Two hulking men tower over Ma, and one of them is pointing a blunt metal pipe right in her face. A red car is parked outside too, with a slim woman dressed in Western clothes standing beside it. My blood turns cold.
“Jeevan, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know!”
We force our way through the crowd. The twins are clinging to Ma’s legs and crying.
“Ma!” I shout over the noise. “Ma!”
She ignores me. She’s trying to grasp the slim woman’s hand. “One more month, Meena, please!” she cries.
The woman flicks Ma away. “I’m a businesswoman, not a charity,” she says coldly. “Now … where’s the money?” She nods to one of her men, the one with the pipe, who shoves Ma and sends her tumbling to the ground.
I rush to Ma’s side while Jeevan pulls my little brother and sister away from danger. His mother, who’s watching with the other neighbors, scoops them both up. Ma stands and brushes the dust off her clothes.
The woman, Meena, signals to one of her men. “You search the house. I’ll check the outbuildings. And you”—she points to the other man—“make sure no one interferes.”
The man with the pipe kicks at our front door with his boot.
“Ma—do something!” I shout. Needles stab at my stomach.
But she looks the other way.
“Get away from our house,” I yell, boiling with outrage.
The man bares his crimson teeth in a paan-stained smile, shoves aside the beaded curtain, and disappears inside.
Ma stands watching the door, frozen to the spot. Why isn’t she doing anything?
I run into the kitchen, my legs shaking, Jeevan right behind me.
“You can’t just walk into our house!” My voice cracks.
“Can’t I?” The man turns and his jaw moves mechanically, still chewing the paan. He spits a bloodred line across the floor, filling the room with his putrid breath.
Jeevan charges toward him. “Stop! That’s disgusting!”
A fierce admiration bubbles inside me as my friend and I exchange a look swift as a heartbeat. “Jeevan, be careful.” I grab him by the arm. “Don’t go too close.”
The man’s mouth twists into a strange grin as he drops the pipe on the floor. “Where’s your papa when you need him?” he sneers. “Probably in some toddy shop spending all your money … and I bet he’s never coming back.”
“My papa doesn’t even drink.” I’m filled with anger. “And if he were here you wouldn’t dare to come anywhere near our house.”
He knots his eyebrows together over his beetle-black eyes and goes to the latticed cupboard door where Ma keeps the crockery. “Is this where you hide the valuable stuff?” He looks inside, but nothing in there is worth much. He sweeps everything out, knocking my best blue cup off the shelf. It clatters to the ground, smashing to pieces. He storms past Jeevan, who stumbles backward onto the floor.
“Leave him alone!” I cry, and without thinking throw myself at the man and kick him as hard as I can.
“You … little swine!”
He grasps me by the wrist and shakes me violently. When he finally lets go, my knees buckle as fear swamps me.
Ma runs in, pulls me toward her. “Please … stop this. We have nothing to give you. There’s nothing valuable in here.”
Ma’s neck is bare and I realize they must have already forced the gold pendant from her.
Meena sweeps through the door and looks around, wrinkling her nose. She knows what she’s looking for; her eyes catch on our brass pot. She reaches into it and brings out the key to the old tractor, which she must’ve seen in the back shed. “We’ll take this as interest,” she says to Ma, dangling the key for a moment before tossing it to her thug. “But I’ll be back for the full repayment.” She walks out of the house.
Interest? Repayment? The words spin around in my head but I can’t make sense of them. The only thing I’m sure about is that she’s taking the tractor.
“No! Not Papa’s tractor,” I shout after Meena, sprinting into the garden. “How will we do all the hard farm jobs?”
Meena is sliding into the driver’s seat of the red car.
Her men climb onto the tractor. The engine starts with a splutter, followed by an ear-piercing screech.
“No!” I cry, unable to keep the sobs from escaping. “No!”
Meena winds down the window of her sleek car and fixes Ma with a stare. “We’ll be back for the money by nightfall on Divali. If you don’t have it, we’re taking the house.”
She accelerates out onto the road before Ma can reply, followed by the tractor.
“Ma!” I scream. “Don’t let them steal it!” My words are drowned out by the engine noise and the neighbors’ shouting.
Jeevan joins me and we run past Ma, past the neighbors, following the vehicles onto the road. My lungs burn and my legs ache. They’re too fast. We can’t stop them.
Jeevan swears at them, his face livid, his eyes full of fire.
His words shock me, even in this moment of hopeless fury, but I let them hang in the air.
The car and tractor head along the twisting road that leads away from the village, throwing dust onto the ripening barley fields, the engine noise getting fainter and fainter.
One by one our neighbors leave, talking to each other in hushed voices. Jeevan and I walk together back toward the garden, so close that our arms touch, his eyes glistening. He turns his face away, brushing his nose roughly with the cuff of his sleeve.
My throat is tight and I can hardly breathe. The words “interest” and “repayment” echo through my mind as I realize what has happened. “How could she? How could Ma borrow money from that horrible woman?” I say under my breath.
“Try not to think about her.” Jeevan
