Jehan and the Quest of the Lost Dog

by Rosanne Hawke

  Kelsey’s eyes grew wide. They were blue. Jehan couldn’t take his gaze away even though he knew it was impolite to stare. He touched the ribbon. Now was the time to give it back, but he didn’t want to.

  ‘A mango tree?’ Kelsey asked.

  Jehan tilted his head.

  ‘Was it scary?’

  ‘Not when Lali stayed with me.’

  ‘Lali is Fozia’s dog,’ Shakila said to Kelsey as Fozia walked over.

  Fozia tilted her head at them as she bent to hug Lali. The dog licked her face on both sides.

  ‘Do you play cricket?’ Jehan asked Kelsey in careful English.

  Her eyes sparkled at him like the sun on the river. ‘Not much, but I can swim.’

  ‘I can swim now,’ Jehan said. ‘Lali taught me.’

  All the girls stared at Lali. She grinned at them. Then she licked Jehan’s hand.

  ‘Let’s take a picnic to the river after school,’ Kelsey said.

  A picnic sounded good, but all Jehan could think about was going to school and finding Amir.

  Jehan was quiet when the girls collected him for the picnic. School was different from the one in Jehan’s village. For a start, it was in a tent and there were no desks or chairs. And the boys sat on a large rug with the classes in different rows. The teacher was welcoming and let Jehan sit with Sunny and Anil, even though they were two grades ahead. She also gave him a slate and a long piece of chalk-stone to write with. But Jehan couldn’t concentrate. He’d looked all around him, especially at where the younger boys were sitting. But he couldn’t see any boys under six sitting on the rug. If his family weren’t here, what had happened to them?

  ‘Let’s go where the goats are,’ Kelsey said, interrupting his thoughts. They sat on the grass near the floodwater. Today it looked just like a wide river.

  She had brought sandwiches – slices of square bread with yellow cheese in the middle. She gave one each to Fozia and Jehan. He had never eaten one before.

  ‘This tastes good,’ he said.

  She smiled at him.

  ‘Tell us about your village,’ Shakila said gently.

  Fozia kept her head down. Jehan didn’t want to talk about his home, but Kelsey looked interested. So he began: ‘My village was like many in the country. We had mudbrick houses and dirt lanes where we played cricket. There were little stalls where vegetables and food were sold, and sweets. And a tailor who made our clothes. We had everything we needed.’

  ‘Was your dad a farmer?’ Kelsey asked.

  ‘Nay, Abu made charpais.’ Jehan swallowed. It hurt to talk about his family, but he also felt proud. ‘He’s the best charpai maker in Pakistan.’

  ‘Wow,’ Kelsey said.

  ‘Ummie made razais. I helped her to put in the cotton filling to make them warmer.’

  Kelsey’s blue eyes stared directly at Jehan. It gave him flutters in his middle. ‘Did your ummie have a sewing machine?’

  ‘Ji. She made the razais at home. Everyone said she made the best razais, just like my abu made the best charpais.’ He looked away.

  Shakila told a story about Kelsey saving Raza from the flood. Jehan glanced at Kelsey. She had saved him, too.

  That night, Izaak came to talk to Jehan before the boys went to sleep.

  ‘I’m sorry but I haven’t found your parents, Jehan.’ His voice faltered. ‘But we will keep searching. We thought we’d found every person who was stranded in this area. And then we found you. You must have been in an isolated area of the flood.’ He put a hand on Jehan’s shoulder. ‘Whatever happens, you are not alone. We will help you. So will Khuda.’

  Jehan didn’t answer. He rolled over to hug Lali. He couldn’t give up. He must keep hoping.

  Lali felt the boy’s sadness and licked his face. She loved him so much: his smell, his calm sounds, his gentle touch, his heart beats when he pressed her to his chest. Beti was like Lali’s mother, but the boy was like a pup she could never leave.

  When she heard his deep breaths like the sleeping pups, she carefully rose and padded out of the tent. The moon shone from above, but Lali could follow her nose at night. First she checked Beti’s tent and listened to her slow breathing. Then she walked along the lanes quietly, putting her nose in all the tents to smell the air. She smelled four-legger horns’ hair, two-legger breaths and sometimes food. But she didn’t take any.

  Finally she returned to the tent where she had smelled the cloth. It was exactly like her boy’s cloth. This time when she inhaled the air she could even smell him. Had he been in here? She wasn’t sure without sniffing under the little sleeping two-leggers and they might wake. She would check again tomorrow.

  A few days later after school, Lali pulled at Jehan’s qameez.

  ‘Hoi, what’s wrong?’

  She trotted away, then looked back at him.

  ‘You want me to follow? Teik hai.’

  Lali led him to the other side of the school tent, by the river. Fozia was there with some small boys.

  ‘I wondered where Lali went,’ Fozia said. ‘Can you help me? It’s my turn to look after the little kids. I thought cricket would keep them happy.’

  ‘Certainly.’ Jehan eyed the cricket bat she held. It was a real one, not like the homemade one he’d used as a paddle. She even had two tennis balls.

  ‘Ao!’ she called to the boys. ‘Let’s play cricket.’

  They all squealed. ‘I want to bat,’ said one boy.

  Another shouted, ‘Nay, me.’

  ‘Me!’

  ‘Me!’

  Fozia appealed to Jehan. ‘Can you sort them out?’

  Jehan called, ‘Line up here and Fozia and I will choose teams. We’ll only choose boys not yelling.’

  The boys fell quiet, standing as tall as they could with their chests puffed out.

  Fozia grinned at Jehan. ‘How did you do that?’

  Jehan was quiet a moment. ‘I used to play cricket with the little kids in my village.’ He sighed. Then he heard a voice in his head. Can I play, too? It was just what Amir used to say. Jehan’s eyes stung. He couldn’t even play cricket without remembering his brother.

  ‘Can I play?’ The words came again.

  ‘There you are,’ Fozia said. ‘Certainly, you can play.’

  Jehan stood very still. The voice wasn’t in his head. The voice was behind him. And he knew that voice.

  He turned. ‘Amir?’ He crouched on the ground, his arms wide.

  The little boy stared at him a long moment and then he squealed. ‘Jehan!’

  Amir ran right into his arms. He’d never done that before.

  Jehan caught him and held him close. He stood and spun around and around, crying into Amir’s neck. ‘I thought I’d lost you forever.’

  Lali pranced around them, barking. The other kids formed a circle, staring at them with their mouths open.

  Eventually, Jehan put Amir on the ground.

  ‘I like Lali,’ Amir said. ‘She played with me this morning and sniffed me everywhere. She loves me.’

  Jehan laughed as he patted her red fur. ‘So, Lali, you think Amir and I smell the same?’ Suddenly he took Amir by the shoulders. ‘Are Ummie and Abu here?’

  Amir’s face fell. ‘They didn’t come for me. I was so scared that I put the ripped razai over my head. But it was wet and I had to keep climbing higher. Then there was no room because I was at the top. A man found me a few days later still in the pomegranate tree.’ He sniffed. ‘I wanted to keep hold of your hand, but—’

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on to you.’

  ‘Have you just come?’ Amir asked.

  Jehan tilted his head. ‘A week ago. I lived in a mango tree with Lali. And she taught me to swim. And caught me a machli to eat.’

  Amir’s eyes opened wide. ‘I wish I had been with you.’

  ‘M
e too.’

  Amir told Jehan about his time in the camp. ‘Fozia sleeps in our tent most nights so we’re not scared. Sometimes Izaak does, too. He tells stories like Ummie used to. About rainbows and a boy king who killed a giant.’

  Jehan sighed. He’d give anything to hear his mother tell them stories. If only he could hug her again.

  Jehan looked up to see the kids watching them. Some were smiling, but Fozia wasn’t. When she caught Jehan looking at her, she ran back to the tents.

  Just then, Shakila and Kelsey arrived with Raza.

  ‘Here, Raza,’ Shakila said, ‘I’m sure Jehan will play cricket with you.’

  ‘Looks like you already have a team,’ Kelsey said.

  Jehan couldn’t see Fozia anymore.

  ‘I found my brother,’ Amir shouted at the girls.

  Shakila looked at Jehan in wonder. ‘Amir is your brother? Wah. He was so lonely, but when we asked him for his father’s name he kept saying “Abu”.’

  ‘Fozia ran away,’ Amir said.

  Shakila bit her lip. ‘We need to be kind to Fozia. She lost her sister.’

  ‘Like Jehan lost me?’ Amir said.

  Shakila glanced at Jehan and tipped her head. ‘Ji.’

  Kelsey said, ‘I’m going back to Australia soon and I want you to come to a party. You must all promise to come. Jehan?’

  ‘Ji.’ Jehan couldn’t look at her today. She seemed fairy-like in a red-spotted shalwar qameez. She was so fair the light shone through her. He wanted to say thank you for the ribbon, but the right words wouldn’t come.

  Kelsey crouched by Lali. ‘And you must come, too. You are a very special girl. You brought Jehan here.’

  After cricket Jehan wanted to find Fozia. Amir showed him to her sleeping tent.

  ‘You stay out here,’ he said to Amir, ‘and play ball with Lali.’ He thought Fozia might get upset again if she saw him with Amir.

  Fozia was the only girl in the tent. Jehan called to her through the flaps. ‘Fozia, can I come in?’

  ‘Go away!’ She sounded cross, but he could hear the tears in her words. He took a deep breath and went inside. He was young enough to be allowed in women’s places.

  Fozia was curled on a mat, wiping her nose on her dupatta. ‘Don’t you do what you’re told?’

  Jehan just said, ‘I’m sorry about your sister.’

  She sighed and sat up. ‘I’m sorry, too. When I heard Amir’s story, it made me remember. I couldn’t hold my sister, Saima, either, and the flood just swept her away. She was screaming for me.’ Her voice popped. ‘She was little like Amir.’

  ‘Maybe she got caught in a tree like me?’ He kneeled beside her.

  Fozia shook her head. ‘I saw her go under.’

  Jehan was quiet.

  ‘I’m truly happy for you,’ Fozia said. Then she did a remarkable thing. She reached over and hugged him. His neck got wet from her tears, but he didn’t mind. It was just the way he’d imagined a big sister would hug.

  When Fozia sat back, she said, ‘You are very kind, Jehan.’

  That night Jehan had vegetable curry and chapattis in the food tent with Amir.

  As they left, Amir said, ‘Fozia is nice to me. I wish she was our sister.’

  Jehan’s eyes filled. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Sleep well,’ Amir said. He turned to go to his tent.

  But Jehan grabbed his brother’s arm. ‘Nay.’

  Amir turned in surprise. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘We are family,’ Jehan said, ‘and even if you are too young for my tent, you will sleep with me. And sometimes with Fozia, if you like.’

  Amir jumped on Jehan and hugged him. As they embraced, Jehan felt his little brother go floppy just like the pups when they felt safe.

  Jehan had been attending school for three weeks when, one lunchtime, Izaak came to talk to him. ‘Ao, come with me, please, Jehan.’

  The other boys ran out eager to eat, while Jehan packed up his slate and chalk-stone. Izaak looked different today and jiggled his leg. The movement made Jehan’s stomach feel like a centipede was uncurling in there.

  He followed Izaak to the goat field and waited for him to speak.

  ‘Are you enjoying school?’ Izaak asked.

  Jehan tipped his head to the side. Izaak was respectful to not say his news at once, but Jehan wished he would. He looked so nervous, it was worrying.

  Izaak cleared his throat. ‘We have found some people who may be your parents.’

  A bubble rose up Jehan’s chest and burst out of his mouth. ‘Truly? Where are they?’ He squinted at the camp. ‘Which tent are they in? I thought I had checked them all with Lali.’ He looked up at Izaak. ‘Did they just come?’

  Izaak shook his head. ‘We are building a village further down the river. We think they are there – a boat ride away.’

  ‘Can we go now?’

  ‘Tomorrow. First we’ll visit Kelsey’s house for the party, then we’ll meet them.’

  ‘I’ll tell Amir.’ Jehan turned, but Izaak put a hand on his arm.

  ‘Wait …’ Izaak hesitated. ‘It’s best not to get his hopes up. He’ll be disappointed if it isn’t them.’

  And I won’t?

  Jehan felt a pang of worry. What would he and Amir do if their parents couldn’t be found?

  The thought of what might happen kept Jehan in such a state that Lali kept licking him and walking with him wherever he went. Shakila even asked if he was well. What if they weren’t his parents? But what if they were?

  He kneeled by the bath, cleaning it out, thinking about his parents and how Kelsey had helped him. Nala and Lal were jumping on Lali. Eventually Lali moved and sat by Jehan.

  He patted her. ‘I’ve had an idea, Lali. I want to give Kelsey a gift.’

  Lali panted at him.

  ‘But what?’ The pups weren’t his to give and Kooki was enjoying her freedom with Shakila’s hens. ‘Nothing I’ve rescued from the flood is good enough for Kelsey.’ Her act of kindness had saved him. ‘Could I make a gift?’

  Lali barked as if she agreed. He remembered his father showing him how to make a miniature charpai. ‘You’ll be able to make real ones when you’re older,’ his father had said.

  A charpai was the perfect gift to help Kelsey remember Pakistan. Every family had at least one. He put the pups back in the bath.

  ‘Ao, Lali, we’ll find Amir.’ They walked down the dirt lanes to the grassy area where the children and goats played. Jehan wondered what would happen tomorrow. Would he return or would this be his last day here?

  Amir was sitting on a rise, playing with the baby goats. Jehan dropped onto his haunches beside his brother. ‘Do you want to help me make a gift for Kelsey?’

  Amir’s eyes shone. ‘Ji, but what?’

  ‘A tiny charpai like Abu used to make.’

  Amir’s smile disappeared.

  Jehan almost told him Izaak’s news, but instead he took Amir by the hand. ‘Let’s run and find Izaak. He’ll help us to collect the things we need.’

  Izaak was in the food tent, chopping onions for a curry. He smiled at the boys. ‘You’ve come to help?’

  ‘Actually,’ Jehan said, ‘we need some wood and string. Red string would be best.’ Red was a joyous colour, the colour of celebration.

  Izaak raised his eyebrows.

  ‘We want to make Kelsey a gift,’ Amir explained.

  Izaak tilted his head and continued chopping. He did it faster than their mother ever had. ‘Ao,’ Izaak said when he’d finished. He took Jehan and Amir to the woodpile outside the food tent.

  Lali sniffed around while Jehan chose four small pieces of pine for the legs and helped Amir pick four flatter pieces for the frame.

  Izaak handed Jehan a knife and chisel. ‘You’ll need these, too. But you’ll have to ask Shakila f
or red string.’

  All afternoon Jehan worked on the frame of the charpai, while Amir helped keep it steady. Jehan carved and smoothed the wood so Kelsey wouldn’t get a splinter. Lali disappeared for a while, but returned in time to visit Shakila.

  ‘Red string?’ she said. ‘What are you making?’

  ‘It’s a surprise for Kelsey, but you mustn’t tell,’ Amir said.

  Shakila hugged Amir, then glanced at Jehan and grinned. ‘I’ve got embroidery thread. Will that work?’

  Jehan tilted his head and Shakila ran to get it from her room.

  ‘Shukriya.’

  Jehan and Amir couldn’t get back to the tent fast enough. Lali barked around them as they ran.

  Jehan wove the thread across the tiny charpai frame just as his father had woven hemp rope on full-sized ones. Then he held it up for Amir to see.

  ‘It’s khubsurat,’ Amir said in wonder.

  They carefully wrapped it in newspaper like their mother wrapped gifts.

  As Jehan fell asleep that night he thought of one more thing he needed to do before they left for Kelsey’s house.

  Early the following morning, with Lali loping up ahead, they went to see Fozia. She was playing catch with the little boys in the goat field. Jehan grinned as he watched them fumble. They weren’t very good.

  Jehan and Amir joined in. ‘Hold your hands like this,’ Jehan said to the boys. He cupped his hands together in front of his chest. The boys followed, but some still dropped the ball. Their hands spread when they saw it coming.

  ‘Shukriya, thanks for helping,’ Fozia said after Amir ran off to play with the boys. ‘It’s easier teaching the little girls to embroider, but I let Shakila do that.’

  Jehan thought he knew why – the smaller girls would remind Fozia of her sister.

  ‘Fozia,’ Jehan said. ‘Would you come with me to Kelsey’s house today? Her family are having a party. Kelsey asked Lali to come too,’ he added.

  Fozia gave him a sharp look. ‘Why do you want me to come?’

  Jehan spoke carefully. ‘Izaak may have found our parents. I’d like you and Lali with us in case they’re not.’