Bhuvana hurried toward the auto-rickshaw stand. A gust sent Ahmed Khan’s fare notebook skittering under the tea stall. “Catch it!” called Ahmed Khan.
Bhuvana crawled beneath the tea stall and reached for the notebook. Scooters honked while tea glasses clinked above her.
Bhuvana handed back the dusty notebook. Ahmed Khan pointed at the auto-rickshaw’s loose wheel. “Can you hold it?” he asked.
Bhuvana held the wheel steady while Ahmed Khan tightened it. Ping-ping! A tiny bolt bounced across the pavement.
They searched beneath the auto-rickshaw, behind the tea stall, and inside a basket stack. Suddenly, three lemons rolled out. One bumped Ahmed Khan’s shoe, and Bhuvana laughed.
Bhuvana spotted the missing bolt shining near the basket. Ahmed Khan reached for it. “There!” she cried.
A bus roared past, blasting the bolt toward the drain. Bhuvana grabbed Ahmed Khan’s scarf, and he caught her hand.
Together, they stopped the bolt with a tin cup. It clinked safely against the metal rim.
Ahmed Khan fixed the wheel and tested it with a careful turn. Then he opened the passenger door. “Your first ride,” he said.
Bhuvana climbed in beside Ahmed Khan. The auto-rickshaw rattled down the lively street as he taught her a cheerful horn tune.