C H A P T E R 17

COCHIN HARBOR TERMINUS

In his clean room in the dirty Ayemenem House, Estha (not old, not

young) sat on his bed in the dark. He sat very straight. Shoulders

squared. Hands in his lap. As though he was next in line for some

sort of inspection. Or waiting to be arrested.

The ironing was done. It sat in a neat pile on the ironing board.

He had done Rahel’s clothes as well.