Read Online Monsoon Summer by Mitali Perkins - Free Book Online

gigantic caterpillar he was trying to lure into a small jar for transport back to the living room.
    â€œIt’s the money a bride’s family agrees to give the groom’s family when they get married,” Mom explained. “Danita doesn’t have parents, so she’ll have to come up with the money herself.”
    â€œDoesn’t the groom’s family have to give anything?” I asked. “Besides, this girl’s too young to be thinking about marriage.”
    â€œNot in India,” Mom answered. “Girls from poor families don’t have much choice. They’re considered a liability because they can’t earn money. That’s why they pay dowries. Sister Das asked us to hire Danita as a favor to the orphanage. They simply can’t afford to pay dowries for all the girls.”
    â€œSounds like a favor to us,” said Dad, tiptoeing gingerly around the bugs to collect the full cups of tea. “We’ll certainly need the help, what with Jazz starting school and the rest of us at the orphanage.”
    School. I’d been worrying so hard about writing a letter to Steve that I’d almost forgotten what loomed ahead for me in three short days. Slumping in my chair, I watched the caterpillar squeeze itself into the jar. Run for your
life,
I wanted to yell, feeling a strange connection to the creature.

TEN
    On Monday morning, Mom and I walked down the hill
and climbed into an auto-rickshaw. Leaning forward, she gave directions to the driver. We were heading to the center of the city to visit a tailor who sewed the academy’s uniforms.
    I steeled myself as we arrived at our destination. The streets and sidewalks were crowded with morning shoppers, vendors, stray dogs, and beggars. A group of brown-haired children ran over immediately and surrounded me, asking for money in high-pitched voices. They didn’t pay any attention to Mom until she dug in her bag for change and began passing it around.
    Word spread quickly and more kids dashed over to tug at Mom’s sleeves. I shifted my weight from foot to foot. People goggled as they passed, lowering and then raising their heads to check me out from top to bottom. Would Mom never run out of money? Was every kid in Pune going to ask her for a handout?
    A short, thin clerk darted out of one of the air-conditioned boutiques behind the sidewalk vendors. “We sell so very nice
salwars,
” he told me in broken English. “Come inside our shop. We give you the cold cola.”
    Another shoulder-high man popped out of nowhere, tugging at my other elbow. “
Nahin!
Nahin!
Do not go with that cheating fellow. Come with me. We give best value for good price.”
    Neither of them seemed to notice Mom, who was still fishing through her purse for stray coins. I tugged on her sleeve as eyes roamed from my face to hers.
    â€œYes, yes, your maidservant can have cola also,” the first clerk told me. “Come this way only.”
    I glanced quickly at Mom, wondering if she’d overheard. She was gazing down at an older woman selling bracelets on the pavement. “Come on, Mom,” I urged. “There’s the store we need. Let’s hurry!” I tugged her inside and closed the door firmly on the faces of the disappointed clerks.
    A chubby, beaming tailor stood up to greet us. “We heard you were coming this morning,” he told me, holding both of his hands out in welcome toward me. “Sister Das said to keep one eye open for an American girl and her mother.” He peered around Mom as though looking for somebody. “But where is your mother? You didn’t come alone, I hope.”
    That is my mother, you idiot! I thought furiously, but I managed not to say it.
    â€œI’m here,” Mom said, stepping forward. She was frowning, too, I noticed. “My daughter needs this uniform by tomorrow night. Can you finish it by then?”
    â€œOf course, madam,” the man answered,