Time passed, and Kambra’s pups grew to the age where they could come out and meet the pups from other litters.
Bath and Mer’bel liked to play with young Jalkort and Fabana. But Gur’mekh had little patience with those who could not hear his thoughts. The one exception he made was for Lenti, a female that he was infatuated with. Lenti could have cared less about him or his puppy affections. Gur’mekh held even his own sisters in mild disdain, preferring to stay home and hang on his Muti and Maleh.
Gur’bruk was afraid his son would not learn the social skills he needed to rise in the clan and find a mate someday. And so reluctantly he told Gur’mekh to go play with the others and not to come back home till Bath and Mer’bel returned. “You need to get out of the den and stretch your legs! Now go be a good boy, OK?”
Gur’mekh was not upset. He resented the enforced “play” but knew his maleh’s gesture was meant well. He trudged off to try and amuse himself alone, maybe to find a springhare a or meerkat to chase.
He saw Lenti and Demrath wrestling. For a while he stopped and watched their struggle until slowly but surely Demrath won.
“Hello, Lenti! Why don’t you try me?”
“Demrath won. You’re supposed to play the winner.”
He drew close to her and whispered, “I bet he won because you let him.”
“I did not,” she said very indiscreetly. “He won fair and square!”
“Shhhh! He’ll hear you.”
She drew close to his ear and whispered, “Wanna know a secret?”
“Yeah! Who’s it about?”
She looked around and then whispered in his ear. “You. I hear on good authority that Lenti doesn’t want to play with you. She doesn’t even like you.”
Gur’mekh hung his head. “That’s not funny. Why don’t you like me? I just want to be your friend, and all you do is dump on me.”
She sighed. “Look, Gur’mekh, if you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone, OK?” Lenti turned and trotted off with Demrath.
Gur’mekh plodded off, his head hung low. Preoccupied with his own problems, he walked right into Shimbekh’s side.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” he said, but he thought, “I bet she thinks I’m an idiot.”
“No I don’t,” she thought back.
“Hey, you heard me!”
Shimbekh smiled. “What’s wrong, Gur’mekh? Your maleh put you out of the den?”
“Yeah. Who are you?”
“I’m your Aunt Shimbekh.”
“That makes you....”
“Your muti’s sister. Does she ever mention me?”
“I’ve met my Aunt Zari and Uncle Der’brukh. I didn’t know my Muti had a sister. Why don’t you ever come by?”
“I really want to, but not today.”
“When?”
“We’ll talk about that later. Since you have nothing better to do for a while, why don’t we go chase prawns in the creek and get to know each other?”
“Yeah, sure!”
From that point on, Shimbekh tried to keep her eyes from meeting his. A desperate plan was going through her mind, one she tried not to think about for fear that it would betray her motives to the pup.
They took a long route to avoid the eyes of the others. It would not do to have others identify her as the last one to see Gur’mekh alive. Eventually they ended up at a deep place in the creek, deep enough to suit her needs.
“Maybe you’ll get your first prawn,” Shimbekh said. “Mmmm, yeah!”
“Are they good to eat?”
“The best. But you have to know where they like to hide.”
Gur’mekh waded into the cold stream, raising his paws high with each step to avoid the chilly water. “Where are they?”
“They live under the rocks. You have to turn them over.”
“Oh.”
Gur’mekh dipped his whole muzzle in the cold water, pushing up a rock with his nose. A prawn skipped backwards, using its tail to flee along the bottom. He smacked at it with his paw and missed, only wetting his underside. “Darn it! They’re fast, Aunt Shimbekh!”
She laughed--a forced laugh that her heart was not in. “You have a better chance in the deeper water.”
“I don’t swim--very good.”
“That’s all right. If you get in trouble, I’ll come after you.”
Gur’mekh waded out until the water lapped at his shoulders. He reached under with his head, pushing up a stone. Between the efforts and the current, his paws lost their hold on the slippery rocks.
“Hey!”
He struggled to right himself, but the current pushed him into deeper water where his feet could not touch the bottom.
“Help! Aunt Shimbekh!”
Shimbekh’s jaw trembled. Her heart began to pound. If Roh’kash willed him to live, than live he shall. If he were to die....
“Help! Aunt Shimbekh, help me!”
She watched the pup that could have easily been her son slide under the water. Sputtering, Gur’mekh broke the surface to gasp in a breath and release it in a yell for help. “Oh gods! Auntie Shim....”
Shimbekh’s maternal feelings yelled for help as well. She sprang up and ran along the bank. “Hold on! I’m coming!”
“Help!”
His small body slipped under the surface. Shimbekh jumped into the water, frantically paddling to his side. She groped around in the water till she found him, then gripped the nape of his neck with her teeth and held his head above the water. He gasped, his eyes wide with fear.
She got him to the bank. Sitting him down, she fell to her side and began to sob. “Poor little boy! Oh gods!”
“Auntie Shimbekh,” he sputtered, coughing.
“Are you all right, honey tree?”
“Yeah. But I don’t like prawns.”
“I know honey. I don’t like them anymore myself.” She began to groom him, tears rolling down her face. Holding him desperately to her with a paw, she stammered, “I was so scared that I’d lose you! No more fishing till you learn how to swim. From now on, you don’t get in deeper than your knees, understand?”
“No problem!” He looked at the water and shuddered, half with cold, half with fear.
“We’ll go hunt you a nice springhare. Would you like that?”
“Yeah! Let’s go away from here!” He leaned against her as they walked. “Thanks for saving me. I love you, Auntie Shimbekh.”