Three Bargains: A Novel (48 page)

Authors: Tania Malik

BOOK: Three Bargains: A Novel

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A truck trundled through the gate, the driver calling for help with the unloading. The sharp smell of wood glue rose from the vats at the far end of the factory. The workers paused in their labor, watching as he lingered every few steps over this and that, staring off into the distance and nodding to himself as if checking off a list in his head.

He picked his way through the hillocks of logs and wound around the machines and piles of finished boards. There wasn’t anyone around the giant steel furnace, yet from behind its closed door he heard the flames roar like a muffled creature, its waves of heat causing the surrounding air to bend and flicker hypnotically.

There was a crunch of footsteps behind him. He turned. Mr. D’Silva peered at him through the dappled sunshine.

“Madan?” The old accountant held a ledger to his chest. “Madan?”

“Mr. D’Silva!” He took Mr. D’Silva’s hand, frail and soft; all that remained of his full head of hair was a thin edge of gray. “You’re still here?”

Mr. D’Silva clutched Madan’s hand. Through his glasses, his eyes raked over Madan’s face. “For a moment I thought my failing eyes were deceiving me . . .” He looked up at Madan, shaking his head. “I stepped out for a minute, and you’re standing here like you never left.”

“In some way, that’s what it feels like. It’s very good to see you.”

“And I never thought I’d see . . .” He stopped and collected himself. “I’m officially retired, but since I’m the only one left from the old days, he likes me to come around. Look over everything.” He smiled and patted Madan’s hand. “You’re seeing the changes?”

Madan nodded. “That’s new.” He pointed to a long green metal contraption.

“It has a conveyor system that dries the boards in about ten minutes flat. We still pile them in the heating rooms, the old way, but we try these modern things as well.”

“And what about the new factory? It must have all the latest stuff.”

Mr. D’Silva laughed. “Those blueprints have probably turned to dust in some corner of the office,” he said. “No one has spoken of them for over twenty years now.”

He took Madan’s arm as they walked away from the roughened brick walls and into the open. “He busied himself with other things.”

Back out in the yard, the chalky yellow walls of Avtaar Singh’s office stood before them, the same door, part wood, part glass, closed to the noise and activity.

“Go to him,” said Mr. D’Silva, nudging him on. “He waits and he waits.”

In Gorapur,
Madan would tell Nitasha,
There is one place we go first before all others, to the one man with whom, as we all do with the great cosmic giver-and-taker above, I bargained three times—once for my family, once for my life and then for you. He is the beginning of your story and mine.

It may not be the story she would want to hear, but it was the only story he had to tell.

Madan went toward the door without hesitation or fear or sadness. He forgot Mr. D’Silva, and the clanking machines, the trucks rumbling in belching black smoke, the prying dragonflies and the brick walls that bore witness, of what came before and what was yet to be.

Through the half window in the door, he could see the light shining through.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Eternal thanks to my editor Jill Bialosky for shaping and infusing
Three Bargains
with her excellent insights, perception, and kind regard. Thank you as well to everyone at W. W. Norton.

I am indebted to my agent Emma Sweeney for her guidance, support, and commitment, and to everyone at ESA who helped along the way.

Thank you to my writing partners Maya Creedman and Dr. Jennifer Gunter, for their generosity of time and spirit, for reviewing draft after draft, and for their wise counsel, motivation, unwavering faith, and encouragement throughout the years.

To Nikki Marchesiello for painstakingly reading, critiquing, polishing, and honing every single word of the manuscript time after time. Thanks for the innumerable cups of fortifying tea (and sometimes shots of Limoncello!) at her kitchen table, for giving me courage and inspiration when I most needed it, for never allowing me to give up on myself, and mostly for exhorting me to face it all with, “head up, shoulders back, and tits out.”

To my brother Sameer Gambhir, who puts life in perspective and makes me laugh like no one else, and his wife Nikita, for the many nights of brainstorming and deliberations over different aspects of the plot.

An immense debt of gratitude to Annie Yearout, Anjie Seewer Reynolds, Tina Bournazos, Cathy Petrick, and Jennifer Bell, for reading and providing invaluable feedback on various versions of the manuscript.

Special thanks to my cousin Puneet Gambhir, and to my family and friends for information and advice, especially: Kusum Malik, Dr. Manish Malik, Dr. Rashmi Malik, Advocate Sachit Setia, and Arti Setia (constant and forever friend).

To my dog Deuce for his companionship, and for ensuring I went for a walk every morning and evening to stretch my legs and think.

To Rajiv, for his steadfast strength, for keeping me sane, and for paving my way with his love and humor. And finally, to Samara, for the joy she brings to my every moment, for making life worth living, and for allowing me an understanding of myself I never thought possible. You are my one and only bargain.

First Edition

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Book design by Fearn Cutler de Vicq

Production manager: Devon Zahn

The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows:

Malik, Tania.

Three bargains : a novel / Tania Malik. — First edition.

pages cm

ISBN 978-0-393-06340-0 (hardcover)

1. India—Fiction. 2. Fathers and sons—Fiction.
3. Social classes—Fiction. I. Title.

PR9499.4.M356T47 2014

823'.92—dc23

2014011419