Grandpa Peanut was absolutely thrilled, and his face beamed with joy. He smiled at everyone, his toothless mouth wide open behind his beard like a mouse hole under a bush. He pressed his hands together and greeted everyone on the way. His kids were absolutely delighted. The kids from the madrassa, the kids on the street—they were all his children in a way. He was “Grandpa Peanut” to every single one of them, and now he got to take them all for a ride in the car.

Once the car arrived in front of his hut, he tapped the driver on the shoulder and asked him to stop. His granddaughters stood at the entrance, looking at him with great admiration. Dark eyes peered through every hole in the gunnysack curtains that hung from the front doors of the neighborhood huts. Fingers drew the curtains aside for a good look. Half-shielded faces peered out from everywhere. His oldest granddaughter held up her little baby and shouted, “Grandpa! Grandpa!” The old man held out his arms for the baby, a little boy brought the baby to him, and Grandpa Peanut sat the baby on his lap. The procession resumed. The children’s delighted shouts made it clear that Grandpa Peanut had secured all their votes.

The procession passed by Khader’s house. The front door was closed and the windows shut. But Khader’s children had slipped out through the back door and were standing on the front steps.

The old man called out to them, “Hey Khaja, hey Mahmood, hey Ali! Whom are you going to vote for?”

“Grandpa Peanut!” they shouted in unison.

“What about your father?”

“We won’t vote for him!”

“Come on, then. Get in the car!”

The three kids didn’t even wait for the car door to be opened. They jumped right in through the open top, and the procession resumed.

One by one, election promises began to pile up. There was a Sivan temple at the turning toward Pillaimar Street. Its outer wall had collapsed and lay in ruins. Dhamu obtained special permission from the temple board and arranged for the wall to be rebuilt. The work went on day and night. He also distributed free clothes to children from poor Muslim families.

One of Khader’s election promises was that he would get a water pump installed on Vellala Street. He said that he could not bear the sight of Hindu women carrying their pots and walking to far-off wells to fetch water.