Goodnight from the Hills

Anu was spending her first night at her grandparents' house in the hills. Everything was different. The bed was high and the quilt was heavy. The room smelled of wood smoke and oranges. And the night was full of sounds she did not know.

She lay stiff and listened.

There was a creak. "That is the roof," said Nani from the doorway, as if she had heard Anu's thought. "It is made of tin. In the day the sun warms it, and at night it cools and settles, like you settling into bed."

There was a long, low hoot. "That is the owl in the deodar tree. She has lived there since your mother was a girl. She is only telling the other owls where she is."

There was a faint rushing sound, on and on. "That is the stream at the bottom of the garden. It runs all night. Some people cannot sleep without it."

There was a single bark, far away, and another answering it. "That is Bhotu, the shepherd's dog, saying goodnight to the dog on the next hill."

Anu's shoulders came down from her ears. The sounds were not strangers any more. They had names.

Nani tucked the heavy quilt around her. Through the small window Anu could see the dark shape of the mountain, and above it more stars than she had ever seen in the city. They were so close that they seemed to rest on the treetops.

"Nani, are these the same stars as at home?"

"The very same. They followed you here."

Anu smiled. The roof creaked once more, settling. The owl called. The stream ran on.

And under the same stars, in a new bed that was beginning to feel like her own, Anu fell asleep.