Child of Spring (7 page)

M
ore than anything, I wanted to show Lali my ring, but there was something more pressing that I needed to do first. I found her up in the guava tree.

“Lali, I’ve got something to tell you,” I called. “Promise you won’t yell at me?”

Lali climbed down, one safe branch to the other.
“Accha,”
she said. “Tell me.”

And I told her the whole story about Rukmani and her strange request.

“You’re taking
laddu
to the Milk Boy?” Lali shrieked.

“You promised you wouldn’t yell,” I cried.

“I’m only yelling because you made such a bad promise!”

I tried to reason with her. “I haven’t done anything yet, Lali. I’ve waited till they were stale, see?”

“I don’t care about that!” Lali cried. “I just can’t believe you’re going to do what she asked!”

“I have to,” I explained. “If Rukmani found out I went back on my word she’d be hopping mad.”

“What about Ramu? I thought he was also your friend!”

“But I’ve already given my word to take it to the cross-eyed boy, and a promise is a promise.”

“Oh! Must you always say ‘cross-eyed’? So rude, nai?” Lali stamped her good foot. “Anyway, it was wrong to make the promise in the first place! You know how Ramu feels about Rukmani!”

She was right, of course, and I didn’t have a good explanation. “She tricked me,” I said helplessly. “You know how wily she can be.”

But Lali scowled and walked away in a huff. I didn’t mind that so much. Being mad was much better than being sad, and I knew she wouldn’t stay mad at me for very long. I ran after her and gave her braid a playful tug. “Will you go with me, Lali?
Hanh?
”

Lali swatted at my hand. “
Humph!
Go where?”

“To the riverbank?”

“You want
me
to go with you to deliver the
laddu
from Rukmani to Ganga? Are you mad?”

“Lali, if you go, you’ll get to see him! And together we will give him an earful about Rukmani. Cross my heart.”

I could see wheels turning in her head, so I gave her another wee push. “Please, Lali?” I begged.

“
Accha!
I’ll go with you,” Lali said finally, and then she added, “but I haven’t fully forgiven you just yet.”

We walked on, raising dust with our bare feet as we made our way through the field.

Along the way, I went over my predicament again and again. Then an idea popped into my head.
“Oi!”
I declared,
stopping suddenly. “I cannot—I
will not
take the
laddu
to the Milk Boy. I will not be a traitor!”

“Neither to me
nor
to Ramu?” Lali asked, and I nodded.

“God promise?”

“Yes, yes. God promise!” I said, and pinched my throat for good measure.

“What will you do?”

“Shhh,” I hissed. “I am thinking.” The riverbank was coming into view and I didn’t have much time left to cook up a good scheme.

But after twenty more steps, my plan was in place.

“
Hanh.
I’m thinking I should tell Ganga something else,” I said, giggling. “That would serve Rukmani right.”

“Tell him what?” Lali asked in alarm. “Don’t you dare without clearing it with me first!”

“Don’t worry, Lali,” I assured her. “I will tell the Milk Boy I have it on good authority that Rukmani sent him stale
laddu
because she thinks he deserves nothing but the worst and I will also say—”

“Wait!” Lali stopped me. “That would be telling a lie.”

“Lali, Lali. Don’t you see I’m on your side? I’m only telling little lies to make things better for you.”

“Big or small, a lie is a lie!” Lali insisted. “And it’s just not me who says so. Your mother—”

“Hanh, hanh!”
I cut her off. “But don’t you see? Sometimes when a person gets herself in a tricky place, she needs to bend a little rule here and there to protect….”

I was so busy laying out my defense that we didn’t see
Ramu’s goat or hear the tinkle of her bell. Suddenly, something nudged the small of my back, and before I knew it, I was on the ground!

“Oo Ma!”
I cried.

“Oo Ma!”
Lali cried.

The
laddu
fell out of my pocket and rolled in the dirt. Ramu’s goat snapped it up before I could grab it.

“She’s eating the
laddu!
” Lali yelled.

“Oi!”
I raised my hand to swat at the goat, but stopped midair. Lady Providence, in the form of Ramu’s goat, was disposing of the
laddu,
oh so neatly! “Good goat!” I shouted. “Eat! Eat it all!”

We clutched our bellies and laughed until we thought we’d die!

One part of me was saying,
Shame on you for not keeping a promise!
but the other was saying,
Lali’s happy! Lali’s happy!
It was a lot easier to listen to the second part.

“See, Lali? It was never meant to be!” I exclaimed. We watched the goat’s hind parts recede as she ambled away.

“Hutt, hutt!”
we heard Ganga cry. The riverbank lay before us. The Milk Boy stood waist deep in the water, his turban askew and his bare torso thin and wiry. His buffalo herd surrounded him, grunting and jostling and bellowing. He splashed water on their hindquarters, which were heavily caked with mud and dung, and prodded the noisy animals apart with a stick.

“Oh look, Lali,” I said. “There’s your man!” I cupped
my hand to my mouth and called out, “Ganga!
Oi,
Ganga!”

The Milk Boy looked up, his hand shading his eyes from the sun. “
Oi
, B-B-Basanta! What b-b-brings you here?”

“You’ll never guess in a million years!” I shouted back.

“You came for a b-b-buffalo ride?”

“Not today, Ganga,” I said.

“And who c-c-came with you?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“The sun’s in my eyes,” he said.

“Liar!”

“You can tell him,” Lali whispered.

“It’s Lali!” I shouted.

“Lali?” And like a moth flying to the light, Ganga the Milk Boy came running.

After that, Lali and Ganga ignored me completely. I felt like a nasty weed in the middle of a bed of roses.

“Your first w-w-walk to the riverbank,
nai
?” Ganga asked Lali.

In her place I would have said right away, “Yes? So?” but Lali just lowered her eyes like a blushing bride.

“I have been w-w-waiting for this moment,” he said.

“For what?
Hanh
?” I asked loudly but no one heard me.

Lali continued to be coy.

“W-w-will you have a ride on my b-b-buffalo, Lali?” Ganga asked.

“She will. She will! Say,
‘hanh’,
why don’t you?” I prompted Lali, but she continued to stare at the ground and trace a big arc with her foot.

“Hanh!”
she finally said.

“There!” I cried. “Let’s go ride a buffalo!”

Ganga held Lali by the hand and led her down carefully to the riverbank. He left me to clamber over stones and rocks by myself. “Which one?” he asked her, pointing to his large and handsome herd.

Lali looked from one fine buffalo to the other.

“That one! That one!” I said.

But Ganga let Lali take her time. “I like that one!” she said at last.

And that one it was!

Ganga lifted Lali up by her small waist and perched her on the back of the buffalo. “Don’t b-b-be afraid,” he said. “I’ll c-c-catch you if you fall.”

“
Oi!
What about me?” I asked.

Ganga gave me a rough leg up on my buffalo. “Hurry up,
nai?
” he said.

Ganga rushed back to Lali, clutched her hand, and led her buffalo up and down the riverbank. When she wobbled on its slippery back or cried when it let out a bellow, he said with his eyes,
Fear not, dear one. I will always stay by your side!

Me, he left to jostle about on my own.

Now was the perfect time to speak up. “
Oi
, Ganga!” I called. “Rukmani had a
laddu
for you, don’t you know?”

The Milk Boy turned.

“She did? For me?”

“
Hanh.
But I don’t think it was right!
Laddu
for you
should come from Lali and no other!”

“Hanh,”
Lali said softly.

“W-w-worry not, dear Lali,” Ganga said to her. “I w-w-would have thrown them to the b-b-buffalo, at once!

“
Shabaash!
Well done!” I said and to Lali I added, “See Lali, Ganga loves you truly!”

“Oo Maa!”
Lali giggled.

“What shall I tell Rukmani?” I asked as we headed for home.

“You can tell her the truth,” Lali said, playing with the white flower Ganga had picked for her.

I nodded. I could say, “See Rukmani, I went to the Milk Boy and he said,
‘Humph!
I’m throwing the
laddu
to the b-b-buffalo,’” which was not that far from the truth. Buffalo … goat; goat … buffalo. It was six of one and half a dozen of the other.

Ramu’s goat sauntered toward us, her udders swinging, a yellow crumb still clinging to her beard. I had a feeling the
goonda
boys had something to do with her tether being untied. For once, I was thankful for their mischievous ways.

“What are you thinking?” Lali asked.

“I’m thinking that I should thank Lord Rama for Paki and Raju,” I said.

I
t had now been three nights since Kalu had come to the hut.
Poof!
Just like that the little dog had disappeared—just like my ring.

“Kalu!
Oi,
Kalu!” I called for him all the way to the Big House, but he didn’t come. “He’s been gone for days, Amma.”

“He’s a dog of the streets, Basanta,” she said. “He knows how to fend for himself.”

When I spied the
goonda
boys in the jamun berry tree, I yelled, “
Oi!
Have you seen dear Kalu?”

“
Bah!
We already told you one hundred times we have no time to waste on a mangy dog!” Paki said.

And finally I asked Bala. “
Oi!
Where’s Kalu,
hanh
?”

“Umm. Here, there, everywhere!” he said as he took careful aim and sent a marble flying into the air.

I was resting under the tamarind tree at the end of the day when Lali came up the knoll. “
Oi,
Lali!” I called. “Is there news of the dear dog?” But she had no good news for me.

Lali tucked her bad foot under her
lengha
and made herself comfortable next to me. “I have something nice to show you, though,” she said, waving a feather. “I found it along the trail. So pretty,
nai
?”

“It’s only a sparrow feather, Lali,” I said. “People find nicer things all the time.”

“Go! Go! What could be nicer than this?”

I showed her my ring. When Lali’s face changed like the sky at sunrise, I knew it was far, far better than any bird feather.

“
Oo Ma
!” Lali gasped. “So pretty, truly! From your Bibi? She gives you very nice things,
nai
?”

“
Hanh.
From time to time.”

“You are so lucky!”

“
Na
,” I said. “
She
is the lucky one. Who is the one with servants to run and fetch for her all day,
hanh
?”

Lali examined the ring more closely. “
Aiyyo!
What’s this?”

“It’s only a little hole,” I sighed. “One stone is missing. The others make you forget all about it. It’s pretty enough for a nice wedding present when the Milk Boy takes you away in his bullock cart!”

Lali covered her mouth with her hand, but I could see that she was smiling.

“Did you get more flowers from Ganga?” I asked. It had been several days since the yellow flower had wilted behind her ear. “He should buy you green bangles for your wrist. His father is rich enough!”

“I don’t need green bangles for my wrist,” Lali replied.

“Don’t be silly. Every girl worth her salt wants green bangles for her wrist.”

“Not every girl,” Lali whispered.

I looked at her. My friend seemed pensive today. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you so mopey? Didn’t your precious Ganga visit you in a sweet dream last night?”

“I tossed and turned all night,” Lali replied.

“Because?”

“Because … Forget it. It’s nothing.”

“Because your precious boy came to pin another flower behind your ear in your sweet dream?” I prompted.

Lali shook her head and I tried again. “You tossed and turned all night because your precious boy
didn’t
come to pin a flower behind your ear in your sweet dream?”

Lali stood up to go. “
Na.
There was no flower, and no Ganga, and no sweet dream,” she said. “I tossed and turned because my mother let us eat from her plate and she went to bed hungry.”

I stared at Lali again and this time I saw the worry lines.

“She tosses and turns at night,” she said. “The rice pot is empty. There won’t be much on my
thali
plate tonight, and there won’t be any more sweet dreams for me at night either.”

She said it so softly, I almost didn’t hear.

“What will Vimla Mausi do?” I asked.

“She will not beg,” Lali said.

“Perhaps her sahib will let her have some money from next month’s wages?”

“She hopes his heart will soften when she goes to him,” Lali said.

I tried to comfort her. “If his heart is like the Milk Man’s heart and Lalla-ji’s heart, it will soften.”

Lali sighed. “I’m going home to be with her now,” she said.

I wanted Lali to stay so I could put an arm around her neck and give her a hug, but she was already walking away from me.

I was really sad for Lali’s family. Poor Vimla Mausi! Her luck had turned one year ago, when Lali’s father fell from the scaffolding seven stories high. His cries rent the air for three days and three nights before they stopped, and Lali’s mother was left with five mouths to feed on street-sweeper’s wages. And now her rice pot was empty and payday was still two weeks away.

I was thankful for Amma and Bapu and for the food in our pots and for the sugar biscuits in square tins that Bapu brought home from time to time. The next time Amma cooked roti, I’d put mine aside for Lali. She needed it more than Dinoo Kaka, who could surely fend for himself for a day or two.

The smell of spice was in the air; my mouth watered
when I thought about the cashew nuts in the red butter sauce reheating on our stove. Tonight’s meal was abundant because we’d carried home a lot of good leftovers from the Big House. There was some rice pudding too.

I thought of Lali, going to bed on a half-empty stomach. I thought about Bala too, and the mice probably running around in his stomach. Suddenly, I wasn’t very hungry anymore.

The huts in my
busti
were silhouetted against the dark sky. Embers lay dying in soot-covered hearths, and last wisps of smoke escaped quietly through openings in walls. Pots clanged near the pump, where several women were collecting their water. The frogs kept up their nightly chatter and the crickets chirped loudly. An owl hooted in the neem tree.

I pinched my
lengha
between my knees and let the water fall on my feet. It was cool and refreshing.

The pail bumped and sloshed as I walked home, and my thoughts flew from the yellow flower tucked behind Lali’s ear to the empty rice pot on her hearth.

After I unrolled my sleeping mat, I made a new mark on the hut to indicate yet another day since Kalu’s disappearance. Amma had made me toss his bones away. I was getting very worried now that five days had passed.

Lali saw me making the mark. “Any luck?” she called.

“Na,”
I said. “It’s time we organized a search party.”

“
Hanh.
Pummi, Nandi, Dev, and Hari will help,” Lali offered. “They’re worried about the poor little dog too.”

“That’s nice,” I said, stretching out on my mat.

Ramu rolled out his sleeping mat nearby and sank down with a groan. He was tired from pedaling his rickshaw all day under a hot sun.

“
Oi,
Ramu!” I called out. “Have you seen Kalu?”

“
Na
,” he replied. “But I will keep my eyes open on my rickshaw routes.”

I opened my mouth to tell him about Rukmani. I wanted to tell him that she was batting her eyes at the Milk Boy and plying him with gifts, but Amma was lying right beside me and I didn’t dare. Instead I turned on my side and looked at my mother. Her breath was warm on my face. I stroked a tendril of her hair.

“Hmm?” Amma stirred.

“I was thinking we should do something nice for Vimla Mausi,” I whispered.

“Yes. I heard about their troubles.”

“Will you make some nice
dhal
and chappati to send?”

“
Hanh,
tomorrow, Basanta,” Amma murmured.

I turned my face to Bapu’s cot. “Bapu?
Oi,
Bapu?”

Amma jabbed a finger in my shoulder. “Shush!” she scolded. “It’s enough you told me.”

But Bapu had to be part of this too. “Bring home an extra tin of biscuits, okay?” I asked him.

Bapu did not reply. He was already fast asleep.