Finding Sasha

while searching for so much more

‘You don’t have to worry, sweetheart, we’ll send somebody to find her, okay?’

I wipe my nose on my sleeve. It’s bad-manners, I know, but don’t want to let go of the hand of the policeman. I remember him — he came to Kindie to teach us road safety, and I thought he looked just like Uncle Emil. His hand is big and warm and he doesn’t pull me to hurry the way Mommy does. The glass doors slide open like magic; inside it smells like the music box Uncle Emil gave me, of metal and something else. A lady gets up from behind a desk and nods at him.

‘Here we go, sweetie.’ The policeman says, then lifts me into a highchair. The lamp above makes the tips of his ears pink like elf’s.

‘Let’s dry you up a little. I am John, this kind lady with the towel is Maraya, and we’ll get you home. Can you tell me your name?’

‘My name is Chloe Roberts, I am five years old and I live at 33 Baker Street,’ I recite just as Mommy taught me. Clever girls are never shy, not even when they are in the police station.

‘Baker Street? That’s two blocks away. Okay, you said you were going home, but why are you alone, at this time and in this weather?’ Miss Maraya rubs the towel around my ears and I hear his words in snippets. Finally, she stops and goes somewhere. Now I can have a normal conversation.

‘Where are your parents, Chloe?’ Mr John hands me a cup of hot chocolate. When did he make it? And how did he know it’s my favourite?

‘Mommy is at Uncle Nick’s party. He’s in a band and we went to his place after the show, but I had to go find Sasha.’

‘Right. Do you know where your uncle lives?’

The chocolate smells delicious. I blow and take a sip.

‘He is not really my uncle, but Mommy said I should call him that. And he lives next to Kmart. That’s where Mommy got my dress from.’

‘It’s a lovely dress.’ Miss Maraya is back with a fluffy blanket and wraps it tight around my shoulders. The pinch at my back makes me sit up tall. I smile my prettiest smile.

‘I love my dress, too.’ Hopefully my voice sounds graceful and polite. ‘Mommy said it’s perfect for Uncle Nick’s party. But the pretty tag is too sharp… ‘

‘The pretty tag?’ Mr John’s eyebrows go up. With his neat blue uniform, he wouldn’t know, so I tell him.

‘That’s how you call the small white card that comes with the dress. It’s stuck to my back, here.’ I bend over and put my hand behind, to show them. ‘It doesn’t poke if I sit still, but it’s there to remind me that I’m pretty. Mommy has one on her dress too, and she never forgets to be pretty. But if it doesn’t work, we have to return the dress.’

Mr John glances at Miss Maraya and shakes his head ever so slightly. Maybe he’s wondering if Miss Maraya has a pretty tag at her back, too.

‘Chloe, you are a very clever little girl. We’ve sent someone to find Mommy. But you said you left the party to find Sasha. Is Sasha your sister, sweetheart?’

‘No, no, I don’t have a sister. I wish I could have one, but Mommy says the stork that brings babies is too busy. I understand, though, the tooth fairy is busy too. Last time my tooth waited under the pillow three days…’

Miss Maraya smiles. She reminds me of Mrs Donovan, our neighbour. I go to her place every Friday, while Mommy does Mrs Donovan’s shopping.

‘Chloe,’ says Miss Maraya ‘is Sasha your cat? Did you lose her?’

‘No, no, there’s only Chuckles, Mrs Donovan’s cat. I am not allowed to have a pet. I feed Chuckles sometimes, because when he’s hungry, he catches the rats behind the house and brings them to Mrs Donovan’s door. It’s a scary place, behind the house, bush and tall grass. Sometimes I see Chuckles sneaking through the grass —’

‘Chloe, who is Sasha? Where is she?’ Mr John takes my empty mug and stoops a bit. His eyes are light-brown and he smells nice, but different from Uncle Emil.

‘Sasha is behind the house, maybe under a bush and she’s all alone and getting wet.’ I’m not a cry-baby, but I feel tears coming. ‘It was my fault. Mommy was angry, we were going to be late, and she had front row tickets so Uncle Nick could see us…’

‘Now, now, Chloe, you are a brave girl. You went alone in the night to find Sasha. What happened to her?’

‘Mommy threw her out.’ I sniffle and brush my nose on the blanket. I’m making a mess, but can’t stop it.

‘Can you tell us what happened?’

‘I was making a new dress for Sasha. Sasha is my doll, she can open her mouth and say Ma-ma, and has the softest curls. Uncle Emil gave her to me for Christmas. He wasn’t my uncle either, he’s French, but Mommy said I should call him uncle. She also said I might call him Dad one day.’

I miss Uncle Emil. He was a writer and used to tell me stories. Mommy said he’s gone to the warm countries, the way storks do, only he’s not coming back. He was the only one who listened to me. Like Mr John, he’s listening to me too. I wish he could be my uncle. Uncle John.

The phone rings. Miss Maraya says, ‘They’ve found the mother, she’s on her way.’

Mommy will be mad at me for walking out without telling her, but she wouldn’t have let me go and Sasha’s still out there in the bush, with the rats, and there’s no one to take care of her.

‘Mr — Uncle John, do you think someone can go find Sasha?’

‘You must love her very much, Chloe.’ He smiles at me.

‘She’s all I have. There are no other children where we go with Mommy, and Sasha keeps me company. Then we go to sleep. Mommy says, if Sasha can sleep anywhere, why can’t I? But there are places where dolls are not allowed and I have to leave her behind.’

‘Is that what happened tonight? Did Mommy ask you to leave Sasha behind?’

I really like him, he understands.

‘I was getting her ready — we’d made a new dress for her — but Mommy said we’re late, we’re late and Sasha’s not allowed because it’s too loud, but I said I’m not going without her and Mommy threw her out the window.’

My throat is closing up and I can’t even tell them how Mommy didn’t let me cry, just pulled on my hand, and I wanted to cry all the way.

‘John. Ms Roberts, Chloe’s mum’s here.’

The door opens and Mommy’s running towards me. She picks me up and holds me tight, the pretty tag stabbing my back as she whispers, ‘Chloe, my darling…’ I know she’s crying.

Miss Maraya starts asking questions, but now she’s nothing like Mrs Donovan because her voice is sharp and low.

‘Ms Roberts, were you aware that Chloe left the party on her own?’

‘No, I… She usually plays with her doll and goes to sleep in a quiet room —’

‘But Chloe didn’t have her doll with her tonight. You threw Sasha out the window.’

‘Damn. I guess I did —’ Mommy looks at me with her eyes red and teary. I can see she’s sorry. I hug her. It’s okay, Mommy.

‘Why don’t you hire a babysitter? Or leave Chloe with a relative, a neighbour? Why drag her to concerts and parties way after her bedtime?’

‘You see… It’s hard to explain.’

Uncle John clears his throat and takes a step closer. I think he’s cross with Mommy.

‘You’d better try, Ms Roberts. We’ve heard about Uncle Nick, Uncle Emil — how many uncles are out there? Or you’d rather explain it to CYFS?’

‘Please… you don’t understand. I’m perfectly capable of caring for my daughter… Ah, it’s too complicated. Do you have children, sergeant?’

‘No, I’m not married. And that’s irrelevant. Why you need to take your five-year-old daughter everywhere with you?’

I wish he wasn’t that cross with her. If he knew the truth, he’ll understand.

‘I can’t leave her with a babysitter, not even Mrs Donovan, I just can’t. Something might happen and she’s all I have…’ Mommy lowers her voice and looks down. ‘You see, she’s going to school next year and… kids are cruel, they’ll bully her, ask her who’s her daddy. Thrust me, I know. So — I’ve got to find a father for my child…’ She tugs my hair behind my ear, and quietly adds, ‘We must find a daddy for Chloe.’

I look at Uncle John and nod — we must find me a dad.

‘You understand how ridiculous…’ Miss Maraya pauses, looks at me and carries on, ‘how this might not be the best way to handle things?’

Mommy sniffles and puts her hands on my shoulders.

‘Just look at her, look at my Chloe. If nobody wants to marry a single mother like me, who will resist having a daughter like her? No sleepless nights, no dirty nappies, only a happy, polite little girl.’

She places her lips on top of my head and whispers something into my hair.

Uncle John offers Mommy a tissue like he’s not cross with her anymore.

‘Come on, it’s getting late, and we still need to find Sasha, right?’ He grins at me and gives me a wink just like Uncle Emil. ‘We’ll search behind the house with my big police torch. What do you say, Chloe?’

I want to say how much I’d like that and that I can’t wait to hold Sasha again. I also want to say maybe we could have hot chocolate at home after that, and watch TV until it’s Sasha’s bedtime, but he’s already marching ahead. Mommy carries me in her arms and as the glass doors magically slide open, I whisper in her ear ever so quietly, ‘Mommy, do you think I can call Uncle John Dad one day?’

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Photo by Meghan Hessler on Unsplash