BooksBarbecue
Back Passage West
Chapters (59)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Cast of Characters
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. Letters
  14. Part Two
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. Letters
  26. Part Three
  27. 18
  28. 19
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. 23
  33. Letters
  34. Part Four
  35. 24
  36. 25
  37. 26
  38. 27
  39. 28
  40. Letters
  41. Part Five
  42. 29
  43. 30
  44. 31
  45. 32
  46. 33
  47. 34
  48. 35
  49. 36
  50. 37
  51. 38
  52. 39
  53. 40
  54. 41
  55. Epilogue
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. About the Author
  58. Also by Rishi Reddi
  59. About the Publisher

Smiley’s eyes swept their faces. “Bring ’em forward. I’ll wake my boys.” The night was lifting. The sky grew pink. On the way to the house, he turned back. “What happened yesterday afternoon—y’all should know, that ain’t how I meant it to happen. Always happy to have your business.”

Karak nodded, serious.

“I don’t like that jackass,” Smiley said. In the dim light of the lantern, they could see him swallow. He shrugged. “He don’t really know what he’s doing. Brought me the dirtiest cotton I’ve seen. When the pump pulled it out of the wagon yesterday there were two clods sittin’ right there as big as your head. Said his pickers did it on purpose and his weighting man winked at them.” He huffed, smiled a half smile, adjusted his cap. He was apologizing without apologizing. “I had to cut him seven dollars a bale. He’s blamin’ me now.”

The information was like an offering, but the Singhs were silent, even Jivan. Smiley turned to fetch his sons.

13

* T E L E G R A M *

originating: Fredonia Depot, California, August 30, 1915

destination: Lower Chenab Colony, Lyallpur

ESTEEMED UNCLE COTTON BROUGHT GREAT PROFIT. $2300 COMING TO YOU. PLEASE CONFIRM RECEIPT. HOPE YOU PURCHASE ACRES IN OUR SHAHPUR AS YOU DESIRE. IF HERE MY DUTY IS FULFILLED I WILL RETURN HAPPY.

RAM

The cotton brought so much more money than Ram had expected, he allowed himself to keep fifty dollars before he wired the remainder home. The day he sent the telegram, he walked around the town as if he had grown into someone else—a man with influence and power, who would never again fail, who would never again feel sad.

To celebrate their success, Karak brought Ram to a casino across the border called El Owl. Karak had often asked Ram to come with him to Mexicali before, but Ram had refused, and Karak would go alone. Now Ram did not want to disappoint him, not when Karak had been the cause of so much of Ram’s good fortune. On the ride to the border on the buckboard, Karak told him about Avenida Porfirio Díaz, the main street that could be seen across the muddy canal that formed the line between two nations and two cities: Calexico and Mexicali, names created by a clever man who thought the mix of letters showed how the monies, the interests, the people of the two towns would be interlocking, inseparable. He was right, Karak said. The border, the line, the boundary between people and countries, did not matter too much.

They left the mare and buckboard and checked in at the immigration shack. They crossed the wooden bridge into Mexico. It was the first time Ram had been there. It was dusk; the sun was a red disk floating on distant clouds.