Understanding came after

The Snack-shop Next Door

I turned to leave when Arbaaz stopped me again.

“Are you hungry? I can make you and your wife dinner.”

“No, thank you,” Dani said.

“Well, you can always go next door for a snack,” he said after a pause.

He pointed through the window to a glowing light coming from a neighboring house.

~

Sometime later that night, I took his advice and went out looking for a snack.

Next door, I found an awning stretched over the side of a house.

Bags of chips hung from the eaves beside a ragged hole leading into a room that had once formed a bedroom. Now, the empty window frame remained, along with a curtain, which had been pulled to the side. The window sill was laden with snacks.

A ten-year-old girl stood on the other side. She had black hair and a green skirt.

She smiled and ran away as I approached to retrieve her older brother. His clothes hung loose over his gawky frame, and I saw the soft beginnings of a mustache creeping along his upper lip.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know any Indian snacks. Tell me. What do you like?”

He grabbed a bag of Oreo cookies and another bag of Cheetos. He handed them to me and smiled.

I pushed them back across the counter.

“No, thank you.”

Then I pointed to two random bags of chips hanging from the eaves, and an ice cream bar sitting in a freezer.

Everything had Hindi writing covering it.

Together, they cost under a dollar.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from The Wrong Kind of Ready

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading