Karma for Beginners Read Online Free PDF Page A

opens; all of a sudden, in one second, Jayita stops looking pale. This guy comes in, thirtyish, with a narrow face, kind eyes, and brown hair in tight curls. He’s got a red V-neck T-shirt and peach drawstring pants. He’s tall and skinny just like her; he looks like a yoga person, too.
    â€œHey,” he says, slinging an arm around Jayita’s waist. She beams at me like: isn’t that the most brilliant thing anyone ever said?
    â€œThis is Chakradev,” she says, unsticking from his side, going to clean up the sink. “Dev, we’re just getting Tessa finished up here.”
    â€œLice Check, huh?” Dev asks me.
    â€œYeah.”
    He nods, sympathetic to the experience of Lice Check.
    â€œSo you just got here today, huh? From where?” He asks like I’m a person, not a kid.
    â€œWell, we drove here from Akron.”
    He squints at me like he’s trying to see where Akron is.
    â€œIt’s in Ohio?” I tell him.
    â€œRight, right, Ohio,” he says. “That where you’re from?”
    I’m not sure how to answer that; I’m not really from anywhere. “Well, that’s the last place we lived.” That sounds dumb. “We’ve lived a lot of places.”
    A smile cracks over his skinny face. “Aaah. Travelers, huh?”
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œYeah. Me too.” Suddenly it’s like we’re in a secret club or something: the Association of Wandering Hippies. I don’t tell him it’s really my mom that’s the member.
    Jayita finishes with the bottles and jars and comes over, wiping her hands. “We’re heading out, okay?” she says to me. “Do you want anything?” I can’t exactly say Yes, I would like to go back to Akron with my mom, please; or failing that, I’d at least like you guys to stay here and talk to me. I just shake my head.
    While they’re gone I go through the cabinets to see if there is anything interesting, but there’s just Q-Tips. And paper towels, and more pictures of that bearded guy. I’m starting to get curious about who this guy is, but I have this feeling that nobody is going to give me a straight answer.
    . . . . .
    After a while there’s a knock on the door that sounds weirdly familiar, and then my mom comes in. She’s holding a tray of tofu and bean sprouts and carrot salad with tahini dressing, and then she gives me a little travel toothbrush and some Tom’s of Maine toothpaste. “Hey,” she says. “I hear you’re in Quarantine.”
    â€œApparently,” I say. “Ninyassa said I have to.”
    â€œSorry.” She frowns sympathetically. “But I guess they have to be careful about all the residents, you know. Lice can spread.”
    â€œYeah,” I say. “I don’t think I have lice.”
    â€œWell, it’s probably good to just make sure.”
    â€œRight.” I wish my mom took Jayita’s side and not Ninyassa’s, but I guess she’s too excited about learning all the rules.
    â€œListen,” she says. “Here’s a good meal, at least. And I’ll come back to get you in the morning. You’ll probably fall asleep pretty quick after you eat. Plus you’re almost outside in this trailer, so it’ll be easy to sleep with the dark and rise with the sun.”
    â€œOkay.” I also wish she wouldn’t use words like “rise.” It’s called “getting up.” “Thanks for the food.”
    â€œNo prob! Oh, Tess, tomorrow when you can walk around and see it here, you’re gonna be so excited. It’s so great.” And then she breezes out the door.
    . . . . .
    I try the radio for company. The DJ screams to CALL IN YOUR DEDICATIONS FOR THE TOP EIGHT AT EIGHT COUNTDOWN!!! His voice is obnoxious. He talks and talks, reading out the dedications, Jenny for Bill and Bob for Rachel, and I start feeling like the only person on this earth