“Give me the bag, Badur Bhai.” Govindji waved his accountant forward.

Govindji pulled a chicken leg out of the bag and handed the bag back. He held the chicken leg to Gulzar’s lips. “Eat,” he commanded.

Gulzar leaned away from her husband.

Mansoor’s small body stiffened.

Govindji took Gulzar by the base of her neck and pushed her lips to the chicken. “Open, I say.”

Gulzar squirmed, frantically moving her head from side to side, her lips firmly pressed together. Piri-piri sauce dripped red down her chin.

Govindji dug his fingers into her mouth and pried it open. He tried to shove the chicken leg in.

Gulzar bit his finger instead.

The chicken leg fell to the ground.

Govindji’s arm shot out. Gulzar’s head snapped back.

“Animal!” he shouted.

Mansoor wrapped his arms around himself as if to keep from falling apart.

“What’s a man to do with a woman like her, Badur Bhai?” Govindji kicked the chicken leg out of his way and turned to his accountant.

Badur handed Govindji a handkerchief.

“Defiant to the core!” Govindji pulled each greasy finger through the handkerchief. “I’m sick of it. Sick of her. Tells me she can’t stomach it. But we are not Hindus anymore! How many times can I tell her? We don’t believe in those hoodoo-voodoo ways anymore. Before we were Hindus, we were monkeys, so does that mean we should go back to eating bananas and walking on all fours, too?” Govindji chortled. “I say, Badur Bhai, you can take the girl out of the jungle but you cannot take the jungle out of her.”

Gulzar continued preparing lunch, one side of her face bright red.

“Believe you me, I’ve done my level best to bring her into the modern age. To educate her. You’ve got to change with the times. Otherwise you go the way of the dodo bird. But she’s got stones up here,” Govindji said, tapping his forehead. “You saw, didn’t you, Badur Bhai? She is impossible.”

“Yes, sir, I saw everything.”