The Tale of a No-Name Squirrel

by Radhika R. Dhariwal

  “And you didn’t think that me in a dark, hollow crypt with two murderous Kowas was deadly?” spat Squirrel.

  “Not really. Squirrel, you forget that I knew the Kowas’ orders. They were not trying to kill you but just capture you. So, if they did get you out of the cave, I was there, waiting to slice them to feathered meat.”

  Squirrel paused. “You just said you promised not to interfere unless I was in a deadly situation?”

  Azulfa nodded.

  “Who did you make this promise to?” said Squirrel, his heart spinning in ways he did not know it could.

  “Your mother,” whispered Azulfa.

  Everyone shut up. Then, all together, they burst into babbles.

  “Dahling, his mom’s been gone for ten seasons!” exclaimed Lady Blouse, brushing a pretty paw against Azulfa as though the crow had just cracked a really silly joke.

  “Whaddya mean, Zulf?” asked Des.

  “She’s got sunstroke,” said Akbar.

  Azulfa waited till the muttering stopped. When she spoke, her voice was just a notch louder than the sandy breeze. “I was born Azulfa Corvidius. I was abandoned as a hatchling. I was forced to become tough at a young age. I mean, really tough.” Azulfa fixed her stare on the colorless sky. “Anyway, one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was recruited by the Kowas.”

  “We know you’re a Kowa. So what?” asked Des.

  “One of my assignments was to kidnap a woman and bring her into Kowa headquarters. I was given her address and told to go collect her. I followed the instructions, broke into the house, and kidnapped her. But the lady turned out to be much . . . feistier than I had expected. Instead of sitting still, she grabbed a seaglass knife and attacked me with it. It was a horrible tussle and a moment later, the lady lay dead on the floor.”

  Azulfa plucked a feather out of her wing and began to wring it. “I . . . I . . . got the wrong lady. Instead of kidnapping one lady, I accidentally killed her sister. Squirrel”—Azulfa looked green, as though she were having her stomach pumped—“the lady I killed was your Aunt Etty—your mother’s sister.”

  Squirrel heard the words. They went from his ears to his brain. Then they fell to his stomach like heavy, rotten seeds. He felt sick. He just wanted to bury his head in the sand, but he couldn’t—not now. He forced himself to hear the crow. He felt his jaw lock, but he nodded for her to continue.

  “When your mother figured out what had happened, she wanted revenge. She tracked me down. One day I got to my home and found her waiting for me. She had the same seaglass knife in her hand that had killed her sister.” Azulfa choked. “I can still remember her so clearly. Her body was so straight. Her eyes were so clear. It was as though her pain had made her stronger. She was half my height but willing to fight me to death to honor her sister.”

  “That day, as I looked at your mother’s brave blue eyes, something changed inside me. I realized that I had crossed a line that I could never come back from. I apologized to her from the core of my being, but my words sounded hollow—even to me. How could a sorry bring back her sister? I offered to do anything I could, but I knew it wouldn’t help. I offered her the one thing I knew she wanted: my life. I laid down my dagger and asked her to kill me. It’s what I deserved.”

  “Your mother, she took her knife and came up to me. For a flick of a moment, I saw her desperate desire to plunge it into my heart. But she dropped it. She said that killing me was meaningless. It was too easy an end for me. Instead she wanted something much more important than my life.”

  “What?” asked Cheska, interrupting Azulfa’s story with a hiccup as she choked back a sob.

  “She asked me to keep you safe, Squirrel. She said that she knew her days were numbered since the Kowas were after her. So she told me to look after you should anything happen to her. I made the promise. I owed her at least that. I vowed to protect you from the other Kowas.” She choked. “If she hadn’t died in the fire, I would have protected her, too.”

  “What . . . what else did she . . . she say?” asked Squirrel.

  “She told me to let you grow naturally and to let you fumble through your own scrapes; I did that. She told me that when there was no other way out, I must help you. I tried to do that. I have upheld my promise to your mother to the best of my ability.” She paused, and gulped. “Oh, and she told me to tell you to never feel ashamed of your acorn-shaped head or your narrow shoulders.”

  Cheska hugged Azulfa. “You repented for your sins. You looked after him. And my brother, too. Thank you . . .”

  Squirrel felt tears spill down his cheeks—they were both hot and cold. He looked straight at Azulfa and said, “But . . . are you still a killer? Are you still a Kowa?”

  Azulfa looked down. “I am who I am, Squirrel. I have done many bad things. Even after I met your mother, I’ve remained a part of the Kowas. But I only took the lighter jobs—no killings, no kidnappings.”

  “But why didn’t you just quit?” asked Squirrel.

  “Maybe for the same reason you were not able to quit the PetPost until right now. It’s the only thing I know how to do. It is my identity. I’ll always be ashamed of who I am, and what I’ve done. I cannot change that. But I thought you should know the truth about me,” said Azulfa. She looked at the late afternoon sun. “Anyway, I vowed to look after you and that’s why I’m back. Now we must get out of this desert immediately.”

  “I can’t go with you,” said Squirrel, stepping back. “You almost killed my mom. You killed my aunt!”

  Azulfa looked straight back at Squirrel. Her eyes were different from how Squirrel had ever seen them. Instead of hard, black beads, they looked like dark, tortured oceans, swelling with apology, breaking with sympathy, and cresting with sorrow. “Squirrel, you should hate me. But I hope that you know . . .” Her voice fell. “I hope you realize that I’m here to protect you.”

  When Squirrel did not respond, Azulfa said again, “Now we must get out of this desert. The Kowas are probably on their way here already.”

  “Squirrel, even though she’s done some mighty messed-up things, she seems to repent them. Remember, she has saved our hides many times. We would’ve been captured at Cheska and Smitten’s wedding if it wasn’t for her,” Des said to Squirrel.

  Squirrel knew Des was right; but when he looked at Azulfa, his mind was blank. “I will never forget that you have harmed my family, Zulf. But for now I will try to forgive you.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Let’s leave. But first we need to eat and drink something—we have a long way to go.”

  Azulfa looked as though she was going to argue, but she did not. Instead she opened a bag tied to her back and removed some mud biscuits, worm jelly, and thin tubes full of squid ink. “We eat and then we go.”

  Finding shade beside a sand dune, they camped, eating in silence.

  Eventually Cheska said, “So, Lady Blouse, rumor had it that you were missing.” She licked a glob of worm jelly off her paw.

  “Yes, how hyperactive everyone is, aren’t they, dahling? I mean, Squirrel had given me some Pretty Piths and I was not about to waste them! So I went to meet my husband in the Elephantine Islands. He was there on business, but who said you can’t mix a little business with pleasure?” she said with a wink.

  “Aww! That must’ve been fun. I can’t wait for our honeymoon. It’ll be fun to . . . travel with Smitten,” said Cheska, turning the color of baby turnip as she spoke.

  “You still haven’t been on your honeymoon?” cried Des.

  “ ’Course not, silly. Couldn’t have gone when my one and only brother’s traipsing across weird, dangerous lands, could I? I’d have been too worried to enjoy it,” said Cheska, ruffling Des’s ear affectionately.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry,” Des said to Cheska and Smitten. “I had no idea.”

  “It’s all my fault,” said Squirrel, feeling slimier than the little leech that was inching its way toward Lady Blouse’s pretty hand. “I ruined your honeymoon.”

  “
Now stop. We’re not going to have you guys talking like this. We can go on our honeymoon anytime, can’t we, sweetheart?” said Smitten, and Cheska nodded prettily. Then he said, “Well, as Zulf said, we should make a move. While the rest of you pack up the food, Squirrel, Azulfa, Des, do you mind helping me with something?”

  “Sure,” they said, following Smitten to another corner of the dune.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Smitten asked, “Des, Squirrel, did you find everything you were looking for?”

  “Yes, we did,” said Squirrel.

  Smitten looked around, as if to see if anyone else was within earshot. No one was. Leaning close to Squirrel and Des, he said, “I confirmed some stuff about the Map of Brittle. It isn’t much, but I found out that the map was originally created to break society into two classes of creatures by either giving or taking away their names. All no-names became slaves, and they had to serve their masters till death.”

  “Y’mean, like . . . like it used to be in the time of the big cats and dogs?” asked Des.

  “Yes. And whoever had the map decided who got to be the slave, and who got to be the master. That person became the most powerful person in the society.

  “But then the masters began to treat their slaves very, very badly. They were cruel and arrogant, and soon anyone was being made into a slave—just for the fun of it. The power of the Map of Brittle was too dangerous. So the governors of Bimmau decided to hide it away. The map was made unreadable and hidden somewhere where no one could find it. The key to read the map was hidden too, but in a different place. And two councils were created: One became the Keepers of the Key. The other became the Wardens of the Map. There was no interaction between them; they didn’t even know who the other was.”

  Smitten looked at Squirrel seriously. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Squirrel?”

  “I think so. . . . You are saying that even if we get Brittle’s Key, it will be hard to get the map,” said Squirrel.

  Smitten nodded. “I’m sorry, Squirrel. It may indeed be difficult for us to find the map. But the other news is that someone else in Bimmau is desperately looking for the map. And rumor has it that they’ve found it already.”

  Squirrel’s pulse raced. Someone had already found the map! Whoever that someone was must be desperately trying to find the key as well.

  “I need to find Brittle’s Key. Just to keep it safe. After that, I can try to find the map.”

  “I agree. But if you are able to find both Brittle’s Key and Brittle’s Map, you will have unbelievable power in Bimmau.” He paused and looked at Squirrel with a grave face. “Power you’ll have to be very careful with. Power that nobody has had for ages. And, that some believe, no one should ever have again.”

  Azulfa nodded. “Your mother never said it openly, but I always suspected that though she was a PetPost slave like you, she had a secret. Based on what Smitten is just saying, I think it was possible that she was actually a Keeper of the Key. That’s why your mother sent you on this quest—so that you would be forced to grow up before you found the key.

  “In fact, she had planned for you only to start the quest after you were married. So that you would be old and wise enough to handle it. But somehow it started earlier . . .”

  Squirrel felt a bizarre sense of calm fill him. Even though he was much younger than he should have been, he had passed his mother’s tests. He was ready to protect the key. Just as his mother had hoped.

  Suddenly, finding the map, discovering his name, getting his freedom did not matter. Looking up at his friends, he said, “I have to protect Brittle’s Key. That is my destiny. But first I need to find it. At least I know where it is. We need to go back to Bimmau.” The image of his room in his tree cottage, with the big blue book above his desk, flashed in his mind.

  “Good, good. Well, we’ve delayed long enough. Let’s move,” urged Azulfa, looking at the sky.

  “Why do you have to be such a killjoy?” groaned Des, who was still shoveling a fist of bone chips into his mouth.

  Azulfa snorted. “I promised to protect Squirrel and I’ll be damned if I break my word on the only vow I’ve ever made.”

  A Place to Rest

  Their sprint south was interrupted twice. The first time, they ran straight into a band of jackals. Luckily, the jackals had just stuffed themselves on what looked like the remains of a large buck and were in such deep slumber that the entire valley rang with their guttural snores, letting Squirrel and his friends pass through their camp unnoticed. A while later, a flutter of dark wings forced them all to duck into a shrubbery. It turned out to be a family of sparrows in traveling cloaks migrating for the summer.

  It was only when they found the river station, rented the Gavial Raft, and set off down the river did Squirrel relax. He let his eyes flit from Akbar to Bobby to Cheska to Smitten to Azulfa to Lady Blouse to Des, and he felt something warm and soothing, like piping hot milk, run through his arteries. Up until now he had not realized how very lost he had been, how very alone he had been . . .

  “So what news from home? I feel like I’ve been away for an entire season!” said Des, picking at a sunburned patch of fur on his leg.

  “There’s been one juicy piece of drama at the Wagamutt. You remember Leggy Lex? She apparently ran away to join a visiting circus as an acrobat. Her parents are rabid with rage. Oh, and a family of rabbits has moved in down the road from us, but no one can make out a thing they say. They talk real funny,” chatted Akbar.

  “Oh, and Squirrel, everyone’s been talking about the fact that since you disappeared, Bacchu has been delivering the PetPost Mail himself and he is very grumpy about it! No one else will work for him. No one can stand his tantrums. It’s still hard to believe that you tolerated him for so long.”

  “I had to. I was . . .” Squirrel shook his head. “I still am the PetPost slave. Since I probably won’t find the key, it looks like I’ll be the PetPost slave for quite a while longer. I’ll have to go back to Bacchu and beg him for forgiveness. If he reports me to the governors of Bimmau . . .”

  “Actually, you don’t have to. If you want to escape the PetPost, this is your best chance, Squirrel,” said Bobby. “Bacchu—and all of Bimmau, for that matter—think that you fell into the mangrove and drowned at Cheska and Smitten’s wedding.”

  Squirrel gulped. “Oops,” he managed with a small smile. Since he had started his quest for freedom, Squirrel had not seriously thought of not returning to Bimmau. He could probably move to Darling. But, for some reason, it did not feel right at all.

  “I don’t think I’ll run away,” said Squirrel. “I’ll go back. Even as the PetPost slave. I must face the consequences of my actions.” Squirrel knew he had to go back. Suddenly the purpose of his quest had changed. He had to find the key and keep it safe. He had to protect his mother’s secret.

  “I think that is a good idea, Squirrel,” said Smitten. “Even though it may be hard, we’ll try to find your name and get your freedom somehow.”

  “Yes, we will,” said Cheska. “And, Des, you won’t believe it. Mom and Dad have been offered a formal invitation to the Pawshine with a handwritten note from Don Dane himself. Who thought that day would come? All at Baron Dyer’s prodding, of course.”

  “I’m so sorry about it,” said Smitten, going red. “I sometimes wish Uncle would mind his own business just a tiny bit.” Then he added, “Speaking of minding other people’s business, I have some news that concerns you, Des.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, I don’t know if you know this, but last season the Pedipurr’s councillors changed. The new cats in charge have started the Diversity Directive. Basically, from now on they’re allowing third-generation members to sponsor one animal to attend the Pedipurr School.” He paused. “I thought I might sponsor you?”

  “Why would I want to go to the Pedipurr School? Isn’t the Wagamutt Pound good ’nuff? I don’t know anyone at the Pedipurr!” said Des.

  Cheska said, “You’ll have
access to so much, Des. You’ll get to take part in such wonderful activities. You’ll learn a lot.”

  “Not to mention the fact that you will be able to do anything you want when you come out of it,” said Bobby, pushing his glasses up his nose.

  “What do you think, Akbar?” Des asked.

  Squirrel watched as the Alsatian shrugged, pulling at his old T-shirt. “Well, you know how I feel about all these high-society shindigs. Gimme a good ol’ mug of mead with my boys at the Wagamutt any day over a stuffy apricot wine-drinking soiree . . . no offense,” he said, looking at Smitten and Lady Blouse. “But the bone in the meat is, Des, that you’ll learn much more at the Pedipurr. It’s a great opportunity. Plus the Pedipurr kittens are known to be the best looking,” he added with his roguish grin.

  “Well, in that case,” said Des, his face brightening, “I think I might just consider it.”

  As Squirrel heard this conversation, he felt his chest compress with an unfamiliar emotion. It was as though his lungs were being pushed against each other and his intestines were rolling into knots.

  It took a moment for Squirrel to realize that he was jealous. He was jealous of Des’s family—of so many people watching out for him and caring about him. He was jealous of Des being able to go to the best school. And most of all, he was jealous of Des moving on and finding new friends. And eventually forgetting about him.

  “I wish I could go to the Pedipurr . . . or any school,” said Squirrel. As soon as he had said it, he hoped it sounded like a joke. But he knew the longing rang out clearly in his voice.

  “Dahling, don’t fret. I can sponsor you!”

  “You can?” Squirrel asked, looking at Lady Blouse with shock.

  “I’m Lady Blouse. I’d be happy to—” But before she could complete her sentence, Des hollered loudly. “YIP-woof-woof-EEE!” barked Des, punching Squirrel’s shoulder. “Just imagine that, Squirrel! The two of us together at the Pedipurr. How fantastic! We can tell stories about our adventures to all the pretty kitties. “ ’Bout the Bone Tomb, ’bout escaping Wipsara, ’bout beating the camel at Making Family. We’ll be the bad boys of the Pedipurr. And you know how all the cute kittens secretly love the bad boys!”