Naveed Read online

  ‘Right,’ Jake says when they’re less than a metre apart. ‘Time for our dogs to meet. You keep yours there and I’ll let mine approach.’

  Stingray is really tugging on his leash now, but strangely enough Nasera is not, much to Naveed’s relief; he doubts he could hold her back if she really did pull hard. Instead she stands erect and alert, looking quite regal, her stare fixed on the other dog as his master allows him to creep closer.

  It is a tense moment for Jake and Naveed as the dogs come nose to nose and begin smelling each other. The tension grows as Stingray is allowed to move along Nasera’s side, both dogs sniffing intently, their tails stiff, the hair standing up along their backs. But then, when they’ve eventually nosed each other all over, they both start wagging their tails.

  ‘Well I never,’ Jake says, shaking his head. ‘I haven’t seen anything like that before. Instant friends. It’s amazing.’ He offers his hand to Naveed. ‘Congratulations, and good to see you again.’ They shake, Naveed beaming with pride.

  ‘Mr Jake, please,’ he says. ‘I want you meet my family. This way, I beg you.’

  Jake doesn’t want to stay away from the base for too much longer, but he also doesn’t want to offend his young friend.

  ‘With pleasure,’ he replies and follows Naveed.

  As they cross the park, Jake cannot help but notice a definite change in Stingray. The dog has become completely calm and relaxed, not at all nervous of the noises around him now. He’s perfectly happy to pace along beside Nasera, his ball in his mouth. And when they reach Naveed’s family, Stingray simply sits to one side with Nasera, as though they’ve known each other forever. Jake is delighted.

  ‘Please, my good friend,’ Naveed says to Jake.

  He is beaming more than ever, his white teeth sparkling. Lined up behind him are several people – a woman and two girls, and a man standing slightly apart.

  ‘My mother,’ Naveed continues, touching the woman lightly, the affection unmistakable in his voice. ‘She is glue of family. Without her we nothing.’

  The woman nods to Jake and then lowers her gaze.

  ‘My little sister Anoosheh.’

  The smaller of the two girls stands partly behind her mother, but Jake can see that she’s on crutches. When she hobbles forward he catches his breath.

  ‘Thank you, brother,’ she says, grinning cheekily at Naveed. ‘I only little sister because someone stole my legs.’ She turns her smile on Jake, who laughs.

  ‘And this Pari,’ Naveed says, ignoring his sister. ‘Friend of Anoosheh.’

  Pari dips her head respectfully at Jake, smiles briefly and turns her eyes to the ground.

  ‘And this,’ Naveed continues, introducing Mr Omaid. ‘Very kind man who look after me when I have trouble. Mr Omaid.’

  ‘Salaam alaikum,’ Mr Omaid says.

  ‘Wa alaikum as-salaam,’ Jake replies, hoping he’s said it the right way. ‘To all of you.’

  Jake looks around at these people – the boy he met in the minefield, and his family and friends – and feels drawn to them, in much the same way that Stingray seems drawn to the boy’s dog. There is something soft and gentle, warm and friendly and real about them. He knows he can’t stay away from the base for much longer without his absence causing alarm. But when he’s asked to join them for chai he really cannot say no.

  The mother and the man say very little, either from modesty or lack of English, or both; Jake can’t tell. But Naveed’s sister talks enough for all of them, waving her hands around to illustrate her point when she cannot find the English words.

  ‘Your English is very good,’ Jake says to Anoosheh. ‘Do they teach it at school?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Farzin say I am top English student,’ Anoosheh replies. ‘Unless Naveed come back,’ she adds, smiling at her brother.

  ‘You don’t go to school, mate?’ Jake asks Naveed.

  Naveed hesitates, then shakes his head. ‘Not possible,’ he says.

  ‘He must work,’ Anoosheh explains. ‘He man of house.’ She pauses briefly to let Jake take this in, and then adds: ‘Our father died from suicide bomber.’

  Jake is stunned, not just by what she said but how she said it: so matter-of-fact for someone so young.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he gasps under his breath. ‘That’s terrible.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Jake,’ Naveed says quietly. ‘Is terrible. But Padar still with us. In here, you see?’ He taps his chest.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jake replies in a whisper, struggling for words. ‘I do see.’

  He doesn’t want to leave now. But he’s been away from the base far too long. He’d hate them to send out a search party. Jake stands and thanks Naveed’s mother for her hospitality. Then he turns to Stingray, and notices at once that Nasera now has the ball. Not only that, but she is constantly picking it up and dropping it at Naveed’s feet. The boy is ignoring her, but she keeps it up.

  ‘Hey, does she often do that?’ Jake asks Naveed.

  ‘I not sure. We not together much time, but I know she good dog. She save my life.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, I think she might be able to save other lives as well.’

  ‘What you mean?’

  ‘There isn’t time to explain now. But could you bring her to Bagram Airfield tomorrow morning, first thing?’

  ‘Yes, I can do.’

  ‘You will come, won’t you? I mean, for sure.’

  ‘Sure, I come. Word of honour. First thing in morning.’ Naveed holds out his hand.

  ‘Good, mate.’ Jake shakes it vigorously. ‘Bloody good!’

  Chapter 18

  ‘I would like to pay an extra month in advance, if you will permit it, sir.’

  Naveed kneels on the floor in front of Mr Kalin, a large man who wheezes and shifts uncomfortably under his own weight from time to time. He takes up most of the mat on which he sits, lounging back on the few cushions that Naveed’s mother has arranged to make him as comfortable as she can in her simple home. He sips chai through a sugar cube held between his teeth as he considers Naveed’s request, and munches on a mix of nuts and raisins. Naveed’s mother and sister sit in the corner to one side.

  Mr Kalin is dressed to show his wealth and position. His pale grey perahan toombon is made of expensive wool, over which he wears a shiny emerald-green chapan with dark purple stripes. The purple dismal around his neck is woven through with silver thread. He has gold on both wrists – a bracelet on one, a solid watch on the other. A thick gold chain hangs around his neck.

  He glances about the room, turning up his nose at the cramped space, but secretly impressed by how neat and clean it is. Clearly this woman is a good housekeeper, a factor in her favour, he decides.

  ‘I see,’ he replies eventually. ‘A month in advance, eh? You must be rich.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Naveed laughs. ‘Far from it, kind sir. But Allah has seen fit to place some work in my path each day. And I have learned from your wise example to save carefully and pay for the things that must be paid for first. We eat next, and if there’s anything left—’ He stops and shrugs. ‘But then there hardly ever is.’

  ‘Very sensible, my boy. Perhaps I may allow you to work for me one day when you’re older.’

  ‘That would be too much of an honour,’ Naveed lies, half-expecting his sister to snicker. He has often told her how much he would hate working for Mr Kalin. The man is known to be a mean employer.

  Mr Kalin toys with the gold chain around his neck. ‘My business is expanding every day, exceeding my own expectations. Why only last week I had to rent yet another warehouse to store the items I’m bringing in from Pakistan. Who knows, one day I might even be as rich as you, young man!’

  He laughs uproariously and takes the rent money, checking the notes before folding and pocketing them.

  ‘In fact, business is so good that my friends tell me I should seriously consider taking a third wife.’ He turns his gaze slightly towards Naveed’s mother.

  A tense silence fills the little room. Naveed has been
dreading this moment, his mother even more, both convinced that the visit was always about more than just collecting the rent. As they struggle to think of a reply, the tension builds, punctuated by Mr Kalin’s wheezing.

  It is Anoosheh who saves the day. Without warning she breaks into a fit of violent coughing.

  ‘Forgive me,’ she splutters between coughs.

  ‘What is it?’ Mr Kalin says, edging away. ‘What’s the matter with her?’

  Naveed catches the tiniest wink from his sister’s eye. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says to Mr Kalin. ‘I didn’t want to trouble you with Anoosheh’s illness. It is our concern, not yours, sir.’

  ‘Illness? Is it contagious?’ Mr Kalin brings his scarf to his face.

  ‘I don’t think so. Although now you ask, my mother and I have not been feeling all that well of late.’ Naveed shakes his finger at Anoosheh. ‘Cover your mouth, girl.’ He then grabs the teapot. ‘Pay no attention to her, kind sir. It will pass soon. Some more chai, perhaps?’

  Mr Kalin cannot dismiss Naveed’s offer quickly enough. He clicks his fingers and a bodyguard immediately rushes in from the outside alcove, helping him to his feet. Mr Kalin hauls his bulk across the room as rapidly as he can, Anoosheh’s coughing fit growing worse all the time. He completely ignores Naveed’s mother, who stands with her head bowed, bidding farewell, and hurries through the doorway, muttering to Naveed from behind his scarf.

  ‘Outside, boy. A word.’

  Naveed follows, struggling to keep a straight face. Out in the street, Mr Kalin glares at him.

  ‘You should have told me. I would never have entered if you had.’

  ‘I really am sorry, sir, but I thought Anoosheh was better. She hasn’t coughed like that for many days. I’m sure it is nothing. I’m sure you will be fine.’

  ‘I hope so, for your sake as much as mine.’ Mr Kalin lowers the scarf from his face. ‘There are two other matters, though.’ He glances towards Nasera; she sits just inside the alcove, her eyes fixed on him.

  ‘First of all, that dog. I’m not sure I should let you keep it.’

  ‘You will never find a better guard dog, sir. Only the other night she chased away a gang that was lurking around your warehouse.’

  ‘Is that so? But is she trustworthy? She looks like she might bite at any minute.’

  ‘Only thieves and anyone who might want to hurt her.’ Naveed can tell that Nasera doesn’t like Mr Kalin; the curl in her lip that twitches as she stares at him from the alcove is the start of a snarl. ‘But you needn’t worry, sir. It’s easy to see that she likes you. See that curl in her lip? She’s smiling at you.’

  Mr Kalin is not completely convinced of this. But he likes the idea that his warehouses might be safer. ‘A guard dog, eh?’

  ‘The best.’

  ‘Very well, then, you can keep her for now. But don’t let her get in my way.’

  ‘Of course not, Mr Kalin.’ Naveed dips his head in respect. ‘And the other matter?’

  ‘Ah, yes. In the park today.’ Mr Kalin stares Naveed straight in the eye. ‘You were seen being very friendly to an American soldier.’

  ‘I think he is Australian. And I don’t really think he is a soldier.’

  ‘Don’t mince words with me, boy. He’s a foreigner and he was seen sitting with you, talking, laughing, taking chai. Explain yourself.’

  Naveed has to think quickly.

  ‘Whoever told you this is not only malicious but a poor spy. If they had bothered to look closely they would have seen that the man was not interested in me, but in my dog. He wanted to buy it, that’s all. He said he knew a good guard dog when he saw one, and tried to persuade me to sell. I refused, of course, but we had to be courteous to him. That is the Afghan way, surely, sir.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I suppose so. As long as that’s all there was to it. But remember this. No matter how friendly he might have been, he is still a foreigner, one of the invaders. Everyone at that air base is. We don’t want them here. Take from them, by all means. Accept their money, but never their friendship. They are leaving, as you know, just as the Russians left, and those before them. And when they’ve gone, those who befriended them will pay the price.’

  Mr Kalin slices his finger across his neck like a knife, and without another word walks away.

  Naveed watches him go, a shudder running right through him. A moment later he feels Nasera rub against him, her muzzle nudging at his hand. She has the ragdoll held gently in her huge jaws. He kneels and hugs her close.

  When Naveed enters the house, his mother and sister are squatting on the floor in each other’s arms, their eyes wet from laughing. They stare at him for a moment and then all three burst into laughter.

  Chapter 19

  When Naveed and Nasera arrive at Bagram Airfield the next morning, Jake is called, and soon joins them, Stingray at his side. The two dogs immediately recognise each other, and after a round of sniffing and piddling are happy to trot along like old friends as Jake leads the way through the base.

  ‘This place is just like an American town,’ he explains. They are walking along Disney Drive, the main street on the base. Signs point everywhere. ‘It’s in sections like suburbs. There are even traffic lights, and they have peak hours.’

  Naveed is enthralled. He knows the base is enormous, even though he’s never actually been in it before. But he cannot get over the size of the place, the endless activity, the mass of troops and personnel, the many vehicles moving about, the vast fleet of aircraft, and the constant humming and drumming.

  There seem to be shops everywhere as well, some with big bright signs. Naveed manages to read a few – Burger King, Dairy Queen, Supermarket – but others are beyond him.

  ‘All these places are here to make the soldiers feel at home,’ Jake explains. ‘Why, there are gyms and cinemas, and even a beauty salon.’

  At least there is also a little bit of Afghanistan inside the base, Naveed notices, as they pass a string of stores run by Afghan merchants selling rugs, carpets, craft and jewellery. And he’s pleased to see the brightly painted jingle trucks, too, which help with construction work about the base. But despite these familiar sights and sounds, Naveed feels as though he has stepped into another world, one far removed from his own.

  The strange thing is that Nasera seems perfectly at home. Naveed was worried that the base might frighten her. But it hasn’t at all. She simply wanders along next to Stingray as if she’s always been part of the scenery.

  They go out to the far side of Bagram Airfield, well away from the main accommodation and service area. Here Jake puts Stingray through some exercises and then runs a series of tests on Nasera.

  He throws balls for the dogs to chase and retrieve, hiding and burying things for Stingray to find, all the while noting what Nasera does and how she reacts. He makes different sorts of loud noises around the dogs, banging tins, shouting and firing guns into the air. Naveed is not sure what it’s all about, for Jake has been too engrossed to explain. But for the moment he’s happy just to watch and wonder what the Australian is up to.

  Eventually, after a couple of hours, Jake stops the exercises and turns to Naveed.

  ‘It’s as I thought yesterday, in the park. She’s a natural.’ He shakes his head in amazement. ‘I thought I might have been imagining things, but no. In fact I’d go so far as to say she’s even better than I expected.’

  Naveed frowns. ‘Please, Mr Jake,’ he says. ‘What you mean, Nasera a natural?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sorry. I just needed to check her out on a few points before I said anything to you. But I can tell you now that Nasera has the makings of a top arms and explosives search dog. As far as I can see, she has all the right qualities. She’s got an excellent sense of smell, she’s a great retriever, she’s very obedient and keen to please, and she doesn’t seem at all upset by loud noises. I’ve never seen a dog more relaxed around Bagram base; it took Stingray weeks to settle down here, and even now a really loud explosion will upset him. The bottom
line is your dog is amazing.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Jake, but I still not sure what you want.’

  ‘We run a program, training dogs to detect landmines, IEDs, hidden explosives and weapons. It’s all part of the fight against terrorists. We need good dogs like Nasera.’

  ‘Aha, I see. You want Nasera?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Not possible.’ Naveed shakes his head. ‘Sorry, but she stay with me. She—’

  ‘No, Naveed, I’m not asking you to part with her. I’d like you to be in the program as well, as Nasera’s handler.’

  ‘Me? You want me do job like you?’

  ‘Too right I do.’

  ‘But I not know how.’

  ‘Not true, mate. I said Nasera was a natural. But so are you. I’ve watched you both – you’re a team. It takes months to get that kind of bond between a dog and its handler – you’ve got it already. The rest we can teach you. You’re both fast learners.’

  ‘But, Mr Jake, I just a boy.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that could be a spanner in the works with the bosses. But I know how to pull a few strings around here, and as far as I’m concerned you’re not just a boy at all, at least not where it matters.’ Jake points to his head. ‘Not up here.’ Then he points to Naveed’s chest. ‘And not in there, either.’ He rests his hand on Naveed’s shoulder. ‘Listen, I don’t want to push you into anything. Just say you’ll think about it, eh?’

  Naveed doesn’t have to think about it. He knows the answer already – yes, yes and yes. He wants to shout it. But just getting the word past his lips is far more difficult than he realised. There’s a lump in his throat getting in the way.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Jake frowns. ‘Have I upset you?’

  ‘No, Mr Jake,’ Naveed says. ‘I happy. I seeing some light.’

  Jake smiles. ‘So is that a yes?’

  Naveed laughs. ‘Yes, is yes!’

  Jake beams back at him. ‘Excellent. We start tomorrow, then. Okay with you?’

  Naveed nods.

  ‘Oh, there is one other thing,’ Jake adds. ‘I’m thinking Nasera must have a toy of some sort. You know, something cuddly that she carts around or plays with or takes to bed. Am I right?’