Embrace the Chicken

by Mahtab Narsimhan

Mrs. Petrova nodded. “And I’ll give you the best recipe for pryaniki ever.”

  “That cookie name?” said Ma.

  She nodded. “Yes, it’s a Russian spice cookie.”

  “In India, Priya is girl’s name. It means ‘loved one.’”

  “Well, I do love this cookie!” They both laughed.

  “Looks like our mothers have hit it off,” said Katya, smiling shyly.

  Shivani had never seen Katya smile before. Returning the smile, Shivani replied, “If you don’t have a partner for the stall, you can come help Mel and me. Okay?”

  Katya nodded, her cheeks warm with color. Shivani felt a glow in her chest. She knew she was being mean to Ma, but maybe she could make up for it some other way.

  The principal, Mr. Travers, arrived, and the buzz died down. He got up on the stage along with the other teachers. Ma tucked the biscuit tin back into her bag. Shivani scanned the crowd but couldn’t see Mel. She would probably be up front with Mrs. Jennings. Good. Shivani could sneak out with Ma and Anita as soon as the meeting ended and deal with Mel’s meltdown later.

  “Thank you all for joining us today.” The principal’s voice boomed around the gym. “I see a lot of familiar faces and a few new ones. Welcome! It is because of your efforts that our school continues to flourish year after year. I hope this year is even better than the last!”

  Shivani could see by Ma’s expression that she was concentrating hard. “What he say, Anita?” Ma said in a loud whisper.

  Shivani saw Mrs. Petrova glance at Ma. Why was Ma making it so obvious that she couldn’t understand English very well? Why couldn’t she just listen quietly and ask questions at home? Papa would never have embarrassed her like this. Shivani couldn’t wait for the meeting to end.

  Principal Travers introduced Mel’s mom, who stood up to a huge round of applause.

  “Welcome, everyone! As many of you know, I’m Cherie Jennings. I am this year’s chair of the Fundraiser Planning Committee. For those who are new, I look forward to getting to know you. Together we are going to make this the best year ever!”

  More applause. It was clear that Mrs. Jennings was popular in the school and the community. Could she and Ma really be good friends? They were as different as a slice of bread and an aloo paratha.

  “That is Didi’s best friend’s mother,” whispered Anita.

  “You make us meet, Shivani?”

  “No, Ma,” said Shivani. “We are leaving as soon as the meeting is over. I already told you, I have to study for a test and finish my assignment.”

  “Okay, you go. I come later. But I tell you now, you behave not nicely.”

  Shivani’s stomach knotted. Her heart ached. She knew she was hurting Ma, but what choice did she have? If they laughed at Ma today, they’d be laughing at her tomorrow. She couldn’t bear it, for her or her family.

  “I’ll be passing around the sign-up sheet soon,” Mrs. Jennings said. “Please write down your name, email address and phone number. For those of you volunteering to bring food, thank you! I will be in touch with you in the next few days to discuss menu items and quantities. We will reimburse you for the cost of the ingredients.”

  “So, Rupal, will you be volunteering?” asked Mrs. Petrova.

  “I look,” said Ma. “Very busy time for me.”

  “One last thing before you sign up,” Mrs. Jennings continued. “I’ve created a handout that lists the ingredients to avoid because of known allergies in our school. This includes all nuts and especially peanuts. We would love to have a variety of vegan, vegetarian and gluten-free options as well. If you are able to prepare those, please note that on the sign-up sheet.”

  “What she say?” asked Ma. “What vegan?”

  “Let’s go, Ma,” said Shivani. “How does it matter to you? You’re not making anything.”

  Ma glared at Shivani. “I am not hearing even squeak from you. Undersit?”

  “Understand, Ma,” said Anita gently. “Vegan means no animal products. So not even milk or honey. Only plant-based foods.”

  “Okeydokey,” said Ma. “Now I understand.”

  The buzz in the gym started to rise again. A few parents asked questions. A committee member walked around with the handouts. Before Shivani could say anything, Ma snagged one. She folded it into a tiny neat square and tucked it into her bag.

  Shivani’s pulse raced. The meeting was over, and the sign-up sheet was making its way to the back. Parents started to drift around, catching up with others. Any minute now Mel would spot Ma in her colorful shawl and come over.

  “Ma, I’m not feeling too well,” said Shivani. “We have to go. I don’t want to throw up in the gym.”

  Ma looked at Shivani with concern. “Okeydokey,” she said softly. “We go.”

  “If you have to leave, Rupal, I can put your name down on the sign-up sheet,” Katya’s mom said. “You can get in touch with Cherie later with the rest of the details.”

  “Maybe next time,” Ma replied. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here,” she replied, holding out her hand. “And don’t forget the cookie recipe.”

  Ma clasped Mrs. Petrova’s hand in both of hers. “Of course. You welcome my home, any time. And you bring Priya.”

  “Pryaniki,” Mrs. Petrova corrected.

  They both laughed.

  “I’ll see you at class tomorrow,” said Katya to Shivani. “You were serious about letting me help?”

  “Absolutely,” said Shivani. Though she wasn’t as sure now about how Mel would react to this news.

  But first things first.

  She grasped Ma’s arm and tugged. Ma sighed but followed. Just as they reached the gym doors, Shivani heard someone calling her name. Mel.

  Shivani burst through the doors as fast as she could, praying Ma hadn’t heard anything.

  Chapter Seven

  Papa was home by the time they got back. Shivani tried to escape to her room, but Ma stopped her.

  “Wait, Shivani. You are rudeness today.”

  Ma had used her full name. She was in trouble.

  “Ma, I told you not to come to the meeting, but you insisted. And then you were handing out biscuits and trying to embarr—”

  “That’s enough, Shivani,” said Papa sternly. “What happened, Rupal?”

  “My daughter shame of me!” said Ma. Her voice wobbled. Shivani felt worse than ever. “She pull me home like puppy on string.”

  “Is that true, Shivani?” said Papa, folding up the paper he had been reading. “We did not raise our children to disrespect their parents and elders. I’m very disappointed.”

  “I just don’t want Ma to embarrass me in front of my friends. Is that too much to ask?” Shivani knew this was a pointless argument, but she had to say something.

  “How I embarrass you if I want to help funding?” Ma said.

  “Because you can’t speak or understand English. But you still go having conversations with other parents. You always make me and Anita work hard so you can be proud of us. Why don’t you practice what you preach?”

  “What mean?” said Ma.

  Papa explained to Ma in Hindi. Shivani could tell he was really angry.

  Ma took a deep breath. She dropped her bag on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. She stared at her hands. For a minute no one said anything. Then Anita sat beside Ma and hugged her.

  “It’s okay, Ma,” whispered Anita. “You take as much time as you need to learn English. I’ll help you.”

  Finally Ma looked up. Her eyes were bright with tears. “My family—big. Seven brothers and sisters. We not have money to send everyone to school. So I fall out grade eight.”

  Shivani looked at the floor.

  “You lucky your papa and I make enough money to let you study in private school in India. Bring you to Canada.”

  “And we work hard to get top marks,” said Shivani. She knew she should just stop talking. But she couldn’t seem to help talking back.

  “You’re acting like a donkey,
Didi,” said Anita. “For once, shut up and listen.”

  “You shut up!” Shivani snapped.

  “Anita, why don’t you go to your room,” Papa said. “We need to have a chat with your sister.”

  “I’m proud of you, Ma,” said Anita. She gave Shivani a dirty look and walked into the bedroom.

  “Sit down, Shivani,” said Papa, taking Anita’s place beside Ma.

  Shivani plunked down on the sofa. When he used that tone, it was best not to argue.

  “Do you know how hard your mother and I have worked to bring us all here for a better life? I worked three jobs in India, and your mother packed tiffin lunch boxes for office workers. We even had to borrow money from relatives. Your mother could have used the money she earned for her education. We always talked about her going back to school once you girls were older. But you both always came first.”

  Shivani stared at her mother. She had had no idea Ma wanted to go back to school.

  Papa continued as he clasped Ma’s hand in his. “If she had put her needs before the family’s, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  Shivani’s throat felt tight. Her parents, but especially Ma, had sacrificed so much for her. She jumped up and hugged Ma. The familiar aroma of ginger, garlic and cloves enveloped her. “I’m so, so sorry, Ma. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Ma kissed her forehead. “Shivi, you must think before talk. No hurt anyone, especially family. We love you—always. And you do same to us.”

  Shivani nodded. “I will, Ma. I get it. And I’m truly grateful.”

  “So I help at funding and make you proud,” said Ma.

  Shivani was torn. On the one hand, she still didn’t want Ma to be there. On the other, she knew how much Ma wanted to be a part of her new life.

  “Okay, Ma, but could you do me a favor, please? It would mean a lot to me.”

  “What, Shivi?”

  “Can you help someone else out instead of cooking a dish yourself?”

  “You don’t like my food?” asked Ma.

  “I love it, but I don’t know—”

  “You scared of peoples and what they think.”

  “I’m not scared,” said Shivani. “I know. The kids in this school have very North American tastes. Whenever they serve cabbage rolls in the cafeteria, every student complains of the smell. I don’t want them to make fun of my family, or my food, but especially you. Can you understand that, Ma?”

  Ma shook her head. She clearly did not understand.

  “How would you know they dislike our food if you’ve never let them try it?” Papa said. “If you embrace your culture proudly, so will others. Anita still wears her shalwars, and she’s invited friends over. I never see you wear yours, even at home. And we’ve never met any of your friends.”

  “I find jeans and T-shirts more comfortable,” Shivani said. “And Mel’s too busy helping her mother with the fundraiser.” She hoped Ma wouldn’t remember Mel yelling on the phone, asking for an invite. “I’ll call her over when summer holidays start. Okay?”

  Ma’s eyes held hers. Shivani knew she wasn’t fooled, not even for a second.

  “So you won’t ask for your own stall, right?”

  “You no tell me what I do,” said Ma. “Good night, Shivani.”

  Shivani shuffled to her room. She felt terrible. She knew she had hurt Ma this evening. And she had let Mel down. But at least now the truth was out in the open. She had apologized, and she knew Ma would never do anything to hurt her. There was nothing to worry about now. It was over.

  Chapter Eight

  “You stood me up, Shivani,” said Mel. “I had to wait in line all by myself! And you ignored my texts and pretended not to hear me when I called out to you after the meeting. Why?”

  They were in class, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Shivani wished he’d hurry up so she didn’t have to have this conversation right now. It was getting worse by the minute. Lies always made things so complicated. She hated lying to her best friend. But the consequences of telling the truth would be worse.

  “I’m sorry, Mel, but I-I was feeling sick. I had to get to a bathroom fast.”

  Mel looked at Shivani. “We have bathrooms in the school, in case you had forgotten. But that still doesn’t explain why you didn’t come early. Don’t you want to run the stall with me?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Shivani. “Something came up.”

  “What?” said Mel.

  Mel was not going to let this drop. Shivani’s stomach felt queasy. “Can we please talk about this later?”

  Katya walked in just then and stopped at their table. “Thanks for offering to let me join your stall, Shivani, but I found a partner yesterday. I’m all set.”

  “Great,” said Shivani weakly.

  “On top of everything else, you invite Katya to join us without asking me?” Mel said loudly. Many classmates stared at her and Mel. “Worst friend ever!” Mel picked up her bag and moved to the front of the class.

  Shivani spent the next hour staring at the back of Mel’s head. She watched Mel whisper to the boy beside her, Alex. She didn’t turn around even once.

  After class Mel picked up her bag and walked out without a backward glance. By the time Shivani got to the cafeteria, Mel was already sitting at a table with some friends. There was no room for Shivani. She sat alone and tried to choke down her lunch. She knew she should go over and talk to Mel. But it was so hard. The longer their fight continued, the harder it would be to make up.

  “Are you okay?”

  Shivani looked up from her food. It was Katya. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.

  “Can I sit here?” Katya asked.

  Shivani nodded, grateful for the company.

  “Did you and Mel have a fight?” asked Katya, digging into her homemade lunch of sausage and some kind of potato. It smelled delicious.

  Shivani shrugged. “Sort of.”

  “Hope it wasn’t because you asked me to help at your stall,” said Katya. “I know I’m not the most popular person in class.” She laughed.

  Shivani stared at her. “It doesn’t bother you? Having no friends?”

  Katya put down her fork. “There’s a difference between real friends and those who pretend to be. I don’t have time for those who make themselves look good by making others look bad. Real friends accept you just the way you are. I had a good friend at this school, but she moved away. So now I’m waiting for the right one to show up.”

  Why had Shivani never realized how smart and sweet Katya was? She had never bothered to look beyond the strange clothing and the purple hair. She’d been just like everybody else, desperately trying to be “normal.”

  “Mel’s a nice girl,” said Katya. “I’ve never heard her say anything mean about anyone. If you two are having a problem, you should talk it out before it’s too late.”

  “You’re right,” said Shivani. She’d been so miserable without her best friend, and it hadn’t even been a day! There was only one way to fix it. The truth. “Thanks, Katya.”

  After school Shivani caught up with Mel outside the main doors. “Hey, Mel, can I talk to you for a second?”

  “What is it?” said Mel. Her voice was still cold.

  “How about we walk to my place while I tell you what an idiot I’ve been.”

  Mel’s eyes widened. “You mean, right now? Really?”

  Shivani nodded.

  “Let me text my mom and tell her where I’ll be.” Mel’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Okay, now spill—everything.”

  “You were right when you said I was trying to avoid you after the meeting. And I arrived late on purpose. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I knew it! But why?”

  Shivani looked down at the leaf-littered road. She took a deep breath, then looked up at Mel, aware that her face was burning. “Ma doesn’t speak English very well.”

  “So?”

  “She misuses words,” said Shivani, sweat dripping from her armpits. “She even makes up words! I didn’t
want her making a fool of herself if other parents tried to talk to her.”

  “Is she fluent in your language… Hindu?” Mel asked.

  “Hindi,” said Shivani. “Yes, of course!”

  “So if I were to learn Hindi and speak to your mom in her language, I’d probably stumble a lot. Would you hide me away in a closet and refuse to be seen with me?”

  Shivani shook her head.

  “So why would you expect your mother to be fluent in a language that is not her own? There’s nothing wrong with not speaking it well. At least she’s trying. None of us here are trying to communicate with her in Hindi.”

  Shivani stared at her. Put this way, it made so much sense. But Shivani remembered parties back home where a few “foreign-returned” ladies, ones who had been educated in England and then came back to India, had laughed at Ma when she tried to speak English. If Indians could be so mean to their own, what would Canadians be like? She didn’t want to find out. She refused to be the laughing stock of the school before she’d had a chance to settle in.

  Mel placed a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, it won’t be as bad as you think.” She looked at Shivani, her eyes widening. “Wait a minute. Is that why you’ve never invited me to your place?”

  Shivani nodded, hoping the tears pricking her eyelids wouldn’t escape. It would be so uncool to start crying in public.

  “Dumb reason, but I forgive you,” said Mel. “Because that’s what friends do.”

  “Hey! Wait up!”

  Shivani froze as she recognized the voice. Mel turned back and waved.

  “Where are you girls headed?” said Ryan.

  “Shivani’s place,” said Mel. “We have an assignment to finish for tomorrow.”

  Ryan was looking at Shivani, and her legs started to melt. “You both volunteering for the fundraiser?”

  “My mom’s on the committee,” said Mel, rolling her eyes. “Can you see me getting away with sitting at home while everyone works hard?”

  “I’m running the archery booth,” said Ryan. “It’s fun teaching kids how to use a bow and arrow. And the food stalls look like they’re going to be awesome too. Can’t wait to pig out.”