Jehan and the Quest of the Lost Dog

by Rosanne Hawke

  Her eyes softened and Jehan didn’t say what he hoped would happen if these people truly were his parents.

  Fozia put an arm around him. ‘I hope they are your abu and ummie.’ She gave him a wobbly smile. ‘I’ll come.’

  Jehan’s stomach churned as he sat in Izaak’s boat with Amir, Lali and Fozia, and Shakila. The pups sat on his razai at Fozia’s feet. Lali rested her head in Jehan’s lap and looked up at him. She watched him as if she knew something important was about to happen.

  To Jehan, today felt like the beginning of the rest of his life. He didn’t know what sort of beginning it would be. That of a son or of an orphan. He shuddered and Fozia touched his hand that cradled the gift.

  Izaak was a fast driver, even though there were trees and mounds of debris to miss, and Amir laughed as his hair blew upward in the wind. Jehan was glad he hadn’t told his little brother Izaak’s news. Amir would be devastated if the people turned out to be strangers.

  Soon Jehan noticed a huge island ahead in the middle of the floodwater. As Izaak steered toward it, Jehan could see a small village. Cement walls of different heights showed that new houses were being built. A few already had roofs. But, since it was Friday, there were no sounds from the workers.

  Suddenly Kelsey appeared at the top of the bank and called to them as they hopped out of the boat. ‘Salaam, Jehan,’ she said. ‘Salaam, Fozia.’ When she saw Lali, she squealed. ‘Lali, you came! And you brought the pups!’

  Jehan’s spirits lifted a little. ‘Salaam, Kelsey,’ he said. At least he would spend time with the most interesting girl he’d ever seen.

  ‘Come on,’ Kelsey said in English. ‘There’s so much food.’ Her yellow hair was plaited like Shakila’s and Fozia’s.

  Jehan took Amir’s hand and followed the girls to a house. He wondered when he should give the gift.

  At the house Jehan stopped in amazement. It looked like a wedding set-up. Shamianas, colourful tents, and decorations swayed in the breeze. Men were stirring spicy curries in big degs with spoons as long as their arms. Others were baking naan in a tandoor oven. Jehan breathed in the smell of hot yeasty bread. He could also smell rice cooking in another deg.

  ‘Is someone getting married?’ Jehan asked Kelsey.

  ‘No.’ Her blue eyes sparkled. ‘Shakila’s father said we should have a big party for all the workers who are helping build new houses.’

  ‘Then you’ll leave?’ Jehan asked.

  Kelsey didn’t tilt her head to the side in the normal way. She nodded her head up and down like a horse. ‘I’m sad to go now,’ she said. ‘I’ll miss Pakistan and my friends. And you.’

  Jehan smiled. It was strange to feel sad and happy at the same time. ‘I have a gift for you.’

  Kelsey looked at the newspaper package. ‘Come into the house. We can put it there.’

  ‘We’ll come, too,’ Shakila said. ‘We can help your ummie.’

  Fozia tilted her head to agree then told Lali to sit outside, but Kelsey said, ‘Oh, she can come in. Mum won’t mind. Bring the pups, too.’

  Inside, Kelsey’s mum was making a huge pot of chai. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Are you Jehan?’

  Jehan tipped his head. He wasn’t sure how to answer ‘Hi’.

  ‘And you must be Amir.’ Kelsey’s mother kissed him on the head. Then she patted Lali. ‘And you are the famous hero dog Kelsey’s been telling me about. What beautiful pups you have.’ She put out trays. ‘How long did you live in a tree, Jehan?’

  Jehan considered. ‘I lost my charpai where I was keeping count of the days, but almost a month, I think.’

  Kelsey’s mum stared at him. ‘That’s a long time. What did you eat?’

  Not much, Jehan felt like saying. ‘Mangoes. Some food in tins I rescued from the flood. Lali found a fish.’

  ‘That’s amazing. How did you cook it?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ Jehan shifted his feet while Shakila and Fozia helped put chai cups on the trays.

  Kelsey looked at him closely. ‘You ate a raw fish? You’re very brave.’

  Jehan hadn’t felt brave. All of a sudden the gift in his hands felt heavy. He held it out to her. ‘Thank you for the ribbon.’ He wanted to say so much more: how the ribbon had given him hope every time he’d touched it; how he wouldn’t be here, now, about to possibly meet his parents, if it weren’t for her simple gesture of kindness.

  ‘Shukriya.’ Kelsey put the gift on the table and looked back at Jehan.

  He laid his hand on the ribbon. It was the right time to give it back.

  ‘You can keep the ribbon, Jehan. I’m glad it helped.’

  ‘Actually,’ he hesitated, ‘I know you’d rather open the gift later, but I may never see you again. I want to know if you like it.’

  ‘You want me to open it now?’

  ‘Ji.’ With relief Jehan saw she was excited, not shocked at his bad manners.

  ‘This is what we do in Australia,’ she said. ‘It’s good manners there to open a gift at once.’ She pulled off the newspaper.

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped, staring at the charpai. She turned her shining eyes to Jehan. ‘Did you make it?’

  ‘Ji.’

  ‘Wait here.’ Kelsey dashed into another room and came back with a porcelain doll.

  ‘That’s a beautiful gudiya,’ Jehan said. It looked just like Kelsey, but he stopped himself from saying so.

  ‘This is Amy Jo,’ Kelsey said.

  Fozia and Shakila crowded around Kelsey to see. Even Amir stood on his tiptoes. Lali yipped and wagged her tail.

  ‘She had a quest to find someone to love her and ended up with me.’ Kelsey put Amy Jo into the charpai and held her up proudly. ‘Look! The charpai is just her size.’ Kelsey did an amazing thing then. She hugged Jehan.

  ‘I’ll keep the charpai forever,’ she said.

  Jehan grinned, then grew quiet. Like Amy Jo, both he and Lali had been on a quest – a quest to find their families. Lali had found hers. But would he and Amir find theirs? He glanced at Fozia and his heart ached.

  This was the first time Lali had been in a two-legger’s house. Everyone patted her and the girl with the pale hair even hugged her around the neck. The girl smelled like a green field with wildflowers blowing in the breeze.

  Lali ran around sniffing every corner. The smells were enticing. Food cooking made her saliva run. She sensed a tough-tail behind a heavy box, too. It even squeaked but the two-leggers didn’t hear. She scratched around but she couldn’t reach it.

  Then she picked up a familiar scent. It smelled vaguely of the two-legger boy and his litter-mate. She nosed a machine on a low table. There was cloth on it, like the one the boy slept on. She checked it again as the pale girl brought out something that looked like a pup. It was good to see the boy smile. Just then she heard a shout from outside.

  Lali ran to the wire door. What delicious smells! There was that cloth scent again. She barked and pushed the door with her nose. It opened and she dashed outside.

  ‘Lali?’ the boy called. ‘Where are you going? Come back.’

  She pretended not to hear. This couldn’t wait. She dashed out among the two-leggers milling around the charpais and cooking pots. The boys and Beti followed right behind her. She ran here and there, smelling the people. Some shouted at her.

  The boy cried, ‘Lali, what’s wrong?’

  Then she found the smell growing stronger – the cloth like the boy’s. There was a charpai, too, just like the one the boy had slept on in the tree. Lali was standing in front of a two-legger man and woman. She panted up at them, but they didn’t see her.

  They were staring at the boys.

  Jehan ran after Lali.

  ‘Lali, come!’ he shouted. But she wouldn’t obey.

  He dodged charpais and tables, apologising to everyone, and finally caught up to her sitting in front of a man and wo
man.

  Lali looked back at him and panted.

  Jehan stood still, then wiped his eyes to focus, not believing what he saw.

  Could it be true? After all this time?

  Amir ran up and stood beside Jehan. He slipped his hand into his brother’s.

  The man and woman opened their arms. ‘Jehan! Amir!’ they cried.

  Suddenly Amir squealed. ‘Ummie! Abu!’ He fell into his mother’s embrace.

  Jehan sobbed as his heart jumped. It was true! He followed Amir and ran straight into his parents’ arms.

  ‘We thought we lost you both.’ Jehan’s father was weeping, patting Amir’s head with one hand while he still held Jehan.

  Everyone gathered around, watching and smiling as the four of them hugged together. But Jehan didn’t care; he didn’t even mind if Kelsey saw his tears.

  Lali gave excited yips and circled them, whacking Jehan with her tail.

  ‘We heard about a boy in a tree,’ his mother said, ‘but we didn’t dare hope it was you. But no one could find you. Or Amir.’ She wiped her face with her cotton shawl.

  His father said, ‘We were swept away after you were, but managed to cling to a cement roof. A boat picked us up. When we got back to the ruins of the house, both of you were gone. We searched and searched for you.’

  ‘Your abu was out every morning,’ Jehan’s mother said. ‘But the river had flooded over thirty kilometres wide. It was impossible to find you.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Jehan said. ‘I hoped and prayed you’d be alive.’ Then he noticed Izaak standing nearby. ‘How did you guess who my parents were?’

  ‘It was Kelsey and Shakila,’ Izaak said. ‘You told them that your father made the best charpais in the country. And your mother the best razais. Your parents do make the best charpais and razais we have ever seen.’

  Jehan’s heart lifted. Everyone in his old village had said that about his parents.

  ‘That’s how we are helping to build this village,’ Jehan’s father said. I have a job here, making charpais. Your mother makes razais and helps Kelsey’s ummie teach ladies to sew. We’ve even built a new house; one made of cement.’

  ‘Here?’ Jehan stared at him.

  ‘Ji.’

  ‘You don’t have to go back to the camp,’ his mother said.

  ‘Wah!’ Amir jumped in the air.

  ‘But I have – I mean, I share – a dog.’ Jehan put his arms around Lali’s neck. ‘Her name is Lali. She’s Fozia’s dog, but she helped me in the flood and looked after me in the tree. We rescued her pups and she brought me to the tent city.’

  Jehan looked away and saw Fozia watching them. She had a sad, hungry look in her eyes.

  He beckoned to Fozia to join them.

  She gave the pups to Shakila and wiped her eyes. Finally, she walked over and held Jehan’s hand. ‘I’m glad you have your parents,’ she whispered.

  He took a big breath. He was going to ask for something he’d only dreamed about. But what if Fozia refused?

  ‘Ummie ji,’ he said. ‘Fozia can’t find her parents. She’s my friend, and Amir’s.’ He said his next words softly into his mother’s ear. In turn, she whispered to his father. He tilted his head.

  ‘Fozia,’ his mother said, ‘Jehan would like you to live with us until your relatives are found. Are you happy for this?’

  Fozia’s eyes filled as if she would say ‘no’. Jehan’s heart sank.

  But then she was tipping her head, saying ‘Ji, Ji’ and laughing and crying at the same time. Jehan had a lot to learn about girls.

  Jehan’s father said, ‘You will be our very own daughter, our beti.’

  At the word ‘beti’ Lali jumped up. ‘Woof!’ She licked Fozia’s hand.

  Everyone laughed.

  Kelsey walked over then.

  ‘Salaam, Kelsey,’ Jehan’s mother said, touching her head in blessing.

  ‘Salaam, Aunty ji.’ Kelsey hugged her. ‘I was hoping you would be Jehan’s ummie.’

  Amir said, ‘Fozia is going to be our big sister.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. Looks like it’s time to celebrate!’ Kelsey hugged Fozia, Amir and Shakila, and then Jehan. ‘I’m going to miss you all so much.’

  Jehan couldn’t remember eating so much curry and rice. There was even okra curry – his favourite. And speeches. Kelsey’s dad, Mr Len, thanked all of the workers and said they would have jobs for a long time to come because so many houses were needed due to the flood. Then Mr Len said he would return to see how the building was going. That sounded good to Jehan. Maybe Kelsey would come with him.

  Jehan watched his parents with Amir and Lali playing near them. Despite everything that happened in the flood, he didn’t think his life could get much better. ‘I’ve always wanted a sister,’ he said softly, holding his empty plate.

  Fozia heard. ‘And I’ve always wanted a brother.’

  ‘Before the flood, it was my job to collect pani because I didn’t have a sister.’

  Fozia laughed. ‘I love getting pani.’

  ‘You do?’ Jehan screwed up his face.

  She giggled. ‘I can even hold a clay pot on my head like my grandmother could.’

  ‘Truly?’

  She pinched his cheek in affection. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll help with your chores. But you have to do your share, too.’

  When Lali woke she was lying with her pups on the floor between Beti on one charpai and the boy and his litter-mate on another. She wasn’t allowed on the charpai, which was difficult to remember, but she wasn’t in a tree or a tent. And there was no big-water, no swimming and no hunger. She was safe and sleeping inside a house for the first time in her life.

  She put her head up to lick the boy’s fingers hanging over the charpai. He bent over to pat her. Then she licked Beti’s hand. Beti yawned and made happy sounds to Lali and the boys.

  Lali snuggled with her pups. They’d wake soon to crawl over her, bite her ears and pull her tail, but until then all was peaceful.

  She had found all she had searched for and more: her pups and Beti, the boy, and his family, too. Now they were all from the same pack, and would share the same story.

  She heaved a sigh. Life was just as it should be.

  (Some words are spelled phonetically for ease of reading.)

  Abu – Dad

  accha – good

  ao – come

  bandar – monkey

  batto – sit

  beta – son

  beti – daughter

  billie – cat

  chacha – uncle, father’s younger brother

  chai – sweet milky tea

  chapatti – flat bread cooked on the stove

  charpai – a light bed with a string or rope netting; often called a string bed

  chuha – rat

  chup – quiet

  deg – large steel cooking pot

  dupatta – a long scarf

  gudiya – doll (pronounced goodiya)

  ji – yes (short for ji haan). Also used after names as respect

  janab – sir, mister

  kookidi – hen (Punjabi)

  khoob – good, beautiful

  khubsurat – beautiful

  Khuda – God

  Khuda hafiz – goodbye (May God be your Protector)

  khush/khushi – happy

  kutta – dog

  lal – red

  machli – fish

  naan – baked flatbread

  nay – no (slang)

  Nooh – Noah

  pani – water

  parinda – bird

  qameez – shirt or top

  razai – quilt

  salaam – hello (meaning peace to you)

  shalwar – baggy pants or trousers
>
  shalwar qameez – outfit of clothes with baggy long pants and long loose shirt

  shamiana – colourful tent or marquee

  shukriya – thank you

  teik hai – fine, okay

  tota – parrot

  Ummie – Mum

  wah – bravo, wow

  big-water – flood

  four-legger – animal with four legs

  litter-mate – brother or sister

  little-winger – fly

  long-tail – monkey

  swimmer – fish

  tough-tail – rat

  two-legger – human

  winger – bird

  The idea to write Jehan and the Quest of the Lost Dog was first suggested by my friend Phil Cummings. The storyline was inspired by a photo I saw while researching the Pakistani floods when writing Kelsey and the Quest of the Porcelain Doll (see ‘Acknowledgements’ for the photo credit).

  In July and August of 2010, heavy monsoon rain fell over most of Pakistan causing flash floods and landslides. Rivers rose rapidly and the Indus River and its tributaries pushed over their banks, spreading over thirty kilometres in some places. It is estimated the flooded area was the size of England.

  The floodwater affected twenty-one million people, including over eight million children. Almost two million houses were destroyed, as well as roads, bridges, villages, electrical stations and ten thousand schools. Months later, large areas were still under water and some people couldn’t return home for six months to a year. Health issues from the lack of fresh water and food became a huge problem. Pakistan called the 2010 flood their worst in recorded history and linked it to climate change.

  I wrote Jehan’s story to show what living in the flood might have been like for a boy like him and also to show how many people helped the flood victims by building houses.

  Thanks for ideas and discussion about Jehan’s story go to Mrs Dearne Prior’s Year 3/4 class at Kapunda Primary School, Mr Blake Hammat’s Year 4 class at Hills Christian Community School, Samson, Jehan from Gawler Lutheran School (for the use of his name), Sarosh Samuel, Janeen Brian, fellow eKIDnas author, and Michael Hawke. Also a huge thank you to my wonderful agent Jacinta di Mase, and all the team at UQP, especially my publisher Kristina Schulz and my editor extraordinaire, Kristy Bushnell, who finds the treasure hidden in a story.