Matthew was trapped. Inside his grandma’s bedroom.

He slammed the door with every ounce of his being. The bang reverberated through the house. The whole building shook. He felt it in his bones.

Matthew heard a clang on the other side of the door. With tears streaking down his face, he tried to turn the knob, but the door didn’t budge.

Fear set in. He heard heavy footsteps running toward the door. He was ready to hear the dreaded voice.

‘You knocked the doorknob off!’ yelled Nani (grandma) in Hindi.

He jumped onto the neatly quilted single bed and watched the knob on his side of the door rattle as she tried to get in.

‘I’m sorry, Nani!’ Matthew cried.

‘Just wait till I get in there, boy.’

She called for his Nana (grandpa).

The room was as small as a matchbox. There was no eluding her. Any second now it would open, and Nani would come in, wooden spoon in hand. 

Matthew looked around for any means of escape. Nani and Nana always kept the window locked, and it was nighttime anyway. Looking out to the darkened garden made his skin crawl. 

He glanced at the wardrobe—too small, and strategically a dangerous move.

The smell of tin fish curry filled the room as Matthew stood shaking on the bed. It had been a fun family evening at Nani and Nana’s house until the argument.

They were all scoffing down their food. Tin fish, daal, roti, tomato chutney—you name it.

Matthew had been playing Street Fighter with his older cousin Nathaniel. Matthew was Ryu and Nathaniel was Ken.

In Indian families, close cousins are called ‘cousin brothers’—and these two lived up to the name.

Matthew had been practicing throughout the holidays, poised to beat Nathaniel—but not today.

A loud Hadouken came from the speakers as Ken beat Ryu.

Matthew threw down the controller, stormed off to the spare bedroom—and you know the rest. No one could have imagined that he could have taken off the doorknob.

The doorknob was rattling more now—Nana had almost fixed it.

‘I’m coming for you, boy,’ Nani whispered.

This was it. In a minute, that spoon would be turning his bum raw.

Matthew hoped Nathaniel was on the other side.

‘N-Nathaniel, I’m s-scared!’ he called out.

‘I’m s-scared, too!’ Nathaniel called back. The words came out strangled. He had been crying as well.

‘Sorry for being a sore loser.’

Then Matthew heard the click of the lock. 

Nani ran in, holding her wooden spoon high.

Matthew leaped off the bed, and with a move he’d copied and practiced from The Matrix, limboed backward. The spoon swiped just above his nose—then he was gone, sprinting down the hallway to freedom.

Nani tried to chase him, but she couldn’t keep up with the giggling boy. He was too quick. After a few laps around the house, she had given up. By the time he tiptoed back into the living room, the whole family was laughing—the dinner and the argument had already been forgotten.

But the story of the broken doorknob—now that would live on forever.