September 29, 2007

Fahad had been in bed for hours. He could not go to sleep, he was so excited by all the different things he had seen that day. Outside, a slight breeze puffed long streamers of white cloud across the sky. The sea scarcely stirred and all was so silent that he could hear the baby swallows chirping sleepily in their nest above his bedroom window.

He was sure somebody was walking around in the room. He starred into the darkness. No one was there. He lay down again and listened hard. “Who’s that?” he called, his heart thumping. It was not his imagination. Once more he heard the slither of a foot on the wooden floor. He was more frightened because there was enough light to see any intruder and when he stared all he could make out were the now familiar shapes of the furniture. He was throttled by fear.

His thoughts were a mass of ghosts, of the newly-dead great-grand father Rehman, which haunted the old cook’s stones. His mouth was dry, he swallowed hard and tried to convince himself that the noise he heard was the beating of his own heart. But the sound was so clear that he was soon forced to admit that it was a footstep. His hands shook as he switched on the light and jumped out of bed.

Fahad had hardly moved towards the window when out of his own shoes leapt an enormous rat. It was a monster. Swift as an arrow, the rat ran round the room, jumped onto the bed and sat up on its hind legs right on the pillow. Where had this big fat rodent come from? He tiptoed to the bedroom door and opened it wide. The rat seemed to read his mind. He had no need to point. The rat was out of the door and down the stairs with astonishing speed. Fahad shut the door and went back to bed, to fall, at last, into a deep sleep.