was starting to set, casting shadows here and there, and every now and again, Harun would completely disappear into one and then reappear in a shaft of light somewhere else, as if magical.
“Where’s he going?” Mark shouted, coming up next to me. It felt like we ran for ages, my legs scraping against bushes and shrubs, but I didn’t care. But at some point, I couldn’t run anymore. My legs and lungs would simply not carry me any longer. Mark came to a stop next to me, and soon Samirah followed. We all stood there together, out of breath, and watched as Harun became smaller and smaller and smaller, running off into the now fast-setting sun.
I shook my head as he reached the horizon. The point at which he would completely disappear from view. I inhaled so sharply that the breath felt like a dagger in my tight throat, and then I burst into tears. Loud and unbridled.
“COME BACK! COME BACK!” I yelled.
At that, Harun stopped. He turned around and looked at us.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” I shouted so loudly that I tasted metal in the back of my throat.
I felt an arm come up around my shoulder: Mark. I felt another arm, it was Samirah. We stood there arm in arm, staring at the dog in the distance. And then I heard it. Three loud barks. So definitive, so final like a . . . goodbye.
He was leaving me. The thought hit me in the ribs and the head and the heart and my legs. I felt the thought like a pain that ricocheted through my entire body. A pain that was sharp and dull and ached at the same time.
“He’s . . . he’s . . . leaving me . . .” I stuttered and stumbled in between the guttural sobs and moans as I held my chest because it felt like the heart inside it was going to break and smash. “Why is he leaving?” I wailed.
“Perhaps his work here is done,” Samirah said softly. There was warmth and love in her tone, but there was also truth to it. I recognized that truth immediately, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
Harun gave three final barks, and then he turned and disappeared over the horizon, out of sight.
“NOOOOO!” I wailed so loudly that I’m sure I woke the desert itself up. Mark pulled me into his arms and I wept into his shoulder. I felt a hand on my back, Samirah rubbing it in small and steady circles. I pushed Mark away.
“He can’t just leave me,” I said frantically and then started running again. Sore legs and screaming lungs, I ran and ran and ran. I looked over my shoulder. Samirah and Mark were still standing there. They hadn’t moved and looked like they were simply waiting for me to return. As if they knew nothing could be done, running was futile.
I ran until I couldn’t run anymore, until the sun finally went down and the world around me started getting blacker and darker. I stopped and then fell to my knees, gasping for air and sweating from the effort and the achy nausea that was surging through me. I sat there, catching my breath, waiting for the world to stop spinning from lack of oxygen.
Finally, I heard footsteps behind me. It was Mark. He held his hand out for me. I took it reluctantly and he pulled me to my feet.
“He’s gone,” Mark said softly to me as we walked back towards the house.
“He’s gone,” I repeated thoughtfully. And I think I understood what he meant. I think I understood what Samirah meant too. Harun had come into my life, and for a brief moment, he’d been my dog, but now, after he’d done what he was meant to do . . . he was gone.
He didn’t belong to me.
He belonged to the world.
He wasn’t mine.
He was much, much greater than that.
CHAPTER 76
One year later
I must have watched and waited for Harun for months after that. But he never came back. He was gone. Only, he wasn’t really gone at all. He was in everything I did. He was in every single moment of every single day of my new life, because it was him who’d helped steer me towards this new life.
Mark and I got married out here in the desert in front of his house. It was a small wedding, only friends and family. My mom and Dan the dentist had flown in