PAVISH AND KYLE

CHAPTER FOUR

The rusty ceiling fan rolled slowly above and one of Monica Gandhi's best hit songs was playing on the radio. The living room seemed serene with the sparse furnishings of two sofa chairs and a new plastic chair settled at the left side of the room.

Pavish sat on the floor directly under the fan with her head resting on the table in the center of the room. She wore a black camisole and a blue baggy short that Bahan Deepika had given her after a year's use. With deep concentration, she bit her bottom lip trying to knit a deep blue sweater for her parents as their anniversary gift. She already had a matching one made for herself and hoped to wear it with the denim jean Bahan Deepika also gave her.

The sound of a heavy knock on the door jolted her from her work, making her heart skip a beat. Who could that be this early and so loud? She thought setting the woolen material and tools aside on the table.

"Coming!" She said in Hindi and went over to open the door. She stood in shock with her mouth open at the figure standing in front of her. Why was he here suddenly? Was he here to raise a commotion from the incident of yesterday? She thought. Her heart had long stopped beating and was now pounding hard now against her ribcage.

"Would you let me in or I do so myself?" Uncle Khan's tight commanding voice asked.

Pavish could not utter a word; she simply stepped back with shaking knees and allowed him come in. She squeezed the door handle tighter to keep from falling and watched him step into their house with his expensive shoes cloaked with mud and dirt from streets and the rainfall of last night.

"Namaste Uncle." She said and swallowed at the lump of fear that had risen to her throat. She blinked and watched his every reaction, trying to read the reason why he was there. Whatever it was, she knew it was trouble, especially when Mandisha had made a threat the previous day.

"Are your parents in?" He asked impatiently, ignoring her greetings. His eyes scanned the room accessing all they had. He looked at the creaking ceiling fan that Pavish had been enjoying only moment ago and frowned uncomfortably at it. He was dressed in black suit and looked in no mood for jokes.

"Get them!" He barked.

Pavish didn't need to move a step, the noise his voice made had already brought her mother in. Tanu appeared from her room with concerned frown on her face and then on seeing uncle Khan, the cause of the blather, a huge fake smile plastered across her cheeks.

"Namaste Bhai Khan, aap kaise hain?" (Hello brother Khan, how are you?) She asked in Hindi. Her hands were clasped together more tightly than the greeting demanded, making the veins on her lean hands very conspicuous. Mama opened her lips to utter another word of greeting when Papa rushed out. He was still wearing his faded cream night overalls that proved his was as surprised as everyone else.

"Ah! Khan? Namaste!" He said with a startled look on his face and gave a rumpled smile.

"Namaste Bhai." Khan said clasping his hands briefly and returned them to his back where he had them folded.

"Why are you here this early? I hope everything is all right?" Papa asked shifting his weight to his right hip with a hand placed on it.

"I too hope so, Bhai." He replied curtly.

"Have a seat then, let's talk." Papa said shaking his head softly.

Uncle Khan looked at the crumpling sofa that was torn at the edges exposing brown foam underneath. Most sides were patched with different pieces of clothing that conflicted with the sofa's original brown and green color. "No, I won't be long." He said shaking his head like he'd rather sit on hot coals.