Chapter Two- The Boy Who Would Not Wake

Later, we sat in the living room working through our piles of homework. Pa was flicking through the channels as if they were all things he’d seen a million times before, while Ma sat in her usual chair, knitting for the Aunt Anita’s new baby.
2x(x+x)5x
The letters swam before my eyes in a very disturbing way. I tried to concentrate on what they meant but all I could think of was Saawan and his red cheek. He was sitting on the couch next to Pavni now, working his way through his English essay. He wasn’t complaining (not that he could), but the inflamed skin spoke volumes. Several times I looked up from my work and stared at him, but instead met my mother’s eyes. Clearly, I was to forget the incident. Humph. Dinner followed study time with indecent haste, and so began the one of the most uncomfortable half hours of my very short life of thirteen years. The table was deathly quiet. I turned my spoon over and over in my rice so the sticky grains coated every inch of it. “Laila, stop that.” snapped Ma. I was beginning to think this was the only conversation to occur all evening, when, a few minutes later, Pavni cleared her throat.
“Should I ask your mother to find the cough medicine, Pavni?” queried my father, without looking at her.
“No thank you, Pa.” said Pavni, looking flustered. “I-“She took a deep breath. “May I go to the school social tomorrow night?”
What little noise there had been before her question abruptly disappeared. Everyone had stopped eating and was now staring at either Pavni or Pa.
Pa finally looked at her. “Will there be dancing?”
“Yes.” Pavni said, a little dolefully.
The spoon entered his mouth. “And boys?”
“I suppose.”
Pa set down his spoon and swallowed his mouthful. “The answer is no.”
He excused himself and got up from the table. Everyone turned to look at Pavni. Her face showed no particular emotion; I don’t think she had ever really begun to hope.

At night, I poked my head out from my bunk to stare down at my sister.
“Pavni?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sad?”
Her lips twisted in a queer manner as she considered the question. “No.” she replied finally.
I withdrew my head and closed my eyes, and was startled when she spoke again.
“But I am angry. At Pa.”
I remained silent. Within moments the sound of her light snores filled the room. I stayed awake for ages and ages.
Dawn followed night, and soon the daily early morning rush began.
“Ma!” screamed Pavni. “Have you seen my maths notebook?” We were all decidedly more liberal with our mother.
“No. Pavni, you must be more responsible. Saawan, wake up!” she banged on his door. “Laila, do the dishes, could you?”
I grumbled my way over to the sink and began washing as my mother opened the front door. She began walking downstairs. “And wake Saawan!” she shouted over the shoulder.
Are you serious? So now I had to be the mother too?
I dried my hands and hurried to Saawan’s room, stepping over piles of stuff on my way. I tried the knob, but the door wouldn’t open. Then I realized Pavni’s notebook was wedged underneath the door. I dislodged it and kicked the door open. Saawan was lying on his side, fast asleep. On an instinct, I did not shout at him. Instead, I tiptoed to the side of his bed and kneeled down, then almost fell over. The left side of his face had turned a ghastly purplish blue, and his eyes were bloodshot. I screamed and screamed, but he did not wake up.