Jehan and the Quest of the Lost Dog

by Rosanne Hawke

  He reached out a hand. ‘I won’t hurt you, girl.’

  The dog stopped panting to sniff Jehan’s fingers, then licked them. She seemed used to humans – not a feral dog. She had been wounded, though.

  ‘Poor girl,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a rough time in the flood and you’re all alone like me.’ Jehan patted her back. ‘Jump in.’

  But the dog wouldn’t move. Jehan had to half-lift, half-drag her toward the bath. She growled and Jehan stopped.

  ‘Ao. Don’t you want something to eat? Maybe we can catch a chuha, a rat for you.’

  The dog looked up at him, her head tilted to the side.

  ‘Ji, a chuha,’ Jehan repeated.

  The dog moved closer and sniffed the bath.

  Jehan grinned as she put both paws on the rim. Then she jumped in. The bath wobbled so wildly that the cricket bat pulled out of the mud. Jehan grabbed it and waited for the bath to balance. Then he shoved away from the island until they drifted into deeper water. He paddled. ‘Left. Right. Left. Right.’

  The dog whined and turned around to look over the edge. The bath lurched. Jehan leaned to the opposite side to right it.

  ‘Hie, you have to be still. Batto! Sit!’

  The dog obediently sat.

  ‘Accha, good.’

  It was easier returning because the current pushed them. Jehan just had to grab a branch as they passed under his mango tree and secure the bath again.

  He lifted the dog up to the charpai, then jumped up himself. The charpai creaked under the strain of their combined weight, but Jehan knew it would hold since the dog was no heavier than Amir.

  He patted the dog and gave her some water from a pomegranate skin. Then he checked her injury. A cut spread from the top of her head to her right ear, but it had stopped bleeding.

  ‘It will heal,’ he said, like his mother would.

  He noticed the dog’s thin brown leather collar. It was homemade and a name had been burned into it.

  ‘L, A, L, I,’ he spelt. ‘Lali. I bet that’s because you’re a reddish colour. My brother, Amir, wanted a dog just like you.’

  Lali lifted her head to look at him.

  ‘Welcome to my home.’ Tears welled in his eyes. It felt good not to be alone.

  She looked at him with such misery in her eyes that Jehan’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Have you lost your family?’

  Lali whimpered.

  ‘I lost my family, too. Amir and Abu and Ummie. They must be wondering where I am.’

  The dog put her head on her paws.

  ‘When I was sad my ummie told me stories. Some were funny. Shall I tell you one about a smart jackal? It’s Amir’s favourite.’

  Lali gave a short bark. So Jehan told her the story of the dangerous tiger who fooled a man to let him out of a wooden cage. The tiger was about to eat the man, but a jackal came and tricked the tiger back into the cage.

  ‘Are you as clever as that jackal, Lali?’

  She licked his hand and Jehan lay beside her. It felt good to have her warmth surround him. He wasn’t frightened of the monkeys or snakes. No rats would chew his ears. It made him feel as if he were home with Amir.

  The next morning when Jehan woke, Lali was gone.

  In a panic he climbed to the top of the tree and searched for her. All he could see was the brownish expanse of floodwater. The island in the distance was empty. She must have felt well enough to swim away. What if he never saw her again? He didn’t think he could bear it.

  He tried to keep busy. He scratched another mark on the charpai – there were now twelve. He fished out a shawl from the floodwater. When he hung it to dry he found a mango, so he sat on the branch to eat it.

  Then he looked out at the water. His heart jumped when he saw a dark spot. Was it Lali?

  He held his breath as it grew bigger and bigger. It looked like a boat! The first he’d seen since the flood!

  He scrambled up the tree with his ripped razai and waved it from the topmost branch. But as he watched, the boat disappeared. Then he heard a noise like a machine in the distance. He checked the sky. A helicopter! He waved the razai again and even shouted, but it was too far away. Soon it became a speck in the sky before disappearing altogether.

  Jehan couldn’t help himself – he wept and wept. Just like Amir used to when he didn’t want to come inside. Would he ever see his family again?

  After a while, Jehan became aware of the monkeys chattering in the trees around him. There were more than usual. Jehan climbed down to the charpai where he felt safer. It had been so much better when Lali was here.

  Later that day, Jehan decided to go out in the bath to find Lali. Then they could search for his family together. Perhaps he could even find that boat he saw. He hung his razai on a branch, picked up his stick and the cricket-bat paddle and set off.

  Even though the flood flowed more slowly, it was still a struggle paddling across the current.

  He passed a tree with debris caught in its submerged branches: short planks of wood, a ball and a coil of wire. He scooped them up and noticed four cans bobbing beside him. He pulled them in with his stick and grabbed them. No labels, but two had rings to pull the lids open! He ripped the lid off one and took a sip. ‘Mmm.’ It was milk – he gulped down the lot.

  ‘Hoi!’

  Jehan jumped at the voice. He turned and saw a man approaching in a boat coloured with stripes. The man pushed it along using a pole.

  ‘What are you doing?’ The man looked at the tin bath and frowned. ‘Is that safe?’

  Jehan stayed silent. He wasn’t sure what words were best for this stranger. He was the first person Jehan had seen in two weeks. He had dark rings under his eyes. Was he a good man? Jehan’s mother had always said to never go anywhere with a stranger, but this was an emergency. ‘I need to find my family, janab,’ Jehan said. ‘Can you help me?’

  The man considered Jehan but he didn’t answer.

  Jehan frowned. ‘Have you heard of a man named Akram Masih?’

  The man shook his head. ‘Maybe I can take you somewhere.’

  Suddenly Jehan wasn’t certain. What did the man mean by ‘somewhere’?

  Jehan held out the tins he wouldn’t be able to open, and the ball. He even took off his colourful hat. ‘You can sell these. Do you have food?’ He hoped the man would see Jehan could be useful to him without having to take him.

  The man stared at him, thinking.

  Jehan waited, holding his breath. What if the man forced him to go with him?

  Then the man sighed. ‘I can’t afford to do this. I have children of my own to feed.’ He took the tins. ‘You can keep your hat and ball.’

  The man took so long deciding what to give in return that Jehan thought he would give nothing. He finally handed Jehan a small bunch of bananas and a few chapattis. ‘Be careful and look after yourself.’

  ‘Shukriya,’ Jehan said. ‘Thank you, janab.’

  Jehan watched the man steer his boat away until a tree shielded him from view. He had never met someone who hesitated to help another. Had the flood caused the man to lose his kindness?

  Jehan paddled the bath slowly toward his mango tree. He felt too weary to continue searching for Lali and his family. The flood was so huge it seemed impossible. All he wanted to do was to lay on his charpai.

  But on the way Jehan heard squawking and clucking from behind a tree. What a noise! He paddled closer and the bath bumped the edge of a dirt mound. Behind it, caught in broken branches, was a small wooden cage shaped like the arch of a mosque. Inside, a little black hen stared at him, her head to one side.

  ‘Squawk,’ she said.

  Beside her feet on soggy straw was an egg. Jehan salivated.

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  He reached over and picked up the cage by its handle. ‘You can come home
with me.’ He settled it in the bath and the hen fluffed her feathers with a cluck that sounded like ‘kookidi’. ‘My grandmother used to call hens “kookidi”, but I will call you Kooki.’

  Jehan pushed the bath away from the mound. ‘You’ll have to stay in the cage, Kooki. I live with a dog …’ He hesitated, hoping fervently that Lali would return. ‘If she’s there she’ll eat you for dinner.’

  When Jehan drew close to his tree he heard the monkeys screeching so loudly it sounded like they were performing in a circus, or having a fight.

  He secured the bath and looked up to see what was going on. That was when he saw a gap in the branches where the charpai had been. It was gone! His heart plummeted to his middle. The charpai was his link to home. He turned and saw four wooden legs floating away in the floodwater. Two monkeys sat on top of the upside-down charpai, shrieking. Jehan would never be able to catch it.

  Dazed, he climbed onto the first branch and hung Kooki’s cage on it. The monkeys screeched at him. He raised the stick and growled back. The biggest snapped its teeth together, then they retreated up the tree.

  Jehan inspected the damage. The rope that had been securing the charpai had been undone, another chewed through. And the cloth he was sleeping on was gone. But he still had his own torn razai that he’d shared with Amir. He pulled it off the branch and buried his face in it. He knew monkeys could cause mischief but this was so mean and unfair. Where would he sleep now?

  Lali’s head felt better and her scent was returning, but she still couldn’t find her pups. She had to keep trying. Her pups would be hungry. She swam all morning but couldn’t find her roof or see the chimney smoke. Now the big-water and the trees smelled the same.

  Lali stood on a log and howled. Would she be able to find her pups in time?

  She sat and thought of Beti. If she could find Beti she would help. Thinking of Beti reminded her of the two-legger boy. He smelled kind but sad. Lali knew he was alone and he was just a pup. He still needed a mother to catch food for him and protect him from the long-tails. He couldn’t even snarl or swim.

  She jumped into the big-water and headed for the boy’s tree. She saw a two-legger in a boat much bigger than the boy’s. She sniffed. Swimmers. This two-legger had a long stick, too, and a net, but hunger overcame her fear.

  She leaped up, grabbed a swimmer hanging over the edge of the boat and fell back into the water.

  The two-legger shouted and tried to hit Lali with his stick. This time she was faster.

  She swam back to the boy. He would like the swimmer.

  ‘Oh, Lali,’ Jehan cried. ‘It’s been days. I thought you’d left me.’

  Lali was balancing on the lowest branch, soaking wet, a fish in her mouth. She wagged her tail.

  ‘I’m sorry we don’t have the charpai anymore. I’ve been sleeping in the bath, but now I’m making a platform.’ He had already fastened the planks of wood he’d found across the branches where the charpai had been. But he’d used the wire this time. That would be harder for monkeys to undo.

  ‘Ao.’ He patted the plank beside him. Lali jumped up, dropped the fish by Jehan and shook herself.

  ‘Hei! Lali, you’re wetting me! Good thing I’m feeling hot.’ He hugged her around the neck and laughed.

  ‘Squawk!’ Kooki shook her feathers and tried to fly, but her head hit the top of her cage.

  ‘We have a hen now, too. It’s okay, Kooki. Lali won’t eat you, just your eggs.’

  Lali put her head to one side and stared at the cage swinging from the branch.

  Jehan patted Lali. ‘How did you catch a machli?’

  She opened her mouth and grinned at him. That’s what it looked like to Jehan.

  ‘I have something for you also. I saw a man in a boat.’ Jehan reached into his plastic bag and pulled out a chapatti and the ball. ‘I’ve got bananas as well, but I don’t want the monkeys to steal those.’ He patted his side where he had hidden them under the razai.

  Just then a monkey dropped onto the branch above them. It reached for the chapatti. Jehan flapped his arms about, but the monkey didn’t budge.

  Lali snarled and it swung away.

  Jehan hugged her. ‘Shukriya, thank you for coming back and for the machli, but how can we cook it?’ He popped a piece of chapatti into Kooki’s cage. She pecked at it with contented clucks.

  Lali licked her lips and nuzzled the fish. She looked up at him.

  ‘We have to eat it raw?’ Occasionally his father had caught a fish in the river, but they had never eaten it uncooked. Right now Jehan didn’t care. It would help him grow strong enough to find Amir and his parents.

  Lali took a bite and nudged the fish toward him.

  Jehan stared at her. He knew it was dangerous to take food from dogs when they were eating. But Lali nudged it again.

  ‘Teik hai.’ Jehan picked up the fish and put it in his mouth. But his teeth weren’t good at ripping like Lali’s. He couldn’t even take a bite. He almost cried as he gave it back to her.

  Lali tore off a piece and dropped it on the plank. Jehan didn’t need any more encouragement. He grabbed it and shoved it in his mouth. Then spat out a bone.

  Soon the fish was gone. Lali even swallowed his leftover bones. Then they ate the chapatti.

  Without warning, Lali stood up. The branch dipped as she jumped into the water. She swam around the tree and back to the platform. She barked at him.

  ‘Do you want to play, Lali?’

  She barked again, just once.

  ‘But I can’t swim.’

  She looked at him as if he were a baby. He didn’t like it. He slid down to a branch resting on the water. Lali jumped onto the branch, too. It bounced and Jehan couldn’t keep his balance. He scrabbled, trying to grab the tree as he fell backward. There were no underwater branches to catch him. He sank like a grinding stone.

  Instantly, Lali was underneath him, pushing him up until he could hold the branch again. She paddled around him as he gasped for breath.

  ‘Why’d you do that, Lali? I could have drowned!’

  She swam up behind and poked him with her nose. It wasn’t gentle. It felt like his mother pushing him outside to deal with the goats. He stared at Lali in doubt. He had tried to swim in the canal at home and that was fun. And if he could swim he wouldn’t need to worry if the bath overturned.

  With a deep breath, Jehan let go of the branch and sank into the water. He tried to move his arms like Lali moved her front legs and he actually moved forward!

  He tried again and again, being careful to keep his mouth closed. When he sank Lali was always there to lift him. Once she even grabbed him around the neck with her jaws to pull him to the surface. He made sure he kept his head above water after that.

  Finally, Jehan could paddle like Lali although not as fast.

  ‘Wah, I can swim!’

  Lali jumped onto the platform, picked up the ball and dropped it to Jehan. She dived in splashing his face. ‘Hoi, Lali, what a show-off.’

  He threw the ball and she swam around him catching it every time.

  That night Jehan remembered more stories that his parents told after delicious curries and warm chapattis. ‘This is a story for Kooki about a tota, a Pakistani parrot that could talk and flew on a winged horse with a king to find a princess.’ A flying horse would help him find his family. He sighed. Lali must have a family. They should find them, too.

  Lali was gone again when Jehan woke, but this time he didn’t worry. He knew she would return.

  He sat up and stretched his back. This morning he would try to catch a fish. He twisted a piece of wire until it broke off. Then he fashioned a hook and attached it to his stick. He put a piece of chapatti on the hook and lowered it into the water.

  His stomach made gurgling noises as he thought about food. He stared into the distance. More trees were showing above the wate
r now. One not so far away looked strange. He squinted. It looked white! Why would a tree be white? Silkworm thread? That would mean mulberries.

  Suddenly Kooki squawked at him. He pulled up the stick. The chapatti was gone.

  ‘Let’s eat the last banana instead, Kooki.’ He took it out of the plastic bag, ate two-thirds of it, then put the rest with the skin in Kooki’s cage.

  He stroked Kooki’s chest with his finger and she crooned. ‘We need more to eat,’ he said, ‘so I’ll check out that white tree.’

  Dog paddling would strengthen his arms for steering the bath, but the tree was too far to swim and he’d rather Lali was there to help. He rowed the bath instead. The tree looked promising, but Jehan wasn’t sure. He’d never seen a mulberry tree like it.

  He climbed onto the first branch and something sticky clung to his head. He tried to brush it off but it stuck to his hand. When he looked up he almost lost his grip. Each branch looked like it was wrapped in the fine silk dupattas his mother liked to wear. The tree was a mass of white webs! From the corner of his eye he saw a movement, and slowly turned around. A big, black shape edged toward him through the white gauze. Then another.

  Spiders!

  Imagine if they were so hungry they attacked him like an army.

  ‘So you spiders don’t like the flood either,’ he murmured.

  Keeping his eyes on the spiders, Jehan gently lowered himself into the bath. Could spiders swim? He hoped the reason they were in the tree was proof they didn’t. Then he noticed thousands of mosquitoes wrapped in the webs. Perhaps the spiders weren’t hungry for him after all. But he rowed away just in case.

  Lali was back when he returned to his tree. She couldn’t stand still and she whimpered.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

  Lali jumped into the bath, almost overturning it. She opened her mouth and her tongue lolled out. Then she faced the direction from where the flood first came.