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.