would slip out of his hands. Finally he stopped in front of a small shop. An old man in a white cap sat cross-legged on a rug in front of a sewing machine.
âHere is the gudiya , janab .â Asher handed the old man Amy Jo.
Asher held his breath as he watched the man check Amy Joâs hair and clothes. There were scratches on the doll, her dress was ripped and she was dirty. Would that matter?
The old man looked up at him. âYou have spoken truly, beta . This is a special doll from England. She is called a porcelain doll.â
He pulled a purse from his qameez pocket. âHere is your payment.â Then he added, âMay your sister get well.â
Asher counted the money. â Shukriya , janab .â He placed his right hand over his heart in thanks.
The old man put aside his sewing work and measured Amy Jo. She wondered what would happen. Would he put her in a box?
He took off her boot, her socks and dress, and washed her with a damp cloth. It was good to feel clean again.
She lay on the bench beside spools of thread while he cut a pattern for a little shalwar qameez from burgundy silk. He threaded a needle and began stitching along the tiny seams.
âIt is a long time since I have made an outfit for a little princess like you.â He smiled as though he remembered a happy time long ago.
When he finished stitching he dressed Amy Jo. He plaited her hair and put in Rubiâs clip. He then measured some white leather and cut out a tiny boot. It was different from the other one. âIt is not perfect but only Allah can make a perfect thing.â
Amy Jo didnât mind. It was good to feel properly dressed again.
The old man unfolded his legs and his bones creaked as he stood up. âYou can sit up on the shelf. Now everyone can see how beautiful you are.â
K elsey was not well. Since waking, sheâd vomited three times and had to run to the toilet twice. She didnât even care she had to squat. Her head felt as if someone were hitting it with a hammer.
âIâm worried, Len,â her mum said. âItâs the floodwater. Imagine how many amoebas are in it. Sheâs probably got a bug in her intestines.â
Her dad nodded. âI got that when I lived here as a child. Iâll buy the medicine.â
Kelsey was more worried about not seeing Shakila and Raza. Was he all right? âDad, can you find out if everythingâs okay at Shakilaâs house?â
âSure thing.â Then he added, âThat was a brave thing you did to save Raza. You could have been swept away yourself.â
At the time Kelsey had forgotten how dangerous the floodwater was. All she had thought of was Raza.
Kelsey hated waiting all day for news but at least something interesting happened. Six ladies visited the house and Mum taught them how to sew.
Her dad had bought two Singer sewing machines a week ago and had set them up in the lounge. Kelsey had never seen machines so old. They didnât even use electricity. They were pumped by a foot pedal to make the needle go up and down. Kelsey found it fascinating to watch her mum work it.
âWe will practise on tablecloths and sheets,â Mum said to the ladies, âsince all your things were lost in the flood. Then we will make clothes.â
Kelsey was too tired to help so she rested on the couch and listened. She could even understand some words the ladies said. She told her mum, âTheyâre scared of the needle in the machine.â
Mum smiled at the ladies to show there was nothing to be frightened of. She showed them how to use the pedal and keep their fingers away from the needle. One lady had sewn with a machine before and helped show the others what to do.
By the end of the afternoon each lady had made a tablecloth and a sheet to take home.
âWhen we leave for Australia,â Mum told Kelsey as the ladies left, âweâll give the machines to the women to start a sewing business.
Michael Bar-Zohar, Nissim Mishal