Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING
“Thank you,” Black Spot said.
“When will we reach this place?” Vera asked.
“Soon,” Black Spot answered. “We are walking just a little more
this way.”
“Soon,” Vera said with a sigh, and fanned herself with her scarf.
“That’s what he said an hour ago.” She turned to Black Spot again.
“Excuse me, but what is your name?”
“You can calling me Black Spot.”
Esmé slumped with a heavy sigh onto a boulder and arranged her
face with the weariest of expressions. Pup-pup yelped in sympathy,
jumped out of the scarf sling, and licked her young caretaker’s hand.
Esmé let go of the paper umbrella they had bought that morning,
and it rolled off to her side. Because she had silently insisted on
bringing it, she could not complain. Normally, Marlena would have
reproached her and made her carry the object of her impetuous de­
sire until she admitted she was wrong. But this time, Marlena
reached over and grabbed the umbrella. It was pure folly to have
bought it, and they should have left the cumbersome thing in the
truck, but Esmé had said: “We need a parasol in case it’s all hot, and
Pup-pup needs some shade.” Parasol? Where had Esmé learned such
an archaic word? Well, the important thing was that Esmé was fi­
nally talking to her again. If she was still upset, it was hard to tell
from her mood, which was alternately tired and impatient, then
playful and silly with the dog. Still, Marlena worried. What had
Esmé actually seen? Had she seen everything?
Marlena felt a drop on the top of her head. The humidity made
the branches above them laden with dampness, and they were sweat­
ing as heavily as Bennie. She tipped the parasol over her head. High
above in the canopy, a monkey flew from branch to branch, sending
down droplets that drummed on the taut oiled paper. “Hey, Mom,”
Esmé declared with evident pride. “Good thing we bought that
umbrella.”
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