Gul’s Very Important Scarf

Gul’s blue scarf had been everywhere with him. It had brushed the courtyard wall, trailed beside the flower basket, and caught a little mud after yesterday’s rain. Now a sticky orange mark decorated one corner.

Avi held that corner between two fingers. ‘Mango?’ he asked.

Gul looked towards the sky with great interest. Avi laughed. Whatever the answer, the scarf needed washing. He brought a basin of water and placed it beside the laundry basket. Gul followed, blue knot bobbing under his chin, quite unaware that this was going to be a different sort of morning.

Avi knelt so Gul could see his hands. He loosened the knot gently and slipped the scarf free. ‘Just a wash,’ he said. ‘Then it comes back.’

Gul sat beside the basket. Avi swished the blue cloth through the water, rubbed the muddy edge, and rinsed away the soap. The mango mark took a little longer. Gul leaned forward each time the scarf disappeared beneath the bubbles. When Avi lifted it at last, water streamed from its corners. Clean did not mean ready to wear. He carried it to the low washing line while Gul padded close behind.

Two pegs held the scarf on the line. A drop gathered at its lowest corner and fell onto the stones. Gul stood below it, looking up. Without the familiar knot, the air felt strange beneath his chin.

Avi scratched the soft fur there. Gul leaned into his hand, then looked up again. ‘You know where it is,’ Avi said, ‘but that doesn’t make waiting easy.’

He checked the cloth. Still thoroughly wet. Pulling it down now would only put a cold, damp thing around Gul’s neck. Avi left the pegs alone and sat beside the basket to think.

Avi found a red ribbon in the basket. It was bright and clean, with no mango anywhere on it. He held it out for Gul to sniff, without trying to tie it on.

Gul sniffed one end. Then he turned his head away. The ribbon rustled differently. It was narrower than his scarf, and it did not smell like all the places they had been together.

‘Not that one,’ said Avi. He laid it beside the basket. Gul had not been rude. Avi had offered something, and Gul had answered in the way a fox could answer.

Next Avi unfolded a soft yellow cloth and placed it on the stones. Gul pressed his nose into it. It felt pleasant. He put one paw on a corner, then lowered his chin.

Avi smiled hopefully, but Gul’s eyes soon wandered back to the washing line. The cloth could be soft and useful without being the thing he missed.

‘All right,’ Avi said. ‘It doesn’t have to be another scarf.’ He left the yellow cloth flat, gathered the red ribbon out of the way, and settled beside Gul. For a while, neither of them tried to solve anything.

From where they sat, they could see the whole courtyard. A patch of sunlight crept across the stones. A marigold petal rolled a little way and stopped against the basket. The scarf dripped, then waited longer before dripping again.

Avi rested his hand beside Gul rather than on top of him. Gul moved closer until their sides touched.

‘We’ve got time,’ Avi said. He did not promise that the scarf would dry in one minute, or two. He could not make the sun hurry. What he could do was stay nearby. Gul’s ears slowly stopped pointing at the washing line.

The red ball waited near Avi’s heel. He brought it round and rolled it only as far as the next paving stone. Gul watched it stop. Then he stood, padded over, and nudged it back.

Avi did not send it racing across the courtyard. He rolled it the same small distance again. This time Gul followed before it had quite stopped. His paws knew this game even without a blue knot under his chin.

They took their time. Now and then Gul looked up at the scarf, but between those looks there was a ball to return and a friend waiting for it.

After several quiet games, Avi checked the scarf again. Its corners were dry, but the folded place beneath a peg still felt cool and damp. He shifted the peg so that patch could catch the air.

Gul watched carefully. When Avi left the scarf hanging, Gul gave a small sigh and returned to the ball. This time he did not have to be invited.

A breeze lifted the free corner. The golden dots flashed against the blue. The scarf had not forgotten Gul while it was away from his neck. It was simply finishing something that took time.

By afternoon, every part of the scarf was dry. Avi took it down and let Gul sniff it first. It smelled cleaner now, but it was still the soft blue cloth with the golden dots.

Avi tied it loosely, leaving room beneath the knot. Gul lifted his chin, then stretched one front paw and the other. At last everything sat where he expected it to sit.

The red ball lay near the basket, but Gul was not looking at it. His gaze had found the yellow cloth. A warm patch of sunshine had reached its edge while they were busy.

Gul nudged the yellow cloth into the sun, turned around once, and lay down on it. Avi sat beside him with the empty basket.

‘Not a scarf, then,’ he said. ‘A very good bed.’

Gul tucked his nose beside one paw. The blue knot rested beneath his chin; the yellow cloth warmed his belly. Neither had to be the other. Avi put the red ribbon away for another day and rolled the ball safely against the wall. Soon Gul’s eyes closed. Washing day was not his favourite day, but it had found a comfortable ending. The end.