A Dog Called Jack

by Ivy Pembroke

  “Hey, I’m blaming you for however that pie turns out,” said Sam.

  Max shrugged.

  Sam turned back to Bill. “Come to Thanksgiving. Really. We’re going to decorate the Christmas tree.”

  “Finally, your house will cease to be the black hole of no-Christmas cheer,” remarked Max.

  “It’s not a black hole of no-Christmas cheer. We are going to unleash all of the Christmas cheer at the proper time,” Sam said loftily.

  Teddy came in and said, “Hi, Dad. Hi, Max. Hi, Mr. Hammersley.”

  They all said hi back and Sam said, “How was school?”

  “Our play is so great,” Teddy said enthusiastically. “Pari got to act out her scene today, and she was amazing. She talks all about insurance, and it’s so dramatic. She even goes like this at the end.” Teddy struck a pose, head thrown back and the back of his hand against his forehead, like he was about to faint.

  “That’s exactly what Arthur looks like when he talks about insurance,” Max said, and then frowned a little bit at the mention of Arthur.

  Teddy said, “What are you doing?” looking curiously at the mess Max had made.

  “Making a pie,” Max answered.

  “We should probably just buy pastry,” suggested Teddy.

  “O ye of little faith,” said Max.

  “He’s always of little faith,” said Sam. “He’s a doubter. Always dubious, with the expertise of a Year 4 student.”

  Teddy shrugged and said, “I’m going to go play Mass Extinction Event.”

  “Sounds uplifting,” remarked Max.

  “Exactly,” said Sam. “What about homework?” he called after Teddy.

  “Let me make something extinct first!” Teddy called back.

  * * *

  Sam let Max knead and roll at the mess he’d made of the dough and looked at the time and eventually said, “You know, you can’t avoid Arthur forever.”

  “I’m not avoiding him,” Max said.

  “Did you two have a row?” Mr. Hammersley asked. “You should buy him flowers.”

  Max gave him a dry look. “Are you dispensing relationship advice now?”

  Mr. Hammersley shrugged. “Always worked for me. And I was married for forty-seven years. That’s nothing to sneeze at.”

  Diya Basak knocked on the back door, and Sam opened it for her. At the same instant, Jack came bounding up at a dead run, tripping over his own paws in that way he had.

  Diya flinched and said, “Get control of your dog.”

  “Shh, Jack,” Sam said to him. “Take it easy.”

  “I’m here to take Pari home,” Diya said. “She’s had her ridiculous strop, but now I have to go to a friend’s house and her father almost has dinner on the table.”

  “Pari?” Sam echoed blankly. “Pari’s not here.”

  Diya said, “What? She must be here. She went running out of the house.”

  “Teddy!” Sam called up the stairs, going over to the foot of them. Jack kept barking and bouncing, almost tripping him now. “Quiet,” Sam told him. “Calm down.”

  “Yeah?” Teddy called down, and then appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hi, Jack.”

  Jack barked at him.

  “Pari’s not up there with you, right?” Sam said.

  Teddy looked confused. “What? No. She’s not here. We walked home from school together but then she went to her house. Why?”

  Sam glanced back at Diya.

  Who looked annoyed.

  “She must be hiding outside somewhere,” said Diya. “She’s probably trying to prove a point.” Diya turned around and shouted into the darkness that was gathering thickly all around them. “Pari! You’ve proved your point! Come out now!”

  Sam peered out into the darkness with Diya. Nothing moved, except for leaves being scattered by the brisk wind that was blowing. And Jack, who ran in circles around the pavement, barking furiously.

  “Pari!” Diya shouted, and then said, “She must be in our garden. I’ll just go and check.”

  Sam watched her walk back to her house.

  Max said, “That . . . doesn’t sound good.”

  * * *

  “Pari!” shouted Diya, in her otherwise still and silent back garden. She was letting herself be angry, because if she stopped being angry she would have to be worried. “Stop this at once and come out right now!”

  Nothing moved. On the street, Diya could hear that dog still barking.

  Darsh came to the door and said, “What are you doing?”

  And then Diya had to admit it. “I’m looking for Pari.”

  “Why?” asked Sai from behind Darsh. “Where is she?”

  “Why isn’t she home?” asked Darsh.

  “I thought she went next door, but she didn’t,” said Diya, and now she was starting to really fret. “Call for her. She’ll listen to you—she’s angry with me.”

  Darsh gave her a curious look and then stepped out into the back garden with her. “Pari! Come home now! I’ve made your favorite for dinner.”

  Silence still, all around them. Except for that stupid dog on the street.

  “Pari!” Darsh shouted again.

  “Where is she?” Sai asked from the house. “Do you think she’s been, like, kidnapped or something?”

  “No, she hasn’t been kidnapped,” Diya snapped automatically, even as the idea settled heavily in her stomach. Pari had been so upset, and Diya had been making rogan josh and had barely even looked up, and what if that was the last time . . . ? No, it couldn’t be the last time—she was being silly. Pari was just sulking somewhere—

  “Diya, why did you say Pari was angry with you?” Darsh asked.

  “I think . . . She wanted that ridiculous street dog to be in her class play and I told her that was a horrible idea and I was going to talk to her teacher about it but it wasn’t—”

  “Mum,” Sai said. “She loves that dog so much. She was so excited about that. Why would you say that?”

  “Because it is a ridiculous idea,” Diya said shrilly, hysterically, “and I was busy making rogan josh for Anika’s niece’s—”

  “Of course you were,” muttered Sai, and Diya’s stomach plummeted even further. “We need to go look for Pari.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Darsh said. “We’ll find her. She can’t have gone far.”

  “But what if we can’t find her?” Diya asked. “What if she really has been kidnapped? What have I done?” Why hadn’t she run after her, why hadn’t she looked at her to realize how upset Pari had been?

  “We’ll find her,” Darsh said. “Let’s go.”

  Diya collected herself enough to follow him and Sai out of the house, pressing her hand against her mouth because otherwise she felt like she might have to scream with fear and worry. Her daughter was missing—missing—had run away, all because she had been making rogan josh. What was she doing? The street dog was still running in circles on the street, barking. Pen, clearly on her way out for a run, and Arthur, clearly just coming home from work, were both standing looking at him curiously.

  “Hello,” Pen said cheerfully as they approached. “There’s something wrong with Jack. Maybe the squirrels have finally driven him mad.”

  Darsh said, “We’re looking for Pari—”

  “We’ve lost her!” Diya interjected, because she wanted to get the important point across. “She’s missing!”

  “What?” said Pen, sounding concerned.

  “She ran away because I wouldn’t listen to her,” said Diya, wiping away furiously at her tears, because those weren’t going to help, “and now we have to find her before anything horrible happens to her, and how do we even start—”

  Darsh put a hand on her shoulder and Pen came up to her and took her hands and said, “We’ll all help. Of course. We’ll fan out and canvass the streets.”

  Arthur said, his mobile already to his ear, “I’m ringing the police.”

  Diya was dimly aware, through the haze of her panic, that Sam and Max and
Mr. Hammersley and Teddy had stepped out of the Bishop house, and that Emilia had stepped out of the Pachuta house, and she felt like they were all staring at her and judging her for making her child run away, but they were also saying things like, “Yes. Yes. Of course. We’ll help.”

  “We’ll take Jack,” Teddy said suddenly. “Jack probably knows where she is.”

  “How would Jack know?” asked Darsh, sounding bewildered.

  “He spends a lot of time with Pari. He probably knows her smell. Dogs are good with smells.”

  “Jack’s not that kind of dog,” Darsh said, sounding dubious. “I think we’d be better off just—”

  Teddy broke away from the knot of men in his front door and came into the street and crouched down beside the dog. He looked very seriously into the animal’s eyes and said, “Jack, can you help us find Pari?”

  And the dog barked once, then took off down the street, with his ridiculous stumbling run that made him look comical. He did not look at all like a serious rescue dog to Diya and yet, at the same time, she found herself taking off after him.

  “Diya!” Darsh shouted after her.

  But Diya didn’t stop. Diya couldn’t stop. Diya had to find Pari and make sure she was okay and make sure she knew how much she was loved. Diya couldn’t believe Pari could have felt otherwise, could have run away.

  The dog ran for what seemed to Diya like a long time, but Diya hadn’t run anywhere in a while, and by the time the dog turned down a particular street, barking wildly, Diya was holding a hand to her side and gasping for breath.

  But there was Pari, huddled into a ball in the corner of a bus shelter, shivering and cold. She said, confused, “Jack?” as the dog bounded up to her and licked her face, and then, sounding even more confused, “Mum?”

  And Diya fell on her and pulled her against her and she was cold, so cold, and Diya said, “Oh, Pari. Oh, Pari. What were you thinking?”

  “You noticed?” said Pari against her. “You noticed I was gone?”

  “Oh, Pari,” said Diya, and held her tighter and tighter, and the street dog came and licked her face.

  * * *

  Diya tucked Pari into bed. Pari seemed absolutely fine, like it hadn’t been an ordeal at all, and in fact seemed to be enjoying being the center of attention. But Diya couldn’t stop fussing. She couldn’t stop reliving Pari cuddling into her, her voice full of wonder at her absence being noticed.

  Pari said, “Do you think we’ll be in the news?”

  Diya said, trying to be brusque, “No.”

  “The police were here. We’ll probably be on the news.”

  The police had been there, briefly, because Arthur had called them. Diya doubted it would make the news.

  But she looked down at Pari, shining-eyed with this adventure, and Diya felt like she was actually seeing her for the first time. Her daughter, who liked all of these adventures, who wanted a dog in the school play, who was so excited about her school play.

  Diya looked at Pari and said, “Tell me about the play.”

  Pari told her all about the play, and climate change, and the insurance agent, and Jack’s starring role. “And you can’t say anything bad about Jack anymore; he found me,” she finished solemnly.

  Diya smoothed a hand over Pari’s hair and marveled at her and said, “Yes. He did.”

  “It was a good thing Jack was there,” said Pari wisely. “A good job Jack is our street dog.”

  “A good job Jack is our street dog,” Diya agreed.

  Pari bounced with delight at Diya’s statement.

  * * *

  “Pari ran away,” Emilia announced, as soon as Anna walked through the door.

  Anna, focused entirely on getting out of the clothes she’d been wearing all day, getting into pajamas, curling up with her camomile tea and Socks and Tabby, said wearily, “What? Who?”

  “The little girl,” Emilia explained impatiently, “who lives next door. Ran away. We all had to go looking for her. The police came and everything.”

  Now Emilia had Anna’s full attention. “Did they find her?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine now, but it was super-scary.”

  “You went out looking for her?” Anna said, going back to that detail. “At night? By yourself? Wasn’t it dangerous?”

  Emilia gave her a look. “Mum. They’re our neighbors. Shouldn’t we help them when they need it? Wouldn’t you want them to help you if I’d gone missing?”

  Anna looked at Emilia and felt like a terrible person. What was wrong with her that she was so heartless? She said, “Yes. Yes, I absolutely would. And I should go and see Diya Basak. See how she’s holding up. I should . . . take her soup, or something.”

  “Do we have soup?” asked Emilia quizzically.

  “I don’t know. We must have something.” Anna opened a cupboard and looked into it, shifting through random boxes. She pulled out a box of pasta and said, “I could make pasta, I guess.”

  * * *

  Diya stood and looked at the rogan josh that she had prepared to take to Anika’s niece’s friend’s mother’s house. It felt like that had been a lifetime ago.

  Darsh said, “Who was the rogan josh for?”

  Diya answered, feeling almost hysterical, “I don’t know. I actually don’t know.”

  Before Darsh could ask her anything further, there was a knock on the door, and Diya took the opportunity to collect herself and answer it.

  Anna Pachuta was there, holding a casserole dish.

  Diya forced a bright smile on her face and said, “Hello, Anna. How nice of you to come by.”

  “I brought some pasta,” said Anna, indicating the casserole dish she was holding. “I thought you might . . .I don’t know, I heard what happened, and I thought maybe you might . . .be in need of some company for a cuppa.”

  It was ridiculous, Diya thought, staring at Anna. Because they had never been friends. Why would she want Anna there for a cuppa? And at the same time, she suddenly did want the company, because then maybe she could . . . take a breath, and find a way to think of the whole evening without panic.

  “That’s so lovely,” Diya said. “Won’t you come in?”

  Darsh greeted Anna politely and then excused himself to go upstairs to check on Pari.

  Diya set about making tea.

  Anna said, a little awkward-sounding, “How’s Pari?”

  Diya said, “She’s fine, thankfully. She’s just fine.”

  And then Anna said, “How are you?”

  And Diya kind of crumpled a little bit. She stared at the teacups in front of her and said, “I . . . I don’t know. I’m . . . My daughter ran away from home today. She ran away.” Diya braved a look over at Anna.

  Who didn’t look disapproving or even pitying. Anna looked so exhausted that Diya felt all of her emotions mirrored. Anna said, “She came back. She’s fine. She’s okay.”

  “But . . .” Diya began, feeling helpless.

  “Being a mother can feel like such an impossible task,” Anna said. “Being . . . everything.”

  And Diya came and sank down into the chair opposite Anna. “Exactly. There’s . . . so much, every day, that needs to get done. And who’s going to do it, if not you? It’s not going to happen magically.”

  “I know,” Anna agreed, and they lapsed into a comfortable and thoughtful silence. After a moment, Anna ventured, “I’m just saying . . . we can’t be perfect. We can only do our best. And learn. I guess.”

  “Yeah,” Diya said, and thought again of Pari, curling into her, happy to be noticed. Learning, she thought. The best she could do was learn. “It’s funny,” she mused, “I feel like I forgot, for a little while, just how much you can learn from the people you love.”

  “The people you love,” echoed Anna. “Yeah.”

  * * *

  Anna, curled up with chamomile tea in the bed, cats purring next to her, was supposed to be reading but was really staring at the dark sky outside the bedroom window without really seeing it, thinking h
ard about the conversation with Diya, about being home, about life.

  Marcel came into the bedroom and looked a little surprised. “Hello,” he said, not unpleasantly. “You’re awake.”

  “I’m awake,” she said, and wondered when she had started to be asleep more often than not when Marcel got home. When had they fallen into that habit? She thought of . . . staying still. Of using her time and energy, maybe, more on the people she loved. And looking at Marcel, as he took off his watch and ruffled at his hair, she thought how, amazingly, she did still love him. It had been so long since she had had that thought. It felt as if it had been years since she had actually looked at Marcel. Be with someone long enough, and it became like failing to appreciate that you could breathe the air around you, thought Anna. Maybe you didn’t appreciate it until you tried not to breathe for a little while.

  Anna said, “How was work?”

  Marcel, on his way into the ensuite, paused and looked at her. He looked as surprised that she was speaking to him as he had been to find her awake. Had it really been that long since they’d had a conversation? “It was good,” said Marcel, and turned fully away from the ensuite to face her. “Long, as usual. How was it for you?”

  She made room for him on the bed. It disturbed the cats but it was worth it when Marcel accepted the wordless invitation.

  “Also long,” said Anna. “And then I came home to hear that Pari Basak ran away from home.”

  “I know,” said Marcel. “Mad story, that, isn’t it? Glad it turned out okay.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Emilia rang me. To tell me she was running out to help search.”

  “I wonder why she didn’t ring me,” mused Anna.

  “She probably wasn’t sure you’d let her,” replied Marcel, giving Anna a knowing look. “You can be a bit . . . protective, shall we say?”

  Which Anna had to admit. She sighed and said, “I know, and I don’t know why I let myself get . . .” She looked at Marcel, swallowed thickly, and told the truth. “I think I envy Diya Basak. With too much on her plate but a little less than me. Staying home all day. Being able to afford staying home all day.”

  “Anna.” Marcel reached out and took the hand not cradling her cup of tea. “I keep telling you that we could—”