Honor: A Novel(48)

Rupal’s eyes flashed with anger. “How is it her money? Every paisa she earned belonged to Govind. If she had not married that swine, it would be his.”

“Didn’t half of it belong to Abdul?”

Rupal shrugged. “That is of no consequence.”

Smita felt Mohan stir behind her. “Tell me something,” she said to Rupal. “Were you surprised when you heard about the lawsuit?”

Rupal gave the paan a vigorous chew and then spat out a scarlet streak on the ground in front of him. Smita instinctively moved her feet away from the spot. “It’s that lady lawyer who instigated Meena,” he said. “Coming here, poking her nose in our business.” He paused. “But we will take care of the situation when the time comes.”

Smita felt a chill run down her spine. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I am a man with many powers. Sitting in my home, I can unleash a plague upon New Delhi. I can make a plane fall out of the sky. I can send a hundred snakes into that lawyer’s office. You mark my words, if something happens to those two brothers . . .”

“Is that so?” Mohan said suddenly. “Wah, ustad. You are more powerful than Prime Minister Modi. Wah. Okay, tell me, what is the name of the village where Meena’s sister now lives?”

“How am I to know? This is not my business.”

“Oh. Okay, what’s her phone number?”

“I don’t know. How would I know if she even has a phone?”

“Arre, you are so powerful, bhai. You cannot look into her house and see if she has a phone? Do some of your jadoo right now, no?”

Rupal chewed on the paan, then tucked it into his left cheek, making it bulge. “Mister is mocking my powers,” he said finally.

“He doesn’t mean it,” Smita said hastily. “He is joking around. Sorry.”

But Rupal was not appeased. “Joking-fooling about such matters is not good. Everybody in this village defers to me. People come from other villages to ask my advice when they are sick or need their marriage horoscope read. Ask anyone.”

“I believe you,” Smita said. She waited a beat. “So what do you predict? About the judge’s ruling?”

Rupal shot her a look she couldn’t decipher. Then, he shrugged volubly. “Who knows? Either they will remain free, or they will get the death penalty and become martyrs. Either way, they have restored their family name.” He looked at his watch. “Now, if you can excuse me, it is time for my panchayat meeting. The village council meets every week at this hour. Many important cases we are having to decide this week.”

“May I attend? I’d like to see what . . .”

“How can this be? Only men are allowed at our meetings. Even if a dispute involves a wife or a sister, the woman has to stand outside the house and call out her complaint.”

Rupal gave Mohan a pitying look. “You take care of your missus, city babu. You have learned a few of our customs today. Maybe they will help you.”

Rupal rose from his chair and then waited until Smita did so, also. “Good day,” he said touching his forehead with his right hand. “I will walk you to your car.”

“That’s okay. I think I will walk around the village a little bit. I’d like to . . .”

Rupal smiled politely. “Miss,” he said deliberately. “It is not advisable for a woman to walk around my village with her head uncovered. We understand your customs are different. But you must respect ours.”

Smita opened her mouth to argue, but Rupal cut her off. “No one in the whole village will talk to you without my permission. Which I will not give.”

“Why not?” Smita asked, but he merely gazed at her impassively.

Smita shut her notebook and the three of them walked toward the front door. There, she stopped, struck by a thought. “One more thing. When we visited the brothers, they were still living in their house. How are they managing the bank payments now? You said . . .”

“We take care of our own, little miss,” he said. “I am giving them a loan, of course.”

“You are loaning them money to pay off their bank loan?” Mohan said, not bothering to hide his incredulity.

“That’s so.”

“At what interest rate?”

Smita could tell that Rupal was uncomfortable, but he held Mohan’s gaze. “Under these sad circumstances, I have given the boys a discount. They pay me thirty percent, only.”

Smita gasped. That’s highway robbery, she wanted to say. Instead, she said, “They can afford to pay you and still eat?”

“How is this my business? If they cannot pay, they will lose the house. It is that simple. As it is, I allow Govind to hire out his drunkard brother to me three days a week, to pay down the debt.”

“What does Arvind do for you?”

“What does he do? Whatever big-small jobs I am needing him to do. Three days a week, his scrawny neck is in my hands.”

Rupal raised his index finger to cut Smita off before she could speak.

“One final thing, miss. What I said about giving advice to Govind about the fire? I was only joking with you. Please don’t put such a silly notice into your newspaper.”

“Nobody jokes about such a serious thing to a newspaper reporter,” Smita said.

“We are just ignorant farmers, miss,” Rupal said. “What do we know about the rules of talking to a reporter? Besides, no one will believe such a story. I will deny it all.”