Free Same Sun Here by Silas House

young dishwashing boys, who had all fallen in love with her. She would have kept on working and talking, except that her mother came looking for her, so she had to go. At the very end of the night, the bride and groom came into the kitchen with the leftover wedding cake and champagne and told everyone to enjoy it. Daddy said the cake tasted like butterscotch and the champagne gave him a headache and he couldn’t stop laughing because the dishwashing boys kept fighting over which of them the bride had liked best.
    I asked Daddy why the girl had peeled potatoes, and he said he thought the boys in the kitchen reminded her of her family in Mexico, so she wanted to be with them for a little while.
    It seems like there are so many homesick people in the world. It seems like so many of us live far away from where we were born. Is it like that in Black Banks, too?
    On Sunday Daddy had to go back to New Jersey. I am sorry to have written so much in this letter. I have been trying to tell stories to make you feel better. I hope it has worked. You can talk to me anytime, about anything.
    I am still sitting on the bedroom floor, but now the moon is shining bright through the window. It is just two days past full, with a little chip off the top. It is hard to see the page, so I think I am writing crooked, but I don’t want to turn on the lamp and wake Mum. I hope you can read this. Write to me soon.
    Your friend,
    Meena
    P.S. I translated this for you so you could meet Dadi:
    Corn is hung from the ceiling.
Loki
and pumpkin are done. Cauliflower, garlic, and
mooli
are coming up. Tomorrow I will plant potato. Anjali is still talking about the
chai-wallah
who asked if she liked his mustache. When I walk near the school across from the church, I hear the children chanting lessons. They do not teach the months of the year in Hindi anymore. Make sure to practice and not forget. Are you keeping warm? Eating well? Is Kiku? I had a little fever last week but took the musk deer pills and it went away.
    This year the snakes are bad. No one is grazing their goats by the river. Still, one was lost. No matter how you plan, something always happens. Bahadur came for a visit and said the Gujjar boy was grazing his goats high up and a huge eagle came and swooped and a baby goat got scared and ran away from its mother. The eagle chased the baby off a cliff, and it fell on the rocks and died. The Gujjar boy saw the eagle flying with the baby goat in its claws. It was beating its wings deep and slow, going towards the high peaks. I know you are feeling sorry for the baby and its mama, but remember that the eagle must also eat. I think it was very smart about getting its dinner.
    The autumn festival has started. Much dancing and singing and drumming. The village girls came in their best dresses for Dussera. I saw old Usha and her granddaughters from Kolti. She is still as strong as a bull and stubborn as a mule. We stood with each other and watched the parade. You remember her grandson who always had the hiccups? He is also in America, in a place called Michigan. Usha says they have a lake there as big as an ocean, but it is natural, not from a dam. I am practicing my letters and reading the schoolbooks you left. My spelling is bad, but what can an old woman do. Today I made your favorite
mooli paratha
for breakfast and sat out under the trees to eat and watch the monkeys. I think of you with every breath and pray that God is keeping you safe.
    Grandmother
     
    4 November 2008
    Dear Meena,
    We are out of school for Election Day, but I had to get up early anyway because Mamaw wanted me to go with her to the voting booth this morning. She says that it’s important for me to understand how lucky we are to be able to vote. She votes at the fire station, and even though it was cold and gray and drizzly, there was a