At dinner that night, the other teachers admired and complimented one another’s jewelry purchases. Olivia hadn’t bought anything but couldn’t stop thinking about that little, pink-flecked opal and imagining it mounted on a little gold ring on her finger. Part of her really wanted that ring, but the voice in the back of her mind continued to criticize relentlessly, telling her she didn’t deserve it. And she couldn’t turn that voice off. How could you put that baby through surgery? Why did you think you could save your baby girl?
Worst of all, she couldn’t stop asking why her baby. Why did her baby have to develop a defect? Were her genes defective? Was her marriage defective? Millions of women gave birth to millions of babies all over the world. And some of them didn’t even want their babies. So why did she lose hers? Was she just not meant to be a mother?
Tisha’s words came back to her: You are still a mother.
Deep breathing and words of affirmation had calmed her down at the shopping center. She appreciated Tisha’s breathing exercises. Although, if everyone would leave her alone, she wouldn’t keep having meltdowns in the first place. Thankfully, everyone had given her space and gone about their days as though nothing had happened, as though she hadn’t fled the jewelry store without a word like a crazy woman.
“I know a ruby was a big expense,” Melanie commented, holding her new ring in the light so that it shimmered and gleamed, “but the red reminds me of that crazy rain that falls here.”
“Only a big expense compared to cheaper stones,” Aubra assured her. “You won’t find a ruby for that price anywhere else. You got a deal.”
“Speaking of the red rain,” Olivia said, “you were going to tell us something you’d heard from a friend at Kerala University at the market the other day. Before the yelling distracted us.”
“Oh, right,” Aubra said. “Seriously, you cannot share this with anyone else. He swore me to secrecy.”
“And who will we tell?” Delilah asked.
“I mean don’t email anyone back home. Especially not your conspiracy-theorist boyfriend.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Like I said, he has an internship in a lab at Kerala University. The lab received samples of red rainwater to analyze, to determine what caused the red color.” She paused and looked at each of them. “So far they have been unable to identify it. It doesn’t match anything.”
“What are you saying?” Melanie asked.
“Wait a minute,” Olivia said. “One of the newspaper articles I read claimed the material in the rain is extraterrestrial. I wrote it off as nonsense. Are you saying that could be true?”
“Extraterrestrial?” Chris said. “From space?”
Aubra lifted her eyebrows and shrugged. “I’m only reporting what he told me. But they can’t identify it. It doesn’t appear to be sedimentary. They’ve isolated cells they cannot match to anything on the planet.”
“Cells?” Chris asked. “Don’t you mean particles? The word cells indicates something alive.”
“I mean cells.” Aubra lifted an eyebrow. “They’ve cultured them in various temperatures and substrates. But I wasn’t supposed to share that so don’t tell anyone else.”
“So it’s something from space?” Chris repeated.
“They cannot confirm anything at this moment.” Aubra clearly enjoyed being in the know and sharing this bit of information with them. Her self-satisfied smile irritated Olivia.
“That is really bizarre,” Delilah said.
“I’m sure someone will figure it out eventually,” Tisha said. Olivia wished she felt as confident as Tisha sounded.
“Oh, hey!” Melanie said. “I had the best idea for a Diwali craft for the kids! We could get clay, and they can all make their own diyas.”
“Oh my gosh, yes!” Delilah clapped her hands. “I love that!”
“What’s a diya?” Olivia asked.
“It’s a little clay lamp,” Chris said. “Picture Aladdin’s lamp, but with no top on it. During Diwali, everyone will fill their diyas with oil and light the wicks. It’s really pretty.”
Melanie nodded. “After Chris described them, I checked with the local brick kiln, and they said they’d be happy to fire some for our students.”
“That’s perfect!”
“And then I was thinking instead of filling them with oil and lighting them, we could use little flameless tealights. It will have the same effect but be much safer than open flames around the kids.”
“Brilliant,” Aubra said. “I found some patterns for paper flowers that could be a great craft and decoration as well.”
“And then we can have them draw chalk rangoli, like Olivia thought of,” Chris said.
“I’ve been thinking maybe I could have the kids paint superhero shirts. That would be a good craft, wouldn’t it?”
The other teachers’ foreheads wrinkled, eyebrows twisting in confusion.
Aubra scowled. “Superheroes? For Diwali?”
“Yeah. Chris said something about someone beating a monster. Right?”
“Lord Krishna defeated the demon Narakasura. Likening him to a comic-book hero is a little insulting. I wouldn’t recommend that.” Aubra tossed her hair over her shoulder and shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe anyone could be so dense.
Chris attempted to defend her. “I mean, it’s good triumphing over evil. In that regard, it’s a nice similarity.”
“The kids won’t make that connection. She’d be seen as making fun of a major tradition instead of honoring local customs.”
“Sorry,” Olivia said. “I guess I’ve been so preoccupied with the pad machine and getting that installed I haven’t thought much about Diwali.”
“Well, it’s a huge holiday and you don’t want to disappoint your students by not adequately celebrating it. You might want to focus on that.”
“Right. Right. I’ll get chalk for the drawing decoration things and whatever else we need from the shop at the market.”
Chris cleared his throat. “I love that we will be celebrating Diwali with the kids. It’s perfect. A custom to celebrate knowledge winning over ignorance. What better place than a school to highlight that?”
“Does knowledge win out over ignorance, though?” Olivia asked. “I feel like that’s just the stuff of myths. I mean, it’s a great story, but that doesn’t happen in real life. People don’t ever suddenly realize they were wrong and change their ways.”
Aubra pursed her lips as if biting back words then said, “And who decides the beliefs or customs are wrong? Maybe they shouldn’t be changed.”
The edge in Aubra’s tone caught her off guard, but Ms. Vanya bustled from the kitchen to the table, shuttling bowls and platters of food before the conversation continued. Olivia hadn’t been hungry all day, but her stomach growled as a medley of cumin, cilantro, and fresh chapatis enticed her senses.
Delilah scooped dal into a bowl. “I lost another girl in one of my classes today. It never ends.”
The other teachers glanced at Olivia, as if afraid the information might prove too much for her and set her off again.
She accepted a platter of biryani and helped herself. “Maybe when I get this machine installed it will end.”
“Don’t set your sights too high,” Tisha cautioned. “Established traditions don’t change overnight. Although, maybe this will change things slowly, increase awareness and health of women eventually.”
“I don’t expect anything to change overnight,” she said, sliding a hot chapati onto her plate. “Frankly at this point, just finding someone to sell property to me would be an improvement. I’m absolutely stuck and Mukesh is scheduled to arrive next week.”
“Oh, wow,” Tisha said. “You’re already moving forward with this, aren’t you? You’ve paid him and everything?”
“Yes, it’s a done deal. I’m doing this.”
“Have you thought about who will operate it?” Melanie asked.
“I can’t stop thinking about it. But until it’s here and installed, I’m pretty much stuck there too. I’m not sure how to explain what exactly we intend to do until I can demonstrate and show them the machine.”
Everyone at the table stared at their plates, intently involved with food. She knew they were all thinking, I told you so. But she didn’t care.
Ms. Vanya hovered over them rather than scuttling back to the kitchen as she usually did. She wrung her hands, bangles jangling, as she shifted from foot to foot.
Chris looked up. “It’s all delicious as always, Ms. Vanya! Thank you!”
“Welcome.” She wobbled her head and brushed aside the praise. She stared at Olivia. “You would buy building?”
She swallowed a bite, nodding. Had the woman heard something in town or merely overheard their discussion? “That’s right. I plan to put in a machine that would give women jobs. I tried to buy a building today, but the man wouldn’t sell it to me.” She left out the specifics, well aware at this point that periods and pads were not discussed, particularly in mixed company. Chris wouldn’t care, but poor Ms. Vanya would be mortified.
“Uncle of Aditi,” Ms. Vanya said.
She didn’t immediately follow. But then the family resemblance clicked into place. “That man is Aditi’s uncle? That’s why he wouldn’t sell to me? Because her father doesn’t like me?”
Great. In a small community like this, one important person developing a dislike for you meant the whole town would turn on you. Their influence was too great, particularly once rumors and gossip started flying.
“Ignorance holds people back,” Tisha said. “Maybe the students we’re teaching will eventually rise up above superstition and find the success we’re hoping to prepare them for.”
“And who are we to decide that they should change their ways?” Aubra insisted. “Teaching them English, educating them, fine, yes. Obviously, that is an improvement. But we can’t drift back into imperialism and start deciding we know best.”
Really? The young woman from England was lecturing them about the perils of imperialism?
“We’re not trying to turn everyone into little Westerners, Aubra,” Chris murmured. “We’re only trying to improve their lives.”
“If everyone sits around waiting for someone else to fix the world’s problems, nothing ever changes,” Olivia said. “Or if everyone looks the other way and pretends no problem exists. The uneducated are far more susceptible to believing in myths and superstitions. If we don’t combat that ignorance, if we don’t help them see there is a better way, nothing will ever change for the better.”
“And you get to decide your way is better?” Aubra’s eyes met hers directly.
The anger there shocked Olivia. “I didn’t decide. It simply is better. You heard Mukesh describing the miserable plight these women face. If we only look at the improvements to personal hygiene and ignore the social ramifications, this is one hundred percent a good thing for this community. Why are the men so determined to keep their women miserable and stuck at home?”
“That’s the problem here,” Aubra said, her voice rising in volume. “You can’t separate out the social ramifications. Not here. You are flying in the face of tradition to encourage the girls to stay in school and the women to work outside the home. You will be threatening the status quo. It’s the only way they know. We came to teach, not rock the boat.”
“Listen to what you’re saying. Continuing on in this manner, in the only way they know, endangers the lives of their women, keeps their daughters uneducated, and continues the cycle of poverty. Once this machine is installed, a machine I will remind you that was designed by an Indian man to improve the lives of his wife and mother, it will offer so much to this community. If it takes off, imagine the income it can provide to destitute families, to women left on their own and struggling to raise children.”
Aubra’s jaw jutted to the side in an angry scowl, and she crossed her arms. “And even his wife and mother left him. He’s completely alone, ostracized, shouted at, and threatened with violence. No one wants this. Why can’t you see that?”
Why in the world was her fellow teacher getting so worked up? “I’m not asking for your help.”
“No, but your actions impact all of us! They already meet foreigners with suspicion. Now this.”
“Now what? What are you talking about?”
“Aubra,” Tisha cautioned.
She looked back and forth between the two teachers. “What? Are you keeping something from me?”
“She should know!” Aubra said, dropping her fork with a clang. “Chris has been trying to approach people in town, urging them to get behind your venture and support selling property to you.”
She spun to face him. “I didn’t know you did that.”
His cheeks pinked, and he shrugged. “Just trying to help. I thought since I’m a guy, they might listen to me. Ya know?”
Ms. Vanya spoke up again. “No. Friend of Miss Olivia.”
“Friend of . . .” Her head swam as frustration bubbled from her stomach to her larynx, choking the words in her throat. She paused to breathe deeply as Tisha had taught her. “So anyone associated with me is being blacklisted? Is that what you’re saying?”
Ms. Vanya looked confused.
“Not blacklisted,” Aubra said. “We’re basically untouchables now!”
Unfamiliar with the word, Olivia shook her head.
“Untouchables, the lowest of the low. The outcasts, who aren’t even included in the caste system here. Dirty and gross, so disgusting no one will get close to them or do business with them.”
Chris pressed fingers to his temples. “Aubra, let’s not—”
“Stop encouraging her, Chris! And you!” She whirled on Olivia. “Girls disappearing from our classrooms upsets you? Wait and see what you’ve done. No parent will allow untouchables anywhere near their children, much less to teach them. Get ready to watch all the children disappear from the entire school.”
“We don’t know that will happen, Aubra,” Tisha tried to intervene.
“It will! Wait and see. How will we buy things for Diwali? How will we buy anything? Shopkeepers won’t let untouchables in their stores. They won’t be seen doing business with us. She’s even managed to ruin Diwali!”
“Aubra.” Tisha’s voice held a note of warning.
“No. We’ve tried it your way. We’ve all been gentle and patient at your urging, but enough is enough.”
Gentle and patient . . . at Tisha’s urging? What was happening? She looked at Tisha, but the woman only shook her head. None of the other teachers would make eye contact. Had all their friendships been orchestrated? Did they all talk about her behind her back? Oh, poor Olivia. Everyone be nice to her. Be her friend because she’s so pathetic she couldn’t possibly make any real ones. What about Chris? She couldn’t look at him. She’d been so convinced his concern was genuine. This cut deep. Somehow, his fake friendship hurt most of all.
She lowered her fork, appetite gone. Cheeks flaming, she stood to leave.
Chris grabbed for her wrist, but she shook him off. “I only wanted to help. Help someone. Save lives. I thought I could do something good.”
Tisha stood and intercepted her. “You are. Aubra is getting carried away. Sit down. Eat.”
“No, it sounds like she’s right. If the entire town is turning against me, I don’t have any business trying to force this on them. I can’t make any progress on my own, and no one will help.” She dropped back into her seat. How typical. Aubra was right—who did she think she was? Why did she think she could move an anthill, much less a mountain?
Ms. Vanya moved to stand behind her and placed a hand on her arm. “I help, Miss Olivia. I help.”