Red Leaves

by Sita Brahmachari

‘Eyes closed,’ Iona insisted, dancing around as she sat them down on one of the benches.

  ‘Open sesame!’

  The walls of one whole side of the shelter had been covered in chalk drawings. Zak looked over to the door where the names of the wartime family had been left just as they were, except that Iona had drawn a suitcase around them as if the old names were about to take off on a new journey. There were pictures of Iona greeting Red, and Aisha in her blue scarf singing around the camp fire with Zak sitting next to her, and in the middle of them was Elder holding Crystal in her arms, surrounded by poppies and birds, conducting them all. The whole concrete wall had been transformed into a surreal impression, the chalk colours smudging into each other, but every scene that Iona had drawn was recognizable.

  ‘You are very talented,’ whispered Aisha.

  Zak just stared and shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’

  Iona leaned against the bench opposite and grinned from ear to ear. Aisha smiled back, recognizing in Iona’s face the joy she felt in her art. Aisha knew that feeling well; for her, she found that release in singing.

  They sat around the fire all afternoon, keeping it burning, chatting easily to one another, singing songs – the girls laughing at Zak’s gruff voice, and fussing over Red. Iona seemed to enjoy playing the host, offering around biscuits and heating the pot. Zak thought the hot, sweet tea might be the most delicious drink he had ever tasted as they shared the cup, passing it around the glowing fire.

  Red was the first to sense a change as night fell. She sniffed the air suspiciously, whined and skulked into the far corner of the shelter. Boom, boom, boom, came the hollow sound above their heads. They ran outside to see the sky blasted by fountains of light, splashing rainbow colours across the night and cascading back down to earth. There were the deep hollow rumbles, and then the sprinkling showers raining down on them in white, blue and pink light. Zak and Aisha were transfixed as they stood in the middle of the wood, holding their breath. Iona studied their expressions. She had always loved to see people’s faces transformed by fireworks, to watch all their worries ebb away. Even the oldest most cynical face relaxed into a child-like glow of wonder before these displays. Red whined and shivered again. Iona felt the animal’s fear and stepped back inside to hold her dog close. She loved fireworks more than anything, but had never been able to enjoy them since Red had been given to her, because every year at the first sound of fireworks the dog’s whole body trembled in fear and all Iona could think of was protecting her and making her feel safe. That’s what you should do if you love something, someone – not put yourself first. She would never understand why her mum hadn’t fought her corner against the Ogre.

  Iona wound up the torch that Elder had brought them, scanned the light around the walls and found herself settling on the names of the children who had come here for protection in wartime all those years ago.

  Boom, boom, boom, went the fireworks.

  What must it have felt like having to huddle inside this concrete shelter with bombs falling all around you, not knowing whether you would ever be able to get back out? Whether your home would be a pile of rubble when you returned? What would I find, Iona asked herself, if I ever took myself back to the island to see what’s happened to my home?

  The fireworks quietened and Red lifted her head. Aisha joined the two of them in the shelter and sat down next to the dog. Then after a pause the blasts started up again.

  ‘Your turn!’ Aisha said, pushing Iona outside.

  ‘Happy Diwali!’ Zak greeted her, as the sky exploded in a symphony of colour above their heads. Every year, for as long as he could remember, he had watched what Shalini called her ‘Diwali sky’. She always insisted on them going together, and every year she cried. Now, feeling so far away from the people he loved, Zak felt as if he knew why Shalini was always so full of emotion on this night, thinking of her son who shared the same vast sky but was a whole world away in Sri Lanka.

  Iona held her breath, felt for her mum’s cross, wrapped her arms around herself and swayed as her spirit briefly soared. When the last spark of light petered out of the sky, her body seemed to collapse inwards and she started to sob. Without thinking, Zak placed his arms around her shoulders and held her close. The emotion rose up in her, growing stronger and wracking her body.

  Red appeared at the entrance to the shelter cowering low and still shaking with fear. Aisha followed her out. The dog went over and burrowed her head in Iona’s side.

  ‘I can’t live like this anymore,’ Iona held out a hand to comfort Red.

  Aisha placed her arm around her too and the four of them huddled together around the embers of the fire.

  Elder watched from between the trees, smiling at the warm glow from the bright little constellation of unlikely earthstars that shone before her, lighting up her wood.

  The fire died to nothing but ashes halfway through the night. They were wearing every piece of clothing that they could find now, sharing them out, not caring who the items belonged to: gloves, hats, layers of socks, jumpers and coats. The two girls had taken the old bunk beds and Zak was resting on one of the benches. They did not speak but closed their eyes, each lost in thoughts of their own struggles. Sleep did not come easily to anyone that night. For each, the fireworks had ignited a longing for warmth and light.

  ‘Zak! Zak! Zak! You can’t go back till you’ve done that job!’

  Sitting opposite him was an old man who looked vaguely familiar.

  ‘Albert!’ Zak whispered.

  ‘Come off it! I’m not as old as all that! Albert was my grandpops! I’m Eddie.’ The old man pointed to the child’s name on the wall. ‘That was me once upon a time! Thought I’d have a last look around the old haunts before I go!’

  ‘Go where?’ Zak asked.

  ‘I don’t know – where do we go? Knocking on heaven’s door, underground, you tell me.’

  Zak shrugged.

  ‘See you’ve spruced the place up a bit though! I like the artwork.’ Eddie nodded towards Iona’s chalk drawings appreciatively.

  Zak pointed at Iona on the top bunk. ‘It’s hers.’

  ‘I used to sleep up there, until the night the bombs came down so hard I wet myself! Poor Maisy and Mummy on the bottom! Grandpops slept where you’re sat, and sometimes I’d cuddle up with him. He never could sleep on his own after Nana died. Such a kind old man, always so sad about my Uncle Edwin and the others dying so young. It felt like whenever he said my name he thought of his son.’

  Zak walked over to his bag and took out the game of jacks.

  ‘Were these yours?’ he asked the man.

  Eddie clapped his hands on his knees. ‘Hah! A last game of jacks!’ He threw the ball up and attempted to gather all the pieces but ended up missing the ball.

  ‘Bother. I used to be good at that game.’ He turned his hands over and inspected them. ‘See? Riddled with arthritis, veins sticking up everywhere. You need nice supple hands for jacks.’

  The man patted Zak on the back.

  ‘You can be the keeper of the jacks, if you want! Your turn now!’

  Zak threw the ball in the air, scooped up all the jacks and caught the ball effortlessly.

  ‘See!’ The old man laughed and clapped him on the back. He took a red poppy he was wearing on his lapel and shakily pinned it on to Zak.

  ‘You’ll make sure they remember us all, won’t you, son?’ He winked at Zak.

  Zak’s head swirled as he attempted to join up all the information in his mind. For whatever reason, he had got himself caught up with this name from the plasterwork and the people had taken hold of him and would not let him go. It was as if they needed him as much as he needed them. What did it matter if Aisha didn’t believe him? He had to do this for Edwin, for himself and for his mum, and afterwards he would go back home to see if Edwin had kept his promise. Maybe they could walk out of the wood together, he and Aisha. After her dream he sensed that she was ready to leave too. Zak imagine
d the scene of the two of them, carrying rucksacks, passing the redbrick houses with their neat tiled porches as they walked along Linden Road together towards number 22a and then number 48. Aisha would reach home first.

  He glanced over at Iona in the top bunk and felt truly sorry for her. She was right to be bitter. What would happen to her now? He thought of Elder and how she had struggled through the wood to bring them food because she was lonely and wanted to keep them there. But maybe there was more to it than that. Perhaps she held the answers to other questions too?

  At the first sign of light Zak climbed out of his sleeping bag as quietly as he could. His whole body shivered with the biting cold but he had no more clothes to wear. He pulled on his boots and stepped outside.

  ‘You want to come with me, Red?’ he whispered. ‘Come on then, girl!’ Red climbed to the top of the slope and sat looking down at the shelter as if unsure whether she should accompany him.

  ‘Best stay here then!’ Zak patted the dog on the head and she trotted back towards the shelter.

  The smell of yesterday’s spent fireworks filled the air as Zak set off in search of the memorial. The earth scrunched under his feet. This was the first hard frost.

  Aisha heard Zak leave with Red and listened to Iona’s faint sleep-sniffle. She thought about getting up and going with them, but she felt as if Zak needed to sort out whatever was troubling him on his own. Even through the thick sleeping bag she could not keep warm. Last night, standing watching the fireworks with Zak, she had felt completely happy for a moment. Seeing the sky light up had made her forget everything: where she had come from, where she now stood, what the future held . . . but now the world came spiralling back to her and Liliana’s face filled her mind. Surely she’ll understand now how much I love her. Aisha listened to Iona’s breathing change as she shifted in her sleep. Today I will try to build Iona’s trust and be her friend. When Iona had been full of spite it had been hard to care for her, but now Aisha found herself thinking as much about Iona as about Zak or even herself. What will Iona do when Zak and I go home? Who will care for her?

  Aisha dozed for a while as a dust stream of sunshine pooled in the entrance of the shelter. She opened her eyes at last, feeling she needed to wash, to cleanse herself despite the cold. She rummaged in her bag for her toothbrush and toothpaste and the soap and the fresh towel that Elder had brought, then grabbed the tepee and the blanket off her bed that until now had doubled as a towel, and headed out to be dazzled by the brightness of the morning sun. The ground, the trees, the leaves were all coated in a silvery white frost that glistened making the earth feel fresh and new. Even in her trainers and double layer of socks Aisha’s feet felt like ice blocks. She looked down at her watch and could not believe that it was already ten o’clock. Only a few days ago she had been waking at dawn. She wondered what time Zak had left. It had felt early.

  A flock of woodland birds had gathered around the stream so at first she didn’t see Elder crouching over the water washing her hands and face and dunking her hair. If it wasn’t for the distinctive colour Aisha might not have recognized the shivering woman who had stripped down to an old-fashioned silky slip, her tiny body all jutting bones and hanging skin. Without her layers of petticoats and clothes, Elder was no bigger than a child. Aisha brought her hand to her mouth in shock to see someone so old and frail living outside at the mercy of the elements. Elder’s whole body shook as she washed her doll, supporting its head as you would a new-born baby’s.

  ‘Clean as crystal, crystal-clean water,’ she murmured, surveying the powder-blue sky. ‘Crystal-clear day!’

  Aisha looked up too at the single white sweep of an aeroplane track, as if the sky had been painted by an enormous white feather. She felt an urge to call out to Elder, but something stopped her. It was as if the woman was in her own world with an unwritten ‘Do not disturb’ sign surrounding her. At last Elder lifted her head. She seemed to look straight through Aisha, and yet she felt, as before, that the old woman knew that she was there.

  ‘Time to cleanse away the sadness, time to let our loved ones go,’ Elder was saying, as she wrapped the doll in a towel.

  Are those words meant for me?

  ‘I thought you’d all upped sticks and left me again,’ Iona said, as she climbed up and over the shelter. Aisha turned, placed her fingertips on her lips and signalled towards Elder. Iona tiptoed over to Aisha’s side and they watched together as Elder dried her skeletal arms. She bent down to pick something up and tumbled forward. Iona grabbed the clean towel out of Aisha’s arms, and hurried over to where Elder lay prone on the bank.

  Elder nodded at Iona as she placed the towel over her shoulders. Then instinctively Iona took her feet in her hands as she’d seen Mrs Kalsi do so many times before. She dried between what looked more like knobbly twigs than toes, dabbing softly, half afraid that she would break them. Elder let her head drop back as if just this gentle human touch was comforting to her. The old woman was silent now and Aisha thought how peaceful she seemed without her incessant chanting. Aisha stepped forward to help but Iona shook her head, as if she wanted to care for Elder herself. When she was dry, Elder pointed over to her clothes. Aisha passed them to Iona and the older girl began to dress her, helping her on with layer after layer of odd assortments of cardigans, blouses, T-shirts, petticoats, skirts and tights . . . She realized as she piled on the mould-scented garments that it was not Elder who smelt so pungent but the clothes she wore. The old woman washed them, but was never able to dry them out properly, her clothes smelt exactly like the scratchy blanket they had used as a towel. Iona was aware that she had begun to smell that mouldy damp scent on all of their clothes. Finally, she helped Elder on with her shiny new wellies and eased her to standing. Elder shook her shoulders as if she herself was checking to see that everything was intact and then, without a word to either girl she turned and walked away.

  Iona sat on the banks of the stream, shoulders hunched and legs splayed unceremoniously before her. As Aisha drew close she noticed that her cheeks were streaked with tears again. Aisha knelt down by her side.

  ‘I can’t end up like her,’ Iona wailed. ‘That can’t be me.’

  Aisha was lost for words as Iona looked up at her for the first time with unguarded eyes. Instinctively she did what Liliana had done whenever she’d felt unutterably sad. She took Iona’s head and lay it on her shoulder.

  Iona pulled away. ‘Don’t be so nice to me, or I’ll never stop crying!’ She attempted to laugh through her tears. ‘Where’s Red anyway?’ She peered around for her. Red was normally the first to come to her side when she was upset.

  ‘Went out with Zak. I heard them go off together this morning.’

  ‘Is he still going on about that war stuff?’

  Aisha nodded.

  ‘Well, I suppose we’ve all got to do what we’ve got to do. I’m telling you, I have to pull myself out of this state.’ Iona peered into the wood as if looking for Elder, but there was no sign of her now. ‘You know, she told me that her baby was taken away from her, and she never got over it. I keep thinking how sad it is that somewhere out there in the city there might be a woman called Crystal, who doesn’t even know how much she’s still loved by her mum. Tragic, isn’t it? She’s holding on to that baby they took off her so long ago, while my mum can’t even be bothered to look for me!’

  Aisha nodded slowly. She of all people understood what it meant for this girl to put her trust in her enough to speak of such things. Her own eyes glazed over as a huge wave of compassion for Iona rose up in her. She would have liked to reach out and give her a proper Liliana hug, but she sensed that Iona would push her away.

  Instead Aisha took the blanket, walked over to the tepee and swiftly took off her coat, her oversized jumper and jeans and stepped inside.

  Iona stared after her. She had not expected Aisha to be so unselfconscious. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Washing, cleansing!’ Aisha called back, carefully unclasping her prayer bea
ds. Then she untied her hijab, reaching her arm out of the tepee and hanging her scarf and beads on a stick next to the blanket. She gasped as she stepped into the icy water and her skin prickled with the cold. Her scalp felt tight and tingling. But as she washed, the smell of the rose soap Elder had brought entered her nostrils along with a memory of herself burrowing her nose in her Aunt Lalu’s hair. Aisha breathed in the rich rose oil and began to sing. Had Elder known that this was just the scent that would take her home? Now she dunked her head under the water. Immediately her skull shrank with cold and she began to shiver and grabbed hold of the blanket.

  ‘Would you mind lifting this up on to the ground so that I can get dressed?’ Aisha called to Iona.

  She moved the tepee on to the bank and Aisha shuffled over too and began to dress.

  ‘You’ve got this all sorted. Mind if I copy you?’ Iona asked. ‘I could do with a wash!’

  Aisha emerged still shivering as she dried a thick mane of wavy hair that reached down her back. Iona tried not to stare.

  ‘Help yourself!’ Aisha handed Iona the blanket.

  ‘Keep it. I’ve got this!’ Iona smiled holding on to the towel that she’d dried Elder with. ‘You get undressed in there and I’ll shift it over for you when you’re done.’

  ‘You shouldn’t hide your hair like that!’ Iona said as she stepped inside the tepee to get undressed. ‘Why do you cover it anyway?’

  It was a question Aisha had been asked many times.

  She remembered the day she had covered her hair for the first time. Feeling the scarf hold her securely under the chin. She’d looked at herself in the mirror and realized how much she looked like the pictures her aunt Lalu and abo had shown her of her mother as a girl. Just as she was about to attempt to answer, Iona screeched so loudly that Aisha thought she must have hurt herself.

  ‘It’s freezing in here!’ An ice-cold spray splashed through the parting in the tepee screen as Iona washed her face.