I helped chop up the onion and the fresh coriander for the egg curry. Little Bibi was waiting for her breakfast. “No money for food, but plenty to spend on kites!” Amma grumbled. “Bala collected a pile of coins at the end of the match,” I told her. “How so?” Amma’s fingers were now coaxing Little Bibi’s roti to puff up like a golden balloon on the smoking griddle. “He got other people to wager real money just like a bookie. He talked a good talk so the people who won didn’t win a lot and the people who lost, lost big—enough to give him some to keep for himself. Pretty smart, nai?” “Tcha!” spat Amma. “My pocket would be bulging with coins too if I had wagered real money,” I said. “Nonsense!” she snapped. “Careful what you say, little miss!” I quickly brought the subject back to Bala. “He’s going to be making some good investments with his money.” “Such as?” “He didn’t say exactly.” “That Bala,” Amma mumbled as she stirred the pot.
