Free Child of Spring by Farhana Zia

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 wateredwhen 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.

Chapter 14

    I served Little Bibi her breakfast,