“Will you?” she said. He was surprised by her bitterness.

“Ishwar and I will come back. We will make enough money to buy more land in Shahpur. Nothing can replace the village where our ancestors lived. Isn’t it true, Padma?”

“By your going, we can move back there in two years or three. If you stayed, maybe it would take five years, or six, even seven. What does it matter? I would rather have you stay here in the canal colony with me than return to the village sooner.”

This was true. Lyallpur was not like the districts to the east, where famine raged on and off. The British would not let Lyallpur fail, not when they had invested so much in the canals, not when the gins were always busy there, and the cotton was being carted out by wagon and boat. The family did not really need him to go, did they?

He had not dared question his uncle. With money Ram made in the U.S. they all would move back to Shahpur quickly. His uncle would give the land in the canal colony to Ram’s eldest cousin. The rest of the family would be settled back in Jullundur. Years later, when he was more American, he would wonder why he did not consider his own life in this calculation.

“I will bring great prestige on the family if we can settle back in our old village as wealthy people.”

“I did not marry you for the prestige.”

“Ishwar is going. Who will look after him?” It had been flattering that Chacha-ji had held him equal to his own son, when Ram was only his sister’s child. Ishwar too had been surprised that they were traveling together.

“Ishwar is not a boy.”

“He is younger than me.”

“Only by a season or two.” He waited for more, but she did not say the most obvious thing: Ishwar was not married. He would not leave anyone behind.

His heart beat loudly inside his ears but he stayed quiet. If he said more, they would have to reveal what they both already knew: that some part of Ram wanted the adventure, desired to see that distant place. He would earn his uncle’s praise. His mother would no longer be reviled as a widow who had raised her son off a brother’s charity. Ram would pay off that childhood debt and return as a man, equal to his cousins. For Padma and himself, there would always be later. He would be back.

He did not recognize the emotion he felt until he left the hut, walking under the violet sky by the canal waters. He was angry with her.

Ram went to the temple, although he had already visited that morning, although the pujari had already put the Goddess to sleep and had retired himself. Then he walked a furlong more and entered the gurdwara. The langar was closed, the oven extinguished and the seating area deserted. The holy book had already been put away for the night.