Embrace the Chicken

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  No. Way.

  Chapter Four

  “So can we hang out at your place after school?” Mel asked. She picked at the hummus and carrots she’d brought for lunch. “Or are you hiding some deep, dark secret you don’t want me to find out about?”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Shivani. She took a bite of her cheese sandwich and chewed slowly, trying to buy time. At school some of her classmates still peeked at her lunch and then looked away when they saw it was just a sandwich. Other kids brought “different” foods from home like cabbage rolls, fried rice or pirogies. But Shivani wanted to fit in, not stand out. The samosas stayed at home.

  Mel was starting to insist on coming to her house. It was only fair, given that Shivani had been to Mel’s place so often. Not once had Shivani invited her over. But how could she bring her new best friend to her small house, have her see the tiny room she shared with her sister? Mel’s house was much larger than hers and beautifully decorated. And she and her brother had their own rooms.

  But it wasn’t really her house that bothered her so much. Shivani dreaded Mel meeting Ma. Her mom couldn’t speak a full sentence of proper English! She even threw in Hindi words when she couldn’t think of the right English word. So embarrassing.

  “How about today?” said Mel. “We can do our homework together and then come back to the school after dinner for the meeting. I’ll tell Mom I’ll meet her back here.”

  Shivani almost choked on a bite of her sandwich. “Sorry, Mel, but we can’t do it this week. Ma is really busy. Maybe next week?”

  “You always say that,” said Mel, frowning. “Seriously, is there something you’re not telling me? You know BFFs shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

  Shivani forced out a laugh. “You need to cut back on the mystery novels, Mel. I’m not hiding anything. Hey, what did you think about Ryan saying he’d bring his friend to help out?”

  The distraction worked. “If he’s as much of a dish as Ryan,” said Mel, “I should arrange to have their stall right next to ours.”

  “You could do that?” said Shivani. “How?”

  The bell rang.

  “Come over after school and I’ll explain,” said Mel. “We also need to decide what stall we want. They have to finalize the sign-up sheet tonight.”

  Shivani sighed in relief. But how long could she keep putting Mel off with these lies? Just a bit longer, she told herself. Just until the summer holidays. Then she wouldn’t be the new kid anymore.

  “Can’t wait,” said Shivani. They hurried back to class.

  At Mel’s house, Shivani slurped the last of her chocolate milkshake. It slid down her throat, sweet and thick. She loved North American food. Not that there was anything wrong with the food she got at home. She just didn’t get a chance to eat things like burgers and fries as often as she liked. Ma was a strict vegetarian and didn’t allow any beef in the house. She did cook chicken for the rest of the family, as well as fish. But never beef. Shivani had to admit it was great that Ma let her and Anita choose what they ate outside the house though.

  Mel’s mom walked into the kitchen. Shivani had first met Mrs. Jennings when she’d driven her family around to look at houses. She’d mentioned that she had a daughter the same age as Shivani and promised she would help Shivani settle in. And sure enough, Mel had walked up to her on the first day of school and introduced herself. They’d gotten along right from the start.

  “How are you all enjoying your new home?” Mrs. Jennings asked.

  “It’s good, although I wish I had my own room,” Shivani said, trying not to sound too ungrateful.

  “Well, you never know,” Mrs. Jennings replied. “Maybe your parents will upgrade. With that location, your house has great resale value.”

  Shivani smiled politely. How was that going to help her now? She needed her space. Anita was always butting in or hanging around at the wrong time. Which was pretty much all of the time.

  “Is your mother settling in all right?” Mrs. Jennings asked. “Tell her I’d be happy to introduce her to some of my friends. It’s much easier to get used to a new place when you have support from the community.”

  “Like me,” said Mel. “I’m very supportive.”

  “Modesty runs in our family,” Mrs. Jennings said, rolling her eyes. “Can you tell, Shivani?”

  Shivani smiled. “I think Mel is awesome.”

  “Thank you, Shivi-girl. I think you are awesome too! Shivani’s mom just got back from India,” said Mel, turning to her mother. “And Shivani has promised to invite me over soon. So I’ll tell Mrs. Das myself about your offer. Hey! Maybe we can have them over for dinner one night!”

  The thought of that made Shivani’s gut clench. “Sure, but for now maybe we can get going on that fundraiser stuff,” she said, hoping to change the subject.

  Upstairs, Mel flung herself on the bed. Shivani stood by the door. She couldn’t help but feel jealous every time she entered Mel’s room. The walls were a pale yellow, and the duvet on the bed was covered in sunflowers. Matching yellow curtains gave the room a cheery look. I’d be so much happier if I had my own room, she thought. Especially if it was the color of sunshine.

  The walls in her room were moss green. It was the color that had been on sale at the Home Depot. Papa had bought enough to paint the entire house. It wasn’t too bad. On rainy days she felt she was in the middle of the forest. But yellow or even a sky blue would have been nicer. She had asked Anita about pooling their allowances so they could paint their room a brighter color. But Anita had refused, saying the green was fine and there was no point wasting money.

  “You have that look on your face again,” said Mel, throwing a pillow at her. “Stop with the daydreaming already.”

  Shivani snapped out of it. “Hey, what do you think of Ryan?”

  “He’s okay.”

  “Just okay?” said Shivani, raising her eyebrows.

  “When you’ve grown up with someone, it’s not easy to see them as boyfriend material.”

  “Good. Then I don’t have to share him with you.”

  Mel yawned. “All yours. And I think he likes you too.”

  “Seriously?” Shivani said, her pulse thumping in her ears like a Bollywood beat. “Isn’t he with Rhea?”

  “I think that’s over,” said Mel. “You have a good chance, and he’s a nice guy. I could arrange something for the right reward.”

  Shivani groaned. “Stop teasing. What?”

  “I’ll let you know,” said Mel. “But when I call in the favor, you have to do it, right?”

  Shivani nodded. “Right.”

  “Okay, so let’s talk fundraiser,” said Mel.

  “I have a ton of ideas, and I’ve writ—”

  Mel held up a hand. “I’m sure they’re all good, but we’re in it to win it. I have a pretty good idea which stalls attract the most crowds and make the most money.”

  “So which one should we do?” asked Shivani.

  “I think our best bet is balloon darts,” said Mel. “The Baker sisters usually grab that one every year. But if we head to the gym early tonight, get there before the doors open, we can be first in line and sign up before they can.”

  “Sounds good,” said Shivani. “But your mom is on the committee. Can’t she reserve that stall for us?”

  Mel shook her head. “Mom believes everyone should have a fair chance. We’ll have to line up like the rest and take our chances.”

  “I think she’s right,” said Shivani.

  “But what she can arrange is where the stalls are placed,” said Mel, her eyes sparkling.

  “Meaning?”

  “Whatever stall Ryan and his friend choose, their stall will be next to ours.”

  “Your mom’s fantastic!” said Shivani.

  “Hey, what about me? I’m the one who will do the begging.”

  “You’re fantastic too!” Shivani said, hugging Mel.

  Shivani’s cell phone rang in her bag. She glanced at Mel’s clock by the w
indow—quarter to six. She knew who it was even before she dug out her phone. Ma refused to text her, even though Shivani had said she preferred it.

  “Hi, Ma. Yes, I’m at Mel’s. I told you this morning. I didn’t? Of cour—okaaay, fine. I’ll come home now.”

  Mel hovered close by, but Shivani turned away from her. Ma spoke mostly in Hindi. Shivani was careful to answer only in English.

  “Let me say hi,” Mel whispered in Shivani’s ear, trying to grab the phone.

  Shivani moved away. “Got it, Ma. I’m coming.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Das!” Mel yelled out. “When can I come over?”

  In a panic, Shivani ended the call. She hoped Ma wouldn’t call back. “Stop it!”

  “What?” said Mel. “Just trying to be friendly. You’re so stingy with an invite, I thought I’d get one directly from the head honcho.”

  Shivani loved Mel’s attitude, but sometimes she went too far. “I have to go home. Ma’s throwing a fit.”

  “That sucks. Didn’t you tell her you were coming to my place?”

  Shivani shrugged. She knew that if she had told Ma she was going to Mel’s she would have gotten another lecture about inviting Mel over. Ma wanted to meet all her friends since Anita’s friends had started coming by.

  “K, then see you at the school,” said Mel. “Don’t be late. I don’t want to be hanging outside the gym on my own like a loser.”

  “Sure,” said Shivani, wondering how she was going to slip out after dinner without Ma noticing.

  Shivani raced all the way home. Cutting off Ma’s call had been a bad idea.

  Breathless, she turned the key in the lock. The door was yanked open from the inside, and Ma stood there, hands on her hips, glaring at her.

  “You stop line when I am talking?” said Ma. “In middle of talking? Bad!”

  “I’m sorry, Ma,” Shivani replied. “I dropped the phone, and it must have disconnected. I thought it was better if I just came straight home.”

  Ma’s expression clearly said she wasn’t buying it. “Was that Mela, wanting to come to our house?”

  “Yes, Ma, and the name’s Melanie.” God, Ma couldn’t even get her friend’s name right!

  “Why she not come here already? You go there all time. Bad manners.”

  From the corner of her eye, Shivani noticed Anita hovering outside their room. She was Ma’s pet and sure to take her side against her sister. Shivani couldn’t count on her support.

  “Can you just stop lecturing me, Ma?” Shivani said. “I’m tired of being treated like a child.”

  She pushed past Anita, stomped into her room and slammed the door shut.

  Chapter Five

  Shivani did not come out of her room for dinner. She was surprised that no one came to get her. Not that she was hungry. The snacks at Mel’s place had filled her up. But the unmistakable whiff of fresh jalebis made her mouth water. Ma could have at least called her for dessert! She knew she was being unreasonable, expecting Ma to make the first move. After all, she, Shivani, was the one who had been rude.

  Still. Jalebis!

  Someone knocked on the door. It couldn’t be Anita. She would just barge in. It might be Papa coming to talk to her about her attitude. She couldn’t ignore him. “Come in,” she said reluctantly.

  It was Ma. And she was carrying a bowl. A lump formed in Shivani’s throat. In some ways, Ma knew her so well.

  Ma held out the bowl, and Shivani took it without saying a word. The delicate orange coils of fried dough glistened with sugar syrup. Saliva flooded Shivani’s mouth as she smelled the rose water.

  “Thanks, Ma,” she said, breaking off a large piece with her fingers and popping it into her mouth. The sweetness spread over her tongue as she crunched it up. “You are the best.”

  “Shivani, we talk,” said Ma, sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside her. “Please, now.”

  Her mouth full, Shivani sat down beside Ma. The least she could do after Ma had been so nice was listen to her.

  “You don’t forget India because you come Canada, Shivi,” said Ma. “Don’t forget self, what is in your heart.” She tapped Shivani’s chest with a finger. “No shame about your culture, your tradition. It is good, very rich. Special.”

  “I’m not special, Ma!” Shivani said. “I’m just an outsider trying to fit in with all the kids who grew up here!”

  “It take time,” said Ma. “So what? You call friend here. She like you, me, Anita, Papa. Soon you have many friends.”

  Shivani chewed the last bit of jalebi, trying to choose her words carefully.

  “My friend loves burgers,” said Shivani. “You don’t cook beef.”

  “I make samosas and chutney to die for,” said Ma, kissing her fingertips like Papa always did. “All neighbors in Mumbai line up for them. No one even remember cow after a taste of my samosa.”

  Who cared about the neighbors in India? They were here in Canada now. “Mel won’t like Indian food,” Shivani said.

  “How you know?” said Ma, her tone sharp as she stood up. “You never take paratha or curry rice to school.”

  “I just know, okay?” Shivani’s temper was rising again, but she held her tongue. “And cold curry doesn’t taste good. There’s too long a lineup to use the microwave in the cafeteria.”

  Ma sighed and shook her head. “Get ready, Shivi. Almost time for funding in school meeting. Anita and I come with you.”

  “It’s called a fundraiser, Ma,” said Shivani. “But we’re not going. I already told them you couldn’t help.” Shivani felt smaller than a flea, but this was no time for backing down. She still planned to slip out as soon as Ma started watching her favorite TV program. Mel would be so mad if she was late.

  Ma smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “Okay. You stay. Anita will take me your school. She know the way.”

  She turned and left the room. Shivani caught a glimpse of her sister’s grinning face just outside the door. Traitor!

  “Okay, I’m coming,” said Shivani. Better she was there to do damage control than let Ma loose at the school gym with all the parents. But this meant she couldn’t go early. If she did, every parent arriving would want to talk to Ma. Or Ma would try talking to them, or to Mel. No. Way. Mel would have to wait in line alone.

  Sorry, Mel. I’m so sorry.

  Chapter Six

  The gym was almost full when they arrived. Shivani had delayed as long as she could. She had told her mom she had an important assignment to finish. She thought that if they got there just as the meeting started, there would be no time for chitchat. And once the meeting was over, Shivani planned to race out of there, using the same excuse. With any luck, she’d get Ma in and out with very few stops.

  Ma had finally called out that she wasn’t waiting any longer. Shivani had raced out of the room to find her mom and Anita giggling near the door. God help me, she thought. She corrected herself. No, don’t. Your sense of humor is worse than Ma’s, and you’re sleeping on the job.

  A couple of friends waved to Shivani as she, Anita and Ma grabbed seats in the last row. There was no sign of Mel. After she’d ignored five texts from Mel, each one angrier than the last, they’d stopped. Shivani wasn’t looking forward to seeing her. No doubt they would have a fight. But what else could she have done?

  Ma was wearing a black blouse and a dark-blue cotton sari with a black border. She’d draped a multicolored shawl over her shoulders. In the sea of black, beige and navy spring jackets, she stood out like a peacock among crows. No matter what the weather, Ma refused to give up her traditional clothing. Shivani could feel people staring at them. She wanted to melt into the floor of the gym. Start the meeting already!

  “We can’t stay long, Ma,” said Shivani. “I have to finish that assignment. It’s due tomorrow.”

  Ma glanced around, her eyes sparkling. “So many peoples want to help with funding. Very nice. We help too.”

  “Our school is having one at the beginning of next year,” said Anita. “I’ve alread
y signed you up, Ma.”

  “Okeydokey,” said Ma. She’d heard this word on TV and used it whenever she could, saying she liked that it rhymed.

  “I already told my teacher you’re too busy to volunteer,” said Shivani, glaring at Anita. Why did her sister always have to do exactly the opposite of what she did? Anita was deliberately trying to make her look bad.

  Ma ignored Shivani, turned to the woman next to her and smiled. The woman smiled back.

  Don’t say a word, Shivani prayed silently. Please!

  “Hello, my name Rupal Das. What your good name?”

  “Nice to meet you,” said the woman. “I’m Nina Petrova, Katya’s mother. I love your shawl.”

  Katya, sitting on the far side of her mother, leaned forward and waved. Shivani waved back.

  “Thank you.” Ma opened her large purse and started rummaging inside it. “You like biscuit?”

  Katya’s mother looked surprised, but nodded. “Sure.”

  Oh no! Didn’t Ma realize Mrs. Petrova was just being polite? In one evening, Ma was going to destroy the image Shivani had spent weeks building. Ma opened a small tin and offered a jeera biscuit to Mrs. Petrova. A hint of cumin and butter filled the air.

  “Ma, please! No food or drink in the gym,” Shivani said through clenched teeth. What was it with Ma and food? Everywhere she went, she carried snacks in her giant bag. She believed offering food to strangers was the best way to break the ice. Shivani had tried to explain to her many times that in Canada you didn’t do things like that. But Ma refused to listen. Funny how the people she offered it to had no objections and usually asked for seconds.

  Mrs. Petrova took one and bit into it. “Oh, this is delicious! You must give me the recipe, Rupal.”

  “Yes, yes. You come home. I show you,” Ma said.