“Where’s dad?” Avi asked when his mother returned without him.
“Bhoora was getting into the sweet drip patch; he went to shoo him out,” His mother said. She took Galiun from Avi's arms and cradled him softly.
“Is everything ok, Honey?” his mother asked, dividing her attention between the new baby and her teenage son.
“Yeah, I just need to talk to dad about something.”
“It wouldn’t have something to do with the Patel girl, would it?” she asked.
“Well—”
“You know, your father and I married at your age.”
“I know, Ma. He’s been hinting around about it since I was thirteen.”
“Hey, there’s my boy,” came the voice of his father. “That bear! I tell you what. He got to trampling our best gum squash blooms. I had to give him a scolding. Avi, you may want to check on him in a while. His feelings might have been a little hurt.”
“Ok, Dad.”
“Well—”
“What?” Avi asked.
“You said you wanted to talk with me,” his dad said.
“Yeah, but, uh—" Instead of launching, Avi looked at his mother, who was standing close, still listening in.
“Oh, right. Man to man. Ok. Let’s uh—” his father said as he looked toward the forested tree line. “Want to walk the perimeter with me, and we could talk?”
“Sure.”
Avi followed his father toward the edge of their small farm. They wove along the dividing line between the crops they had planted a week earlier. Things grew so fast that by the time everything was planted, it was already time to harvest. Even the smallest farm in the region, which probably was Lanis Shakir's place, could feed a family of fifty.
“Probably have to harvest after Sabath, don’t you think?” Avi asked.
“Looks like it.”
"We could try planting some drallow; I heard that there's a new hybrid seed that grows really sweet,”
“That’s not a bad idea,” his dad said. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? Planting drallow stalks?”
“No,” he admitted.
“I wanted to talk about—” Avi tried but got shy.
“I know, Son.”
“So, you have thought about it overnight. Do you think you could arrange it?”
“An arranged marriage can be a great honor to the King, just like anything we do. But,” his father bent down to pick up a rock. Avi felt the pause, heavy with jagged edges.
“But what?”
“But I’ve been talking to your Uncle Rachit…”
“Oh, no!”
“Well, he knows you better than most. Half the time, I think you two have a couple of dozen secrets you share.”
“Rachit can't keep a secret,” Avi said. The notion was frightening, considering what Rachit knew about him and what he was duty-bound to keep quiet.
“Yeah, that's true. He can't keep a secret,” his dad said. “That's one of the reasons I talk to him about you.” Avi balled his fingers into a fist and hid it behind his back. They continued walking between the trunks of giant oak trees. Their sweet acorns lay all over the ground: Critters of all kinds scampered, gathered, and munched. Avi's father knelt and picked up a handful. He used the rock to crack them.
“Want one?” he offered. Avi refused. He didn’t feel like eating anything at the moment.
“If you can’t arrange it, then I’ll probably end up a terminal bachelor, and I’ll never have kids, and my entire life will be just me and—”
“Well, you’ll always have Bhoora,” his dad said.
“Not funny,” Avi said, though he couldn’t help smiling a little as he thought of himself and the giant bear living alone together. He turned his head away to let the smile die.
“You’re afraid of never getting married?”
“Well…” Avi paused. “Yeah. Everyone else can talk to girls, no problem, and they'll all get married and have kids, and I'll be stuck with that old fur rug, Bhoora, as life leaves me behind, and—" Deep breath. “I just can't do it. I need help.”
“I’ve decided to help,” his dad said.
“Really?” Avi could have leaped to the top of an acorn tree with excitement. He unclenched his fist and reached out for a sweet acorn.
“I’ll try to arrange the marriage, if—”
"Oh, great,” Avi said as he chewed.
“If you’ll do something for me.”
“What?”
“Before I’ll try to arrange it, I want you to get out for a little while,” his dad said.
“You’re starting to sound like Uncle Rachit.”
“I’d like you to make pilgrimage.”
“Oh, no!” Avi protested. “You sound exactly like Uncle Rachit. He got to you. He—he—”
“Avi, it would do you good.”
“I can't believe this,” Avi said, walking in a circle, dropping the rest of the cracked acorns. They crunched under his precisely tied shoes. “I can't do a pilgrimage.”
“Why?” his dad asked.
“There's just too much to do around the—" he stopped, realizing it wasn't true. He turned and took a new tact. “Her dad wants her to marry one of the Bakshi boys. Do you know how tall they are? They are all confident. Any of them would be happy to—to—If I go on pilgrimage, by the time I get back, she might be married. We won't get a chance to arrange it.”
“Son, I’m hoping that if you go on a pilgrimage, we won’t have to arrange it.”
“What?” he asked. “Why not?”
“A boy that can leave home and travel the world can ask a girl from home out on a date.”
“Wait, you said you’d arrange it if I went.”
“I will if that's still what you want when you get back,” his dad said.
“Well, of course, it's what I'll want. It's what I've wanted since I was eleven.”
“Really,” his dad said. “I didn’t know you have liked her so long.”
“I—I—love her,” he said. The words felt like a brick that knocked against his teeth as they came out. “I just can’t stand to be alone all my life.”
“Those are two different things,” his dad said.
“What are?”
“Do you love her, or do you love the idea of not being alone?”
“I—I don’t know—” Avi said. “You’re making me confused. I love her.”
“Avi, I love you, and I want to help you. This is my offer. If you love her, then ask her out. If you can't, then make pilgrimage and I'll arrange it when you get back. If you're afraid, she'll marry someone else, then let that motivate you.”
“That’s not exactly what I wanted,” Avi said.
“I know, Son,” he said. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I love you too much to do that.”
