Embrace the Chicken

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  “That’s why there are two of us at each stall,” Mel piped up. “In a little while, why don’t you and Shivani go grab something?”

  “That sounds good,” said Shivani, secretly pleased.

  “Yeah, then maybe you and I can go when they get back,” Cal said shyly to Mel.

  Mel smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Within the hour the field was full of people. It was a beautiful day, and Shivani was glad to see so many families out enjoying the event. Mel handed out darts and explained the rules while Shivani took care of selling tickets and making change. She also made sure no one tried to sneak over the line to get closer to the board. Most of the kids didn’t manage to pop a balloon with the dart. But Mel handed out the gummy bears with a cheery “Oh! Too bad! Why don’t you try again?”

  Now and then Shivani glanced over at the archery stall. It didn’t seem to be as crowded as theirs. Good! She and Mel had to win this. Shivani started calling out to kids and their parents, inviting them to step up and try their luck.

  “It’s easy!” she said. “Even a baby could do it.” That was actually true. Earlier a toddler had grabbed a dart from her big brother. Before the mother could grab it from her, she had thrown it. Somehow she’d managed to pop a balloon. Everyone started clapping, and the toddler started to cry. Maybe she wanted to do it again.

  Around lunchtime the crowd outside died down as people headed for the gym—and food. Shivani glanced over at Ryan. He was patiently showing a kid how to use the bow and arrow.

  “Shivani! Wake up!” Mel’s voice cut through her daydreaming.

  A couple of people were holding out money.

  “Sorry!” she said. “The sun got in my eye! How many tickets?”

  Mel snorted.

  Shivani noticed that people walking past their stall were balancing paper plates and bowls full of food. For a moment Shivani was sure she could smell butter chicken. Her skin chilled despite the hot afternoon. No, it couldn’t be. Her nose was playing tricks on her.

  “So much great food,” a student said as he walked past. “And that last stall at the back—man, I hope they come back next year. I’ve never tasted food like that before. So different.”

  Shivani stared as they walked away. One word stuck in her head. Different.

  No, no, no, no, NO!

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You mind if I take my break now, Mel?” Shivani asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “Sure,” said Mel. “I got this.” She stared at Shivani with concern. “Everything okay?”

  “I think so. Not sure. Gotta check it out.” She was babbling. Mel looked confused. “Be right back,” Shivani said, grabbing her bag from under the table.

  “Listen, Shivi-girl, take it easy, okay?” said Mel. “Don’t freak out or anything.”

  “What do you mean—” Shivani started to say.

  “Hey, wait for me!” Ryan called. “I’m starving, and I need food. Now.”

  Shivani forced herself to smile. The one time she didn’t want him to notice her, he had. If only she’d moved quicker or slipped out the back, she could have avoided him.

  “Sure,” she said. She felt Mel’s gaze on her. She wished she could take Mel instead. But someone had to run their stall. And she’d have to make up some excuse for Ryan. Right now all she wanted to do was confirm her suspicions. “What were you saying, Mel?”

  “Nothing,” said Mel, not meeting her eye.

  Everyone was acting weird today.

  “Let’s go,” said Ryan. “If I don’t eat soon I’ll die.”

  As they walked toward the gym, Shivani studied the plates of everyone they passed.

  Normal.

  Normal.

  Still normal.

  But when they reached the doors, Shivani knew her worst fears were about to come true. That smell was unmistakable.

  Ryan sniffed once. Twice. “What is that? That is definitely not the lunch lady’s chili.”

  Oh no, Shivani thought, her heart beating hard. That stubborn mother of hers had gone and ruined everything!

  The food stalls were set up along the sides of the gym. But there was such a crowd that Shivani couldn’t get a good look at them all. She didn’t answer Ryan’s question, but her nose had confirmed her worst fears. Despite her begging Ma not to embarrass her, she’d gone ahead and set up her food stall anyway.

  As Shivani made her way to the back of the gym, the last few days started to make sense. Being shooed out of the kitchen. Ma and Anita always giggling away. The butter-chicken sauce on the stove. They had been preparing for the fundraiser. And neither of them had let her in on the secret.

  “Wow! Will you look at that line!” said Ryan. “There must be something awesome at that stall.”

  “Probably burgers, hot dogs and fries,” said Shivani. “It’s what kids love, right?”

  “Shivani! There you are!”

  Shivani turned around. It was Mel’s mom. She smiled at Shivani and then turned her attention back to the paper plate she held. It was loaded with the food Shivani knew so well. There were a couple of mini poories, the delicious fried bread that Shivani loved. And two small paper bowls filled with chana masala and butter chicken. Mrs. Jennings was using a poorie to scoop mouthfuls of the two dishes.

  “This is the best food I have ever eaten. You should try—” She stopped herself and laughed. “What am I saying? You know how great this is!”

  “It smells amazing,” said Ryan.

  Shivani nodded through clenched teeth. She wanted to throw up.

  “You knew Ma had signed up as a food-stall volunteer?” she asked.

  Mrs. Jennings nodded. “I am sorry, Shivani. Keeping it a secret was Mel’s idea. After she tasted your mother’s cooking, she knew a Taste of India stall would be a hit. I agreed because I felt it was the perfect way to introduce your mother to our community. Mel said she would make you understand. And there she is.”

  Mel came running up to them. Mrs. Jennings moved on.

  Shivani pulled Mel aside. “How could you?” she said, making sure Ryan didn’t overhear. “I thought you were my friend!”

  “Sorry, Shivi-girl,” said Mel. “But I knew you wouldn’t agree. Even Aunty was reluctant to do this without telling you. But I knew this was the only way.”

  “And now everyone is going to laugh at me. And at my mother,” said Shivani, choking back tears. “She wasn’t ready for this yet.”

  Mel looked over Shivani’s shoulder. “Well, why don’t we go check out how terribly your mom is doing. Then I’ll make it up to you, any way I can.”

  “C’mon, let’s get going,” said Ryan, interrupting. “My taste buds are going crazy.”

  “Hey, who’s looking after our stall?” said Shivani.

  “I asked Katya,” said Mel. “She seems pretty cool.”

  Shivani followed the line to the back of the gym. People were inching forward slowly.

  “This food is to die for,” she heard an old lady say.

  “I’m here for thirds,” a teen said to his friend. “You gotta try this, bro.”

  Finally she reached the head of the line. And there they were. Ma was handing out loaded plates while Anita collected the money. They moved quickly. What was slowing down the line were the people asking for selfies with Ma and Anita.

  Ma was wearing a beautiful green sari embroidered with peacocks. Anita wore a sunshine-yellow shalwar kameez. They must have changed after Shivani left. She looked back at the line of people. They were snapping pictures of her family even as they waited.

  “May I take a picture with you?” Shivani heard a parent ask.

  Ma nodded, smiling. “You take,” she said and posed with a plate of food.

  “Thank you!”

  It happened again and again.

  “Hey, you two,” said Shivani, approaching the stall.

  “Hello, beta,” said Ma. “No talk now. At home, okay?” She noticed Mel come up behind Shivi. “Hello, Melanie, we doing
good, no?”

  “Doing great, yes!”

  Anita looked up at Mel. “We’re almost out of food! Papa is on his way with the next batch. We did it, Mel!”

  Someone touched Shivani’s elbow. Ryan. She’d forgotten he was here!

  Shivani cringed. Ryan’s last experience with curry had not gone well. What must he be thinking now?

  “Hey, do you think you could use your influence and snag me a plate?” said Ryan. “I’ll die of hunger if I have to stand in line.”

  Shivani stared. Was he serious? Or was he making fun of her?

  “Please,” said Ryan. “This is your chance to save a dying soul.”

  “And while you’re at it, get one for me too,” said Mel. “I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

  Shivani was shocked. She looked over at Ma. She looked so happy. And she was making a lot of other people happy too. What had Shivani been so worried about? She should have trusted her friend from the start.

  “Thanks, Mel,” she said, throwing her arms around her best friend. “You’re the best!”

  “I know,” Mel said, “but get us some of that butter chicken before we die.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The gym was crammed. Parents stood along the walls and at the back. It was their last assembly before the summer holidays. Principal Travers was going to announce which stall had made the most money. Shivani knew she and Mel hadn’t won. The bouncy castle in the middle of the field had had a lineup three times as long as theirs. Shivani had seen kids going back again and again.

  Anita and Ma sat beside her. Papa was working, but this time Shivani didn’t mind. Everyone had loved Ma and her food. No one had even mentioned her halting English. They’d just raved about her mother’s cooking. They’d told Shivani how lucky she was to be able to eat this food without needing to travel to the city. That Ma was lovely and that they were glad to have the Das family join their community.

  The biggest surprise had been Ryan. As soon as Shivani scored some plates of food from Anita, Ryan had started eating. Shivani pretended to grab one of his poories, but he smacked her hand away. “Get your own,” he’d said, mouth full of food. “This is all mine.” He made sure to compliment Ma and Anita before heading back to his stall. Mel only said, “I told you so” before hurrying back too.

  Today, Shivani, Ma and Anita sat in the front row with Mel. Some people stopped to chat with Ma, and others smiled as they passed by.

  The members of the fundraising committee and the principal walked up onto the stage. The buzz died down.

  “It’s a beautiful evening, so I’ll keep this short,” said Mr. Travers. “We’ve had the best year ever. I’m pleased to announce that we’ve raised a total of $7,310.65, far more than we expected.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “Would you like to know which stall raised the most money?” asked Mr. Travers, smiling.

  “Yes!” the audience yelled out.

  Mr. Travers held up his hands, and the audience fell silent. “With a grand total of $1,997, the highest earning stall was…A Taste of India!”

  What? Are you serious? Shivani sat there in shock. Everyone else was clapping and hooting.

  “Would Anita Das and her mother please join me onstage?”

  The applause got even louder as Ma and Anita stood up and walked onto the stage. Shivani was surprised by how proud she felt of her mother. And even of her sister. Sure, she would have loved to have won, but this was so much better.

  Mr. Travers picked up an envelope and two school pins from the table. “That is the most money any food stall has raised since we started holding these fundraisers.” He paused while the whole place broke out in more applause. “Anita, Mrs. Das, please accept these tokens of our appreciation. The envelope contains two movie tickets to any show running at the local theater. Thanks to your efforts, we will be able to update our gym and equipment for next year and restock our library.”

  The applause was even louder this time than on the last round. Shivani clapped harder than anyone else. Her heart was ready to burst.

  “Your mom is a superstar,” said Mel. “Sorry. I didn’t like keeping it a secret from you.”

  Shivani glanced at Mel. “I should be mad at you, but I’m not. Had you asked me, I would never have agreed.”

  “I know!” said Mel.

  “Would you like to say a few words, Mrs. Das?” Mr. Travers asked.

  Shivani held her breath. It was one thing to chat with a couple of parents at a time. But giving a speech in front of the entire parent-teacher community? Would Ma be able to do it? She looked pale. Shivani felt for her.

  “On behalf of my mother—” Anita started to say, but Ma placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “No help,” said Ma.

  Ma stood in front of the microphone. She patted the beads of sweat on her forehead with the edge of her sari. Shivani imagined herself up there, staring out at the sea of faces. Her heart raced.

  “Thank you all,” said Ma in a shaky voice. “My English not so good, so please to excuse. We new to Canada, but we want to settle up. We want to help, and this perfect time. I proud of my culture, my tradition and my food. I think you all like it too, no?”

  More thundering applause. A chorus filled the room. “YES!”

  Ma beamed, and her voice grew stronger. “Only thing I say is, never be ashamed of who you be. Be proud, and others will join you.” She looked right at Shivani.

  Everyone onstage was nodding.

  Ma smiled and folded her hands in a namaste gesture. “Thank you for honoring Das family.”

  She got a standing ovation. As Ma and Anita made their way off the stage, Shivani watched them with a lump in her throat. The things she’d been hiding were what had endeared her family to their new community.

  “I’m so proud of you, Ma. You too, Anita,” said Shivani.

  “Thank you, beta,” said Ma, kissing Shivani’s forehead. “I do this for you both.”

  Mr. Travers strode up to them. “Hold on a second. I’m afraid there is one important thing that has been overlooked. As principal of this school it is my duty to remind you of something.”

  “Please to tell,” said Ma, looking worried.

  “You have forgotten to invite me over for dinner,” Mr. Travers said with a big smile.

  Ma laughed. Whew! thought Shivani.

  “Me too,” said Mel’s mother, joining their group. “My daughter can’t stop raving about your desserts. I can’t wait!”

  “You are welcome, always,” said Ma.

  This summer was going to be spectacular, thought Shivani. They really had settled up in Canada.

  She should have embraced the chicken a lot sooner.

  RECIPES

  BUTTER CHICKEN

  It would take a couple of days to make this dish from scratch the authentic way.

  But here’s a quick and easy version you can whip up on a school night.

  Serves 4

  Ingredients:

  2 tsp oil

  6 boneless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces

  1 tsp ginger-garlic paste

  ½ tsp garam masala powder

  ½ tsp dry fenugreek leaves

  1 jar of Patak’s Light Butter Chicken Cooking Sauce (15 oz)

  ¼ cup water

  ¼ cup heavy cream

  Salt to taste

  Directions:

  Heat oil in a nonstick pan on medium heat. Add chicken and fry until lightly browned.

  Add the ginger-garlic paste, garam masala powder and fenugreek leaves. Fry for a minute, until masala is aromatic. Do not let it burn.

  Add the cooking sauce to the chicken. Add ¼ cup water if the sauce is too thick. Mix well. Cover and simmer on low heat for 10 minutes, until chicken is thoroughly cooked. Stir regularly to avoid sticking or burning.

  Turn off heat. Add cream and mix well. Add salt to taste.

  Serve hot with naan or poories.

  CHANA MASALA

  Serves 4
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  Ingredients:

  4 tsp oil

  1 medium red onion, diced (1 cup)

  ½ tsp ginger paste

  4 Tbsp Punjabi Chana Masala (dry powder—available in the Asian food section)

  2 small tomatoes, diced (about 1 cup)

  ½ cup water

  2 cans (540 mL/19 oz) chickpeas, drained and rinsed

  1 tbsp ginger, chopped

  Handful cilantro leaves, finely chopped

  Salt to taste

  Directions:

  Heat oil in a nonstick pan on medium heat. Add diced onion and fry until lightly browned.

  Add ginger paste and fry for 1 minute.

  Add the dry chana masala powder, and fry until it starts smelling great. Put in a little more oil if you find the masala is sticking to bottom of pan. It should not burn.

  Add tomatoes, reduce heat, and simmer until mixture is a smooth paste. Stir frequently. Add water and mix well.

  Add chickpeas to the sauce. Lower heat and let simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Turn off the heat.

  Add chopped ginger and chopped cilantro, and mix well. Add salt to taste.

  Serve hot with naan, poories or basmati rice.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my family and friends, who have always been supportive, especially Rahul and Aftab. A shout-out to my critique partners, Deborah Kerbel, Frieda Wishinsky, Helaine Becker and Karen Krossing. A special thank-you to my fabulous and patient editor, Tanya Trafford. And a heartfelt thank-you to the entire team at Orca.

  Mahtab Narsimhan is the award-winning author of several books for young readers, including Mission Mumbai, The Tiffin and The Third Eye, which won the Silver Birch Award. Mahtab lives in Vancouver, British Columbia, with her husband, son and golden retriever. For more information, visit mahtabnarsimhan.com.

  Chapter One

  Even from my bed, I can tell it has snowed outside. All around is a soft silence.