21
CHASED AWAY
We spent some of our skimpy earnings on thick plastic sheets to keep our home dry, because Arul said the rainy season was approaching.
“It scares me that the waste man’s so interested in where we live,” I told Arul that evening as we spread plastic on the ground beneath our straw mats and pillows. “You don’t think he’ll come looking for us, do you?”
“No.” Arul sounded confident. “He’s a cheat and a bully, but too lazy to come searching for us.”
“What are you worrying about now, Akka?” Muthu cackled with laughter. “Scared he’s going to steal our gold?”
“You two don’t think we should move?” I said.
“What, and give up our palace above the silver river?” Arul said.
“Don’t worry, he’s scared of me.” Muthu flexed his scrawny arms. “See how much muscle I have?”
And with you and Kutti and the boys close at hand—and the waste mart man far away—it felt silly to worry.
Later that night, I was falling asleep to the patter of light rain when a volley of barks interrupted the peace. I peered out of our tent.
Kutti was standing by the entrance with his back arched.
“What’s wrong?” came Arul’s sleepy voice.
A man cursed, and another man yelled something back. I recognized one of the voices. The waste mart man had found us.
Arul lifted the towel separating our tents. “Quick,” he said. “Run.”
“Rukku.” I shook you awake. “Get up!”
Muthu and I each took one of your hands and pulled you out of the tent. We began to hobble across the rain-slicked bridge.
“Rrruuukkku,” I heard the waste mart man drawl as he and the other man stumbled toward us, “I’ve found you.”
“Our money!” Muthu gasped. “I’ve got to go back for it.”
“We can get it later!” Arul shoved Muthu forward. “Keep going!”
We stumbled on, but Arul stopped to fling a chunk of concrete at the men. Snarling, Kutti hurled himself in their direction. I heard a yowl of pain. Kutti or one of the men?
When we reached the road, Kutti and Arul raced up to join us.
“You two hide,” Arul whispered. “We’ll lead them away.”
In the dim glow of a streetlamp, I saw Muthu’s and Arul’s bare heels thumping along the dark road ahead. Then the boys slowed down, running in full view, hoping to lure the men after them.
The two of us turned in to a side street, and we stiffened against a wall in the shadows. I tried not to think of anything except the feel of your hand, bony but strong, in mine.
We were lucky. The men hurtled down the other road, after the boys.
You slouched over Kutti and mewed like a lost kitten. An occasional car whooshed by.
At last, Arul and Muthu arrived, panting.
“Come on,” Arul said. “We’ve got to find a better hiding place.”
You wouldn’t budge, though the boys whispered encouragements.
“Rukku,” I urged. “Please. We have to go just a little bit farther.”
Slowly, you straightened up, like a snail coming out of its shell, and let us haul you along.
We sped down a quiet stretch of road where huge trees loomed over us.
“Here.” Arul stopped by a long wall. “Come on.”
Arul climbed atop the wall and leaned down.
“Rukku first.” I struggled to lift you as high as I could, and Arul pulled you over the wall. I heard you land with a faint thump.
Kutti’s sharp eyes had discovered a hole, and he was scuffling through it.
Muthu clambered over the wall with Arul’s help, and then it was my turn.
The wet wall gleamed in the faint moonlight. I slipped a few times but finally scaled it and plummeted into bushy undergrowth on the other side.
It was when Arul thudded down next to me that I noticed we were in a graveyard.