Roar

1

Arya was on the hunt.

Her soft paws treaded silently, like a ghost, in the North Indian jungle she called home.

Arya’s mother had taught her well. She knew every network of paths her ancestors had used to crisscross the forest.

Crow woke up the minute he spotted Arya on the move. He flapped his dark wings and dove down from the peepal tree to follow his friend.

“Where you off to, Queen?” Crow asked.

The peepals, the palms, the banyans, the neems, and the flame trees of the forest watched as Arya paced. “I need to find the safest place in the forest.”

“The safest place?” Crow asked. “Is there such a thing?”

Arya passed by the abandoned palace built by the maharajas of the past. Their crumbling stone walls wouldn’t hide Arya from her worst enemy, the two-legged human.

“Crow, are the grasses getting thick enough to be a good shield?” she asked.

Crow spun his head and looked around at the tall grasses that sprang from the ground and camouflaged Arya as she stalked. “They should hide you, Queen.”

“Crow, maybe a cave would be safer,” said Arya.

“Perhaps,” Crow said. “There’s one on the path to the lake.”

Light was creeping through the dark, and the rising sun was beginning to paint the sky pink, when Arya spied a thicket of trees that formed a protective circle where the sun barely penetrated. Perfect for Arya.

“Arya,” said Crow, “this isn’t a cave, but it might work.”

“Maybe,” said Arya.

“Does Good Human know?” asked Crow. Arya had been carrying cubs for almost three months and recently started to bulge.

“I’ll let him see me today,” she said. Arya had known him since she was a baby. He was a human that her mother had trusted, and she trusted him too.

She waited for the fog to rise. She waited for the rattle of Good Human’s car. Soon enough he came and parked near his favorite rock, with his morning chai in a flask, a frayed blanket around his shoulders. His silver hair shone like a lion’s mane.

“Oh, namaste, Arya!” he said when Arya emerged. “No one’s seen you for days. You’ve been hiding.”

Arya leapt over to her favorite space: a stone structure with a canopy, like a large umbrella built of concrete. Centuries ago, a human queen and her ladies might have taken shelter from the rain or the sun. Or the king might have stopped there to eat his afternoon meal while on a hunt for one of Arya’s ancestors.

When Arya leapt, the human’s keen eyes noticed her belly bulge.

“Wah! Wah!” he said, finishing his chai and bowing to Arya.

Crow, who was perched on a nearby tree, approved of his bow. She was the queen, after all.

Good Human packed his things and, with a smile, waved at Arya as he started his vehicle. “Well done, Arya. When I tell my wife, she will be so thrilled that she’ll dance and make us ladoos.”

After Good Human was gone, Arya stretched and let the rising sun soak into her striped fur. Her hunt for a place to birth her cubs wasn’t over yet, but she would rest here today and prowl some more in the shadows of the night.

Crow tucked his head in his neck and rested too, perched above in the fronds of the flame tree.

2

On a warm October day in Texas, Rohan and Jake cruised to school on their bikes.

“Why’d you move schools, anyway?” asked Jake.

“Dad got laid off,” said Ro. “The tech world is topsy-turvy, he said.”

“Sorry, Ro. That’s awful. My mom works in tech too and says her new boss is so unpredictable.”

“Thankfully, Mom still has her law practice, but we also have the twins.”

“What’s up with Thing 1 and Thing 2?” asked Jake, skirting around a bump in the sidewalk.

“Thing 1 has the strongest baby arm ever,” said Ro, laughing. “Yesterday she pitched her carrots straight at my cheek. Flawless throw!”

“How about Thing 2?”

“He cracks up at his sister like she’s a stand-up comedian. He’s the best audience.”

“Born entertainers,” said Jake.

“Yup, they smell disgusting, scream loud, and have one hundred percent invaded my habitat,” said Ro, “but I gotta say, they can be pretty cute. I guess I had a long run as the only kid.”

When they arrived at school, Rohan rushed down the hall to read the list of extracurricular clubs being offered. His eyes scanned the list: coding, photography, all the various sports, biology club, debate club, Spanish club, STEM club, student government, theater, academic clubs, chess club, cooking club, LEGO league.

Rohan’s shoulders drooped.

At dinner the night before, Mom had said, “I can’t believe the first semester’s half over.”

“Are you making friends?” said Dad.

Rohan didn’t respond. He didn’t need a lot of friends. He had Jake, who he’d known since they were both in diapers. Jake understood Ro, and Ro didn’t think Jake’s funny sayings, like “fried fish fingers,” were weird. It was just Jake. Ro also had his doodling. He was happy people-watching—it was so much more fun than talking to them.

Taking his silence as a no, Mom had said, “I made friends through being in school plays.”

Ro could imagine Mom being in school theater productions—she could be pretty dramatic.

Dad nodded. “I found my buddies on the baseball team. Check out the clubs, Ro.”

So now Rohan was half-heartedly signing up for photography—for his parents’ sake—when Jake came and looked over his shoulder. “You wanted a wildlife club.”

“Yup, I did.”

“Maybe you could start one,” Jake suggested.

“Nah. Starting a club isn’t me. I’m not that guy.”

“But you totally could be that guy,” said Jake. “You know more about tigers than anyone I know. And you care so much about animals.”

“I do care,” said Ro.

But what he didn’t tell Jake was that he had tried to start a wildlife club at his other school, but only one kid had signed up. Ro remembered sitting at his sign-up table and watching kids walk past.

The cooking club table had been next to him, and everyone went there. The boy who started the club was the nephew of a local TV chef, and he promised that his uncle would come and cook with them. He was also giving out free brownies.

Ro and his tigers didn’t stand a chance.

3

“Good morning, family!” said G-ma. Her glasses glinted.

Rohan always thought it was funny to hear this greeting on Saturday night. With the time difference, Saturday evening in Houston meant it was already Sunday morning in India. When he was little, he could never quite wrap his head around the time continuum, but now he could easily calculate the time in India without the help of an app.

“We’re having a great weekend. The highlight was beating G-pa at Scrabble,” said G-ma, rubbing her hands together like a villain. G-ma acted just like Mom when she bought all the properties while playing Monopoly and collected a mountain of rent.

“My weekend has been extra special,” G-pa said. “I saw Arya at dawn, and she’s going to have cubs!”

“What?!” screamed Ro. “Wow! You’re so lucky.”

“That’s great news!” said Rohan’s mom.

“Yes. And I’m praying that this time her cubs survive,” said G-ma.

“Me too, G-ma. Me too.”

Rohan knew that a large percentage of tiger cubs don’t survive beyond two years in the wild. His grandfather had told him that though it might not feel fair, it was nature’s way.

Ro pelted questions at G-pa. “Will you see them right after they’re born? Will you see the birth?”

“The birth will be in the wild wherever Arya chooses,” said G-pa. “And I’ll see the cubs when Arya shares them with me.”

A baby who’d woken up wailed through the monitor on the kitchen counter.

“That’s T1,” said Rohan. “T2 will join in any moment.” Another baby cried, per Ro’s prediction, and he grinned. “I told you so!”

“T1 and T2!” G-pa said, and his belly laugh lit up his face.

“You like the names?” asked Rohan.

“I love them. We number our tigers too,” said G-pa.

Mom returned with a flushed baby in each arm, and the grandparents cooed.

Then G-pa said, “Rohan, I have an idea. Perhaps you could see Arya’s cubs for yourself. Don’t you have a winter break in December? We’d love if you could come visit us. Your cousin Mira is coming.”

Rohan leapt off his stool. “For real?”

But Mom wasn’t as excited. “Hmm,” she said. “I don’t know. How would that work? Would he go on his own? An unaccompanied minor?”

“Alone?” said Rohan. He’d assumed that the whole family would visit, but then realized his parents probably thought the twins were too young to make the long trip. Still, the excitement of seeing Arya’s cubs made Rohan want to pack his bags and race to the airport, so he declared, “I think I’m old enough.”

But Mom didn’t seem convinced. “You’ve given us something to think about,” she said.

- - - - -

At dinner on Sunday, Rohan was pumped to tell his parents all the reasons he should go. Mom always said you had to convince people.

“I’ve been thinking all day, and I’m ready to present my case,” he announced. “I may be eleven, but age is just a number. Did you know Malala was just eleven when she started fighting for girls’ education?”

His parents looked surprised. “Didn’t know that,” said Dad.

“But you do know how important it is to have a relationship with my grandparents and my cousin. I haven’t seen them in six years. Plus, Mira is eleven too, and her parents are letting her visit.”

“Mira lives in Bengaluru, a three-hour flight away,” Mom pointed out.

“True. But this is an amazing opportunity for me to learn more about the sanctuary—and see Arya and her babies.”

Upon hearing the wordbabies, Thing 1 took it as her cue to pitch her pureed carrots at Ro. Her aim was perfect! Again.

Thing 2 cracked up at his sister and lifted his spoonful.

Mom leapt up to stop him from another throw but caught most of the veggies smack-dab on her forehead as the twins’ spoons splatted onto the floor.

Mom stood in shock for a moment, but then the whole family broke into laughter before cleaning up the mess.

So much for making his case. Court was adjourned for the day by Thing 1 and Thing 2.