Ram brushed up against the bars of the cage. A small window near the ceiling allowed a ray of sunlight. Karak turned toward him and the chains on his legs rattled. Ram could feel their weight on his own ankles. How could Karak come forward when he was wearing those chains, even if they were long enough?

They stared at each other. Up close, Ram could see what he did not in the courtroom: the gray hollows under Karak’s eyes, the sagging muscles in his cheeks, the grief.

“I did it for both of us, you know that,” Karak said.

Ram was surprised by his bravado, the attempt at justification.

“Our treasure chest,” Karak said.

Despite himself, Ram said, “Yes, I know.”

“I was mad. Damn mad.”

Ram was silent. He did not want to hear those words again.

“They won’t quarrel with us Hindus anymore. Now they know we won’t tolerate it. Even if I hang.”

“They won’t dare quarrel with us, Karak,” Ram said, to mollify him. He stared at his own boots, at the line where the iron bars met the floor. From this narrow vantage, it was unclear which one of them was imprisoned.

They did not speak for a while. Karak sat on the bench, holding his head between his hands. Ram remained standing near the bars. It was comforting to be there, to stand silently with Karak in the sadness. Ram had not expected this.

Finally he said, “Jivan Singh. Amarjeet Singh. Kishen Kaur. Everyone seeks the best for you. Everyone is fighting.”

Karak nodded, but he did not come closer.

Ram could think of nothing more to say. Then his mother’s voice came to him, intoning a sacred phrase. “In the remembrance of the Divine, there is no fear of death. In the remembrance of the Divine, all hopes are fulfilled.”

Karak closed his eyes.

Night was falling. Ram turned to go.

“Please,” Karak said, “ask Rosa to come see me. I will spend the night here. She can come in the morning. They’ll take me back to El Centro afterward.”

“I’ll do that, Karak,” he said.

37

KARAK HAD NOT BEEN INSIDE A JAILHOUSE SINCE HIS DAYS IN HONG Kong, when he had brawled with a white British soldier. They had called it the “brig.” In the afternoons, they had been let out for exercise and every meal consisted only of rice with a dried paste. He shared the cell with a family of mice. But when Karak’s lieutenant learned that Karak was there, he managed to free him in just two days. That lieutenant had liked Karak. He had watched out for him. Sometimes they drank together, although afterward, the lieutenant would visit the Filipino brothel where the white officers went, where Karak was not allowed.