Pappu, who’d been sitting on a three-legged stool, moved over to the bench near Asan and stared at him.

“What is it, son?” Asan said with affection, putting his arm over the boy’s shoulders.

“Asan, you left the story hanging and just vanished like magic,” Pappu said. “You did not resolve the mystery of who that moonlight stranger was, the one with the ear studs and hair bun.”

All this while, Joseph was pressing clothes on the long ironing table. Joseph had this lovely dark face and beautiful white teeth. Dark lips. A neat, crisp shirt—Joseph could not bear even a speck of dust settling on his shirt; half his time was spent turning his head this way and that and slapping away the dust on his shoulders. When he heard Pappu, he paused, holding up the iron box. “Who?” he said. “What’s this about a stranger with earrings and hair bun?”

We summarized Chellathayi’s story for him. While we were telling it, Asan kept staring at Joseph. As the story came closer and closer to the end, a faint smile crept over Joseph’s dark lips. At this, Asan looked away instantly and fixed his gaze on the Ulakkai waterfalls—the pride of the northerly hills.

Joseph grinned, then winked at us. Chellathayi’s story is not true, it’s invented, his gestures seemed to suggest—but at that exact moment, Asan turned.

“Dei! You are undermining me behind my back?” Asan shouted, lifting his staff. “If you are a real man, challenge me to my face.” Joseph smiled and seemed happy to, but Asan was not going to let him have his say. He planted his staff on the steps and entered the shop. “Hey! Look! What are you blabbering? Isn’t it true that it was I who cleverly saved the tree from that wretched fellow’s hands? Otherwise, do you think the tree would still be standing here? Tell me. If men and women and birds and beasts are able to enjoy its shade today, who is responsible for that? All the shops and businesses that rely on the shade of that tree today—tell me, who made it happen? Tell me, hand over your heart!” Asan slammed his hand on the ironing table.

“OK, fair enough,” Joseph admitted. “What you said just now is true.”

“What is?”

“If your plan hadn’t worked that day, the tree would definitely have been cut down.”

“So you agree?” Asan roared.

“I agree.”

“Then shut your mouth!” Asan said, triumphantly.

“But I wasn’t talking about that! I was talking about Chellathayi’s—”

“You agreed, didn’t you?” Asan said, cutting him off. “End the matter right there. Don’t try to evade the facts.”