Who Will Catch Us As We Fall by Iman Verjee Page B

out.
    â€˜See that boy with your sister? I want you to help him with whatever he needs.’
    Now the street was empty and Jai was emerging from the veranda, kicking a small stone ahead of him. At sixteen, his father had been a clueless boy, but Jai carried within him a solid sense of conviction – a steel framework of principle that few men Raj knew possessed – and it made his chest puff out with pride.
    It was as if the boy had come to him at just the right time – when Raj was old enough that his dreams were beginning to change, break down and turn cruel, morphing into painful regrets.
    â€˜He’s Angela’s son,’ Pooja informed her family once they were all seated at the table. She was hot and bothered, having had to lean over the stove for half an hour, deep-frying the pooris. Normally, Angela would have made them but Pooja had allowed her to go home early.
    She fanned out her loose tunic, blowing down the collar. ‘He was living in Eldoret with his grandmother but she passed away from a serious bout of malaria.’
    â€˜I didn’t know Angela had a son.’ Leena pressed her nail down into the balloon-like poori. With a slight whistle it flattened into a yellow heap on her plate.
    â€˜Your father and I knew about Michael – that’s his name. He’s around your age.’ Pooja turned to Jai. ‘He was going to school there but now he’ll be living with Angela so you’ll see him around here sometimes.’
    Pooja had made it clear to Angela that she would not be paying for the extra set of hands. She was the one doing Angela the favor – so that she wouldn’t have to leave her son at home during the school holidays while she came to work.
    â€˜Do we have to be friends with him?’ Leena chewed down anxiously on her food, imagining all the cruel taunts she might receive if she should befriend this strange, light-stepping boy.
    Whilst debating how to answer, Pooja looked over at her husband. She had been worried about bringing the boy here, especially at this raging-hormone age and especially around her daughter. ‘You just never know with these kharias ,’ she had told Raj, hush-hush in their bed the night Angela had informed them about Michael. ‘And yet here you are saying we must agree to let her bring him into our home because that is what Pinto would have done.’
    At the table that night, unable to keep the crossness from his voice, Raj told his daughter, ‘Of course you’ll be his friend.’
    Pooja interjected, ‘He’s coming here to work. Not to play.’
    â€˜No matter what you decide, I want you to treat him with respect and kindness, is that understood?’ Raj addressed Leena but looked instead at his son. He put his napkin down. ‘Jai, come outside with me while these two ladies clean up.’
    They left the table together, his daughter’s nasal whine following them out onto the street. ‘It’s not fair that Jai gets to go outside while I have to clear up the table.’ Stomping feet could be heard above her mother’s harsh reprimanding. ‘I hate being a girl.’
    The street outside was empty but Raj still led his son to the most secluded area on the compound – behind all the houses, where the communal water tank was situated. He settled on the brick ledge there, crossing one leg over the other knee and pulling a cigarette from his trouser pocket.
    â€˜Sit down,’ he told his son as the air filled with the fast hiss of a matchstick lighting. The orange flame, captured in the round cup of his father’s palm, danced in flickers about his face and Jai immediately went to him. He tucked his hands beneath his thighs, zipping up his hooded sweatshirt right beneath his chin. He was used to the seriousness of his father’s tone, understood already what was coming next.
    â€˜Your sister can do whatever she wants but you will become friends with that