When Impossible Happens by Jane De Suza

Author:Jane De Suza [De Suza, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2023-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

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The next morning, a bleary-eyed Swara walked into the dining room, clutching her orange knitted doll. A Saturday meant no class. She wondered how detectives managed to stay up all night, sneaking around in dark alleys, without falling asleep into their breakfast bowls the next day.

She was late, and her bowl of rice porridge was left on the table, covered with a plate. She winked at Pitter Paati up on the wall and settled herself down to the task of eating. Cold, lumpy porridge was usually reason to chew exaggeratedly with a face as thunderous as she could muster, but not during the lockdown, when no Akka came over to cook. Amma had to manage most of it, so Appa made it clear that any food was good food. He tried helping out in the kitchen, but his cooking was even worse. Rishi was the most promising chef among them all, but he had spent the lockdown with a do not disturb poster glued to his door.

Breakfast done, she carried her empty bowl to the kitchen, where she found Amma-Appa—Amma wiping down packages and Appa putting them away. Oh, groceries bought already? This meant (to a V. Exceptional detective like Little Miss Marble) two things:

One, that they had enough money to buy groceries. They would eat! Phew! She had been really worried that they were really worried about that.

Two, that they would not be leaving home and going to Madurai that week. They were staying for a while, at least. Phew again!

From the other direction, an arm movement caught her eye. Out on the balcony, Rishi was on his knees, bent over a potted plant. Rishi gardening? Humph! The puppy was also digging in the mud, squealing with glee.

Swara had to investigate. She strolled out. “What are you doing?”

Rishi kept his head lowered and kept digging a hole in the mud in the pot. Beside him lay clippers, a trowel, gloves, a watering can, and a plant with its roots tied up in a packet. He was scowling. The puppy wasn’t as surly and seemed delighted to see her.

“What are you doing? Are you looking for clues too?” Swara asked louder.

“Go away, Swara! Don’t poke your nose into other people’s business.”

That, of course, was an invitation, like any sibling knows, to poke her nose in further. Well, if the puppy could literally poke a nose into the mud, why not her?

“You NEVER do anything with the plants. Tell me what you’re doing now.”

“I’m burying treasure. Happy?”

Of course, that was not what he was doing. He was making fun of her, like she didn’t know that. Fool Rishi!

She picked up the plant in its packet. “What’s this?”

To her shock, Rishi swatted her hand. He snapped, “Get out of here! Give me that.”

Swara’s lip began to tremble, and Rishi stopped digging. He covered his face with his muddy hands. They stayed frozen like that for almost an entire minute. Then he said, “Boondi, this is a karuvepillai plant. Curry leaf.

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