Promising Azra

by Helen Thurloe

  There was no time to feel awkward about making conversation alone with Tom. About B. Or anything else. Almost as soon as we got to the kerb, I could hear a car accelerate from the main road. Twenty seconds later, Mrs Hussain’s green four-wheel drive zoomed straight towards us. Soraya was in the front seat, her eyes as wide as a manga character’s.

  The tyres screeched as Mrs Hussain braked hard.

  She jumped down. ‘Where is she?’ she asked, her eyes darting.

  ‘This way,’ said Tom, ‘follow me.’

  I opened the passenger door for Soraya, who had the dog on her lap. The car keys swung from the ignition.

  ‘What’s happening?’ asked Soraya. ‘We were walking El-charisma in the park, and then Mrs Hussain said we had to hurry.’

  I scratched the dog between his ears. His tail wagged like a flag in a breeze.

  ‘B’s sick,’ I said. ‘She needs to go to hospital.’

  Soraya sat up straight. ‘Hospital? But what about our walk?’ she asked. ‘And we were going to make biscuits!’

  Another seed pod clacked onto the road. The cockatoo looked at us with a black eye, and fanned out his yellow comb.

  ‘Maybe not anymore,’ I said.

  Through the gates, I could see people coming. Tom and Pratik had linked arms to carry Bassima sitting up. She had one arm across Pratik’s shoulders and another across Tom’s. Her face was tight with pain.

  ‘Put her in the front seat,’ said Mrs Hussain.

  I scooped up the dog. ‘Quick, Soraya, get out,’ I said. ‘Bassima’s coming.’

  Soraya slid off the seat and we stepped out of the way. Getting Bassima up into the seat wasn’t easy. Tom shoved her on the bum to help her up, while Mrs Hussain pulled her through from the driver’s seat. She cried out.

  It made the dog yelp and squirm in my arms.

  ‘El-charisma!’ said Soraya. ‘Be quiet.’

  Tom closed the car door as Bassima curled over in her seat. No way she could put on a seatbelt. Mrs Hussain leapt behind the wheel and drove away.

  Tom crossed his arms with a grim expression on his face, watching the car turn onto the main road.

  ‘Will she be all right?’ Soraya asked me.

  I shook my head. ‘Hope so.’ I didn’t want to worry her, but it didn’t look good. It came on so fast. Like something on one of those TV hospital emergency shows.

  We were all silent. Mrs Kaminski spoke first. ‘Poor girl. What a shame.’

  ‘Thanks, boys,’ said Mr Jefferson.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Kaminski, ‘thanks.’ The cockatoo flew away with a screech.

  The dog wriggled in my arms. The dog. Now I had the dog, and Soraya. And Bassima’s mobile phone. Her bag was probably in the lab too.

  ‘Well,’ said Mr Jefferson, ‘shall we get back into it?’ He waved his arm towards the science block. ‘I think we’ll relocate labs and start again.’

  Vanessa and Bradley followed him, with Tom and Pratik behind.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Kaminski?’

  She turned to me.

  ‘Ummm, some complications,’ I said, nodding to the dog and Soraya. Mrs Kaminski looked surprised.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I see.’

  Then she looked at Soraya, as if seeing her for the first time. ‘Sorry, forgot my manners. What’s your name, young lady?’ she said, crouching down.

  ‘I’m Soraya,’ she said. ‘Azra’s sister.’

  ‘Oh, Soraya!’ said Mrs Kaminski. ‘Azra’s told me about you. Nice to meet you. And how old are you, Soraya?’

  Soraya rolled her feet to the edge of her shoes and swung her arms self-consciously. ‘I’m five.’

  ‘Five! That’s a good number. I have two girls, seven and four. Jess and Camilla.’

  ‘Do they like dogs?’ asked Soraya.

  ‘I think so,’ said Mrs Kaminski, ‘but we have a cat, Snuggles. Is that your dog?’

  Soraya shook her head.

  ‘No?’ said Mrs Kaminski.

  ‘It’s Bassima’s,’ I explained.

  ‘El-charisma,’ said Soraya. ‘We were just walking him when Bassima got sick.’

  Mrs Kaminski nodded. ‘I see.’

  With deep reluctance, I said, ‘Maybe I should take them back to Bassima’s. They can’t go in the lab. And I’ve still got her phone.’

  Mrs Kaminski frowned. ‘No point taking their dog home when they’ve gone to the hospital. Who knows when they’ll be back?’

  She was right.

  ‘Let’s see what we can work out with Mr Jefferson.’

  A sudden gust of wind blew droplets off the tree, spraying us as we walked towards the science block.

  ‘My bag’s at Mrs Hussain’s house,’ said Soraya, ‘with all my coloured pencils.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get them later.’

  Soraya and I lolled near the umbrellas as Al-Khwarizmi sniffed at the strange chemical smells. And the stink of B’s vomit.

  Mrs Kaminski leaned in through the lab door. ‘Doug? A word?’

  After a few minutes, she came back out.

  ‘I’m afraid we can’t have the dog and Soraya in the lab,’ she said.

  I knew it. We’d have to go home.

  ‘But,’ she continued, ‘I can take them out for a walk around the grounds for an hour, so you can at least have a go. To be honest, I could do with some fresh air.’

  Soraya clutched my elbow, and looked at the dog.

  ‘It’ll be fun,’ I said, handing her the lead before she could object. ‘He’d love a bit of a run. Off you go.’

  Soraya looked startled. I took my chance. ‘See you soon!’ I said, half-running towards the lab. I didn’t look back.

  By the time I found the new lab, Mr Jefferson had re-organised the teams into two. Tom and Vanessa in one. Bradley and Pratik in the other.

  ‘Azra,’ said Mr Jefferson, ‘I suggest we flip a coin for you to join one of the teams?’

  ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I don’t mind being a team of one.’ Vanessa and Tom looked at me like I was crazy. ‘If that’s okay.’

  Mr Jefferson raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, if you like—but there’s quite a bit to do.’

  ‘Besides,’ I said, conscious of Bassima’s mobile in my pocket, ‘I might have to leave early, and I don’t want to muck up another team.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Mr Jefferson. ‘Fair enough. Now, where were we? Right. There’s two unknown compounds for each team in test tubes in one rack, and all known compounds labelled in the other. First to complete with correct identification wins. Let’s call the starting time,’ he continued, checking the clock at the back of the lab. ‘Two thirty-five. Ready, set, go!’

  I scrutinised each of the white powders, then held the stoppered test tubes up to the window and shook them. They were different shades of white. I checked whether they clumped together or didn’t. Then I drew up a table with columns, to note the differences.

  After a close look at my two unknowns, I could already get rid of two of the six compounds, which meant I wouldn’t need to waste time testing them.

  I knew that usually you’d test first for solubility and density, and maybe I would have to do that later, but I went straight for pH. It might be all I needed. And it would be quick.

  Tom and Vanessa dropped spatula tips of compound into test tubes and counted out ten drops of solvent. They were doing everything methodically. Good practice. But slow.

  Bradley bossed Pratik. ‘Not like that!’ he said. ‘You’ll contaminate the compound.’

  I put two grams of each of the four known compounds into the test tubes, adding ten mils of water to each. After checking solubility, I extracted a drop from each one with a stirring rod and touched the neutral litmus paper. Two drops went red on the white paper, and two went blue. I did the same with my two unknowns. They both went red. I looked at Tom and Vanessa. They were still recording solubility.

  Bradley said to Pratik, ‘That’s not how to measure density!’

  ‘Fine!’ said Pratik. ‘Do it
your way!’ He slammed his tongs down on the bench.

  Mr Jefferson sat marking papers on the demonstration bench. I walked up to him, and tilted up my safety goggles. Al-Khwarizmi barked under the window. I was just in time.

  ‘I’m done, Mr Jefferson,’ I said.

  He looked over his reading glasses. ‘So soon?’

  I nodded. The others looked up, alarmed. ‘Already?’ said Bradley. ‘You can’t be!’

  ‘I think I’m done,’ I said again.

  Vanessa blinked.

  ‘Let’s check,’ said Mr Jefferson. ‘Carry on, everyone.’ He walked up to my bench. ‘Have you written down your results?’

  I nodded, sliding my answer sheet over to him. He looked at it closely. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Looks right to me,’ he said. ‘Well done!’

  The entry doors to the science block banged shut. The dog barked. Soraya’s sneakers squeaked next to the clip of Mrs Kaminski’s boots.

  ‘Carry on, the rest of you,’ he said. ‘We won’t tell you Azra’s results until you’ve got your own.’

  Bradley clicked his tongue. ‘How did you do it so fast?’ he asked. ‘You must’ve taken a short cut.’ He made it sound like cheating. I shrugged and turned away.

  ‘She’s like one of those weeping angels,’ said Pratik. ‘Swift and silent, with deadly intent.’

  ‘Whatever, it’s Azra’s secret,’ said Mr Jefferson. ‘Now it’s a race between the rest of you. Back to work!’

  Mrs Kaminski stood in the doorway. ‘It’s raining again.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll pack up, and take Soraya and the dog home.’

  The phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mrs Hussain.

  ‘Azra? Is that you?’ There was clanging and beeping in the background.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ve still got Bassima’s phone. Is she okay?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Mrs Hussain. ‘Seems she’s got appendicitis. She’s being prepped for surgery.’

  ‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘That’s terrible!’

  Everyone watched me talking on the phone.

  ‘She should be fine,’ said Mrs Hussain. ‘It’s just very sudden. Can you take Al-Khwarizmi back to your place? I’ll get someone to pick him up later. Text me your address? We’ll let you know when.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ve also got B’s bag.’

  ‘Thanks so much,’ said Mrs Hussain. ‘Better go, doctor’s here.’

  ‘Well?’ said Tom. ‘What’s doing?’

  ‘Appendicitis,’ I said. ‘Surgery. About now.’

  He grimaced. ‘Really? That sucks.’

  ‘At least it’s the holidays,’ said Vanessa.

  ‘How is that better?’ said Pratik. ‘We’ve got the chemistry competition next week!’

  Of course. How could I have forgotten?

  ‘What a shame,’ said Mrs Kaminski. ‘She’ll be so disappointed.’

  No one said anything. Tom perched on the edge of the bench, his arms crossed. As he leaned back, a rack of test tubes edged to the corner. It teetered, then fell, smashing glass on the floor in a cloud of unidentified white powders.

  ‘Shit!’ he said. And kicked the bench with his heel.

  Mrs Kaminski drove us home. I was grateful, now that the day had become much more complicated. The dog’s paws left muddy blotches on my lap. Rain, and more rain, flowed over the windscreen, barely interrupted by the wipers.

  Outside our flat, Mrs Kaminski said, ‘Let me know how Bassima is, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said.

  ‘You have my number?’

  I nodded. ‘Course! Zinc, tin, mendelevium, lead.’

  ‘That’s right, I forgot,’ she laughed. ‘Bye-bye, Soraya, nice to meet you.’

  ‘Bye, Mrs Kimski,’ Soraya replied, slipping off the seat into the gutter. ‘Look, there’s nearly a river!’ she said.

  ‘Quick,’ I said. ‘Let’s run!’

  Mrs Kaminski tooted her horn. It was high and flat, like a bath toy. Al-Khwarizmi barked. I thought I heard the neighbour’s dog growl.

  We ran up the steps, and I opened the door. It was warm inside. Rashid was asleep on the divan, a soccer match droning from the television. Home at last, from wherever he’d been.

  ‘Shhh,’ I said to Soraya, kicking off my shoes. Al-Khwarizmi was muddy; I didn’t want him running over the carpet.

  ‘Let’s wash the dog,’ I whispered to Soraya, ‘in the bathroom.’

  In the bath, the dog scrabbled his paws up the side, trying to get out.

  ‘Keep still,’ I said. I put the shower on. He yapped.

  ‘Shush,’ I said, turning off the water. He was soaked and looked half his usual size. ‘That should do.’

  There was a knock on the bathroom door. ‘What’s going on in there?’ asked Rashid.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Out in a minute.’

  I wrapped the dog tightly in a towel, and lifted him, wriggling. Soraya giggled.

  ‘Rashid will be surprised,’ she said. I nodded. He sure would.

  Then she reached up to open the door, and I carried out Al-Khwarizmi, still bundled in the towel. Rashid sat up.

  ‘What the?’ he said. ‘Whose dog is that?’ He didn’t look well. The skin under his eyes was dark and puffy.

  ‘Bassima’s,’ I said. ‘She’s gone to hospital. Appendicitis.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Rashid. ‘But we can’t keep her dog here. Mama will go nuts!’

  ‘Just for a little while,’ I said. ‘Someone’s coming to get him.’

  ‘Can’t we have him more longer?’ asked Soraya, as I towelled him in front of the heater.

  ‘Don’t think so,’ I said. Bassima’s family might be cool about dogs, but mine certainly wasn’t.

  My back pocket buzzed. It was Bassima’s sister calling.

  ‘I’m leaving the office now. Be there about six?’

  ‘Sure, Alesha. See you then.’

  I put Bassima’s phone on the floor.

  ‘Got Bassima’s dog and her phone, eh?’ said Rashid. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Only her bag. What’s it to you?’

  He grunted and turned up the television. There was a penalty shootout.

  Soraya sat next to the dog and stroked his back. He sniffed the room every few minutes, but stayed sitting next to her.

  While we waited, I put on some rice and started chopping vegetables for dinner.

  Only when there was a knock at the door did Al-Khwarizmi stand up and bark. Like a live doorbell.

  ‘Come in,’ I said, ushering Alesha into our living room. She looked out of place, elegant in a dark tailored suit and shiny high heels. Rashid looked up. He muted the TV and stood up too.

  ‘Alesha,’ I said, ‘this is my brother, Rashid.’

  He nodded, smoothing down his hair with his hand. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he said.

  The dog ran up to her, wagging his tail.

  ‘Look at you, rascal!’ she said. ‘Time to take you home.’ She picked him up.

  A key turned in the lock. Mama stepped through the doorway, shaking her umbrella. When she saw all of us, her forehead creased. We didn’t often have visitors to the flat. And we’d never had a dog come over before.

  ‘Mama!’ I said. ‘This is Bassima’s sister, Alesha, and their dog.’

  Mama looked like I’d introduced her to aliens. ‘Bassima’s in hospital,’ I said.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she said, her eyes flicking between Alesha and me and the dog.

  ‘Appendicitis, they think. She’s in surgery. At Bankstown Hospital.’

  ‘My goodness,’ said Mama. ‘Poor Bassima.’

  Soraya tugged on Mama’s tunic. ‘So we had to mind El-charisma,’ she said. ‘My favourite-est dog in the whole world.’

  ‘Lucky that Azra was around to take the dog,’ said Alesha.

  ‘Me too,’ said Soraya. ‘Though we didn’t get to walk him very much. Only with the teacher.’

  Shut up, I thought. No more details. Mama doesn’t n
eed to know.

  ‘Thank goodness the boys were able to carry her to the car,’ said Alesha.

  ‘Boys?’ said Mama frowning. ‘At Bassima’s?’

  ‘No, at the school,’ said Alesha. ‘We don’t have boys visit our house.’

  ‘School?’ said Mama. ‘You were at your school today?’

  I nodded, a lump swelling my throat. Even though that wasn’t quite true. It was actually the boys school. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. That’d be worse.

  ‘Not for long,’ I said. ‘We were doing chemistry practice.’

  ‘Really?’ said Rashid. ‘So that’s what you call it?’

  Alesha looked alarmed. ‘I understand the teachers were there. Nothing haram.’

  ‘I see,’ said Mama.

  Alesha sent me a sympathetic look. She knew I was in trouble. The dog wriggled in her arms. ‘Farid’s waiting in the car, I’d better go. Anything else I should take?’

  I handed her the phone and Bassima’s bag. ‘These,’ I said, ‘plus the dog.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Alesha. White dog hair was already sticking to her suit. ‘Thanks, Az,’ she went on, ‘we’ll let you know. Your number’s in B’s phone?’

  I nodded. I didn’t want her to leave. I knew I was in for it when she did.

  ‘Bye, Soraya, Rashid and Mrs . . .?’

  ‘Ajmal,’ said Mama. ‘Nadira Ajmal.’

  ‘Thanks again,’ said Alesha. ‘Much appreciated, Mrs Ajmal. Azra was a great help today.’ She was trying her best to keep me out of trouble, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Mama opened the front door for her. ‘Our best wishes for Bassima’s recovery,’ she said, her face stiff.

  Alesha nodded, and stepped into the passageway, her heels clacking down the concrete stairs. And taking away with her the bubble of politeness that was now about to pop.

  When the door closed behind her, Mama and Rashid glared at me.

  ‘Well?’ said Mama.

  I wanted to say well what? But I knew it wouldn’t help.

  ‘I had a chemistry practice today. We all did. For the competition next week.’

  Mama took a deep breath. ‘But you didn’t think to tell me?’

  Rashid clicked his tongue.

  ‘I didn’t want to bother you,’ I said. It sounded lame. ‘Mrs Hussain offered to mind Soraya, and the teachers organised it.’