Child of Spring Read Online Free

marble flew like a bullet.
“Arrey wah!”
he boasted.
    I wanted to say something not particularly nice to him, but Amma told me to keep my eyes on the road.
    I took a few steps, then glanced back. Bala was now trailing after a man, his voice suddenly whiny, one hand outstretched and the other rubbing his belly. “Sahib, one penny, if you please,” he cried. “I have not eaten in two days!”
    But the man in the suit yelled
“Hutt!”
at him and shooed him away like a fly from milk.
    We left Bala where the road curved past the cobbler’s shop and the bakery.
    “Amma, why did you make promises about my sparklers before asking me first?” I demanded.
    “Because everyone deserves a bit of happiness on
Divali
,” she replied. “And what’s wrong with a little kindness to a motherless boy, hmm?”
    “Kindness for
him?
”
    My mother tugged on her
pullo
and adjusted its drape over her head, ignoring my remark. “Take Gopal the Milk Man, for instance!” she went on. “He is kind and is rewarded for his generosity, don’t you know! And his dear boy, Ganga, is just as honorable too! You give one and you get back sevenfold, that’s what I say.”
    It was true. Gopal was a good and kind man. And his buffalo had multiplied sevenfold as news of his charity spread in the
busti.
    “Ganga’s firecrackers were the loudest of all last
Divali
,” I admitted. “They were so loud, Kalu hid behind the huts!”
    “The point is,” my mother inserted, “it’s nice to be nice.
Bas!
That is enough. This conversation is not about fireworks.”
    But the conversation
was
about fireworks. Amma had told Bala that I would share
my
sparklers with him. Be nice to Bala? Why should I?
    “It’s not fair!” I stormed, but my mother’s toe rings on the asphalt drowned my voice completely.

Chapter 4

    W e had just passed the general goods store when Kalu loped around the corner. I bent down to stroke his head. “
Aiyyo!
Look, how his poor ribs poke out, Amma. I’ll need an extra bone from the Big Kitchen to fatten him up.”
    Hollow of stomach and crooked of tail, Kalu roamed the streets by day but he usually settled down near my hut at sundown for the leftovers I brought from the Big House. Poor Kalu! Everyone chased him away with a
“Hoosh!”
and a
“Hutt!”
Who would be his friend, if not I? And where would he get his food, if not from me?
    Kalu trailed along beside me with his nose to the ground, sniffing at blackened banana peels and crusty orange rinds. I gave his rump a friendly whack. “Stop following me, Silly Willy! I’ll see you at the hut tonight, okay?”
    Kalu stared up at me with adoring eyes.
    “Go! Shoo!” I ordered, but he wagged his tail and stayed with me all the way to the Big Gate.

    Amma and I got busy the minute we arrived at the Big House. She went straightaway to light the hearth fire with a matchstick. Her cheeks swelled like a wedding pipe player as she blew on the small flame, and before long, the kindling crackled, flames licked the soot-blackened earthen stoves, and smoke burst into the dusky room and stung our eyes.
    I ducked into the henhouse to gather Little Bibi’s breakfast eggs.
    Buk-buk-buk
squawked the hens as I groped around them in the dark. I found four eggs, smooth and warm, in the straw and nestled them in the fold of my
lengha.
I tried to be careful, but when I got ready to leave, one egg rolled out and fell to the ground with a splat.
    I sucked in my breath. I was really in for it now! If Amma knew she’d mutter, “
Aiyyo,
Basanta! Why can’t you be careful?” And if Little Bibi found out, she’d most certainly scream at me, “What? You not only steal, but you break eggs too?”
    Quickly, I threw a fistful of straw over the broken egg and waddled out of the low henhouse.
    “Missus Hen was lazy today,” my mother said when I handed over the eggs.
    “Throw in another onion and no one will know the difference,” I suggested.
    “Mmm-hmm.” Amma sounded distracted. She