finally Old Nahni flew down in the shape of the night owl. She perched on a branch right next to Little Bibi.

“I’ve lost my gold, Nahni!” I cried. “Tell me where to look!”

The night owl flapped her wings and hooted, “
Hoo Hoo.
Look inside you, silly dear! Look behind the vein that
throbs in your neck.” Then she flew away upon the night breeze.

“Wait, don’t go!” I cried, but she was already just a dot in the sky. I woke up with a start. It was very, very dark and high above me, one star twinkled brighter than the others.