Many years from now, he will blame himself for wishing that call to come. He will wonder, as a rational, atheistic adult, if the universe was trying to teach him some sort of lesson. But in that moment, all he feels is relief. Contentment. In that moment, he feels powerful. Lucky. Wonders if he should wish for other things. For money. For his parents to buy a Japanese luxury sedan, or perhaps an Audi. For Barry Uncle and Mohan Lal to shut the hell up. For them to be called away too.
* * *
The rest of the day slips by in a blissful haze of game shows, cartoons, and reruns. His mother calls once to say that she will have dinner at the hospital. She’ll probably sleep there because they might have to operate on somebody in the middle of the night. He is disappointed, especially since Barry Uncle has gone, and his father has become grumpy. Mohan Lal has made him change the channel to public television, which is airing a program about the fall of the Berlin Wall and a new era of peace and prosperity. As Mohan Lal watches his program, Siddharth lies on the leather sofa with his feet on his father’s lap. He daydreams. About Chris Pizzolorusso’s birthday party next weekend. It will be at Skate World, and it will be his first boy-girl party since the first grade. He daydreams about their upcoming family vacation to Florida. Maybe Arjun and he will pick up girls. They have plans to go snorkeling, and he wonders if they might find a sunken treasure in the middle of the ocean. Then they’d be rich. Then his mother wouldn’t have to be on call anymore, and he wouldn’t have to be alone with his father on Saturday evenings.
Mohan Lal interrupts his reverie. Says, Son, time for a shower, I think.
I just showered yesterday, says Siddharth.
Mohan Lal laughs. Says, Son, I can smell you from here. Go shower.
It’s your farts, Dad. You’re stinking up the whole room.
They both laugh.
Arjun gets home at seven, and the three Arora men eat dinner together. Mohan Lal has prepared his famous tacos, made with hard El Paso shells. Red kidney beans, raw onions, and grated orange cheese. Arjun tells them about his youth-in-government conference. Explains that he and Adam Aaronson designed a bill that would discourage people from staying on welfare.
Siddharth is growing bored. Doesn’t like the fact that his father listens so attentively when Arjun speaks.
Mohan Lal says, Son, a strong state must protect its vulnerable citizens.
Siddharth isn’t totally sure what vulnerable means. But he knows his father has said this word incorrectly, pronouncing the v like a w.
Mohan Lal says, Arjun, I’m proud of you. One day you’ll make a great politician. One day you’ll be a man who will make a difference.
Arjun says, Thanks, but politicians make diddly. I’m gonna be a radiologist.
Siddharth and Arjun go to bed around eleven. Within minutes, Arjun is snoring. Siddharth is happy to have his brother nearby on a Saturday night. Usually, Arjun is out on the weekends. Out with Adam Aaronson. With his friends from the cross-country team, the school newspaper. Sometimes they go drinking. The drinking makes Siddharth nervous, but he has agreed not to tell his parents. His father doesn’t need another excuse to get angry with Arjun. Mohan Lal blows up when Arjun isn’t working hard enough. For his mother, it’s the opposite. She gets annoyed when Arjun doesn’t take time out to relax. Siddharth agrees with her. He thinks Arjun needs to learn how to chill. Thinks Arjun should watch more television.
Siddharth falls asleep peacefully, contented by the knowledge that his mother will have the next few days off. He thinks, Maybe we’ll have our shitty art lesson tomorrow. Thinks, Maybe art lessons aren’t so shitty. At six in the morning, a thunderous pounding wakes him up. He struggles to open his eyes, the light feeble outside his window. At six in the morning, he stares from his bed as his father barges into their bedroom. Mohan Lal shakes Arjun. Mohan Lal’s wispy gray hairs are tousled, and he is wearing nothing but his tight white underwear.
Arjun groans. Says, Dad, what the hell?
Siddharth cringes because Arjun has said hell in front of their father. Now Mohan Lal might erupt. But Mohan Lal doesn’t react. He just says, Get up, son! Get up. I need to talk with you.
If it were later in the day and he weren’t so sleepy, Siddharth would protest. He would say that he is old enough to hear whatever is about to be said. But once Arjun follows Mohan Lal out of the room, Siddharth closes his eyes. He closes his eyes and falls back asleep.
* * *
He arrives at the Connors’ just before six thirty. Eric and Timmy are still sleeping, so he sits in their family room and watches cartoons on their big-screen television. Mrs. Connor is beside him, smoking cigarettes and ironing the family’s church clothes. Siddharth is jealous of this large television. He is jealous that everybody from his school gets to meet up at church.
Eric and Timmy wake up at a quarter to eight, and he is relieved. The three of them head out to the garage and examine Eric’s new bike jump, which he constructed with spare plywood, nails, and two-by-twos. Eric is three years older than Siddharth, and now in junior high school. Timmy is two years older than Siddharth, but he is only in the fifth grade because he stayed back when he was eight years old. The Connors are his best friends, but he thinks Eric is cooler than Timmy. Eric is like a superhero, the way he can build jumps and do back handsprings. The way he can do a flip in the air without taking a running start.
Mr. and Mrs. Connor adopted Eric and Timmy from Laos, a place Siddharth can’t locate on a map. But his father has told him that America has ruined that part of the world. Mohan Lal says that the only reason the Connors adopted Eric and Timmy is because they screwed up their first kids. Their real kids. His mother gets upset whenever Mohan Lal says this. She tells him to be more compassionate. To mind his own business.
After admiring the bike jump, the boys grab Timmy’s brand-new Daisy air rifle and head to the backyard. They stray into the Aroras’ back lawn, and Siddharth is glad to be closer to home. Realizes now that he has been uneasy at the Connors. He has been uneasy even though he usually loves it there. He tells himself Arjun will pick him up soon. That his mother was just having a little car trouble and they shouldn’t be much longer.
Timmy Connor says, Your dad needs to cut the grass. He always lets it grow so freaking long.
Siddharth feels ashamed of his father. Annoyed by Timmy. Says, He’ll mow it. He’s a busy guy.
Timmy says, Your dad’s tractor sucks. You know what my dad says when your dad cuts the grass? He says, Hey, guys, grab the popcorn, old Hajji’s at it again.
Siddharth isn’t sure what this means but knows it isn’t nice. Says, Whatever, I bet my dad makes more money than yours.
Eric Connor says, You both got no fucking clue what you’re talking about.
Eric takes aim at Siddharth’s mother’s squirrel-proof bird feeder, which dangles from the maple tree behind their screened-in porch. A cardinal is nibbling at some seed there. Siddharth wants to tell him to stop. Wants to tell him that this is his mother’s feeder, and he shouldn’t shoot. But he also wonders if Eric will actually go through with it. Wonders what it will look like to see a dead bird.
Eric turns from the feeder toward Siddharth’s old jungle gym, which is being claimed by the woods. Is engulfed by vines and the branches of a black cherry tree. He fires. Hits the metal slide, which clangs loudly. The Capasso kids, who are enemies with the Connors, can probably hear it. They can probably hear it all the way down the street. Siddharth isn’t sure if he likes the gun. The noise. Eric fires again, and the clang echoes more loudly. It’s a frightening sound, but one that fills him with adrenaline. He can picture his mother. Imagines her lecturing him about shooting BBs in the backyard.