“Because we’re starting our lives here,” I said.
“Right,” Jane said. She took the pendant and necklace from me and put the silver chain around my neck, fastening it in the back. “There’s also the saying that ‘an elephant never forgets.’ Have you heard it?” I nodded. “John and I are proud to be your parents, Zo?. We’re happy you’re part of our life now, and will help us make our life to come. But I know neither of us would want you ever to forget your mother and father.”
She drew back and then touched the pendant, gently. “This is to remind you how much we love you,” Jane said. “But I hope it will also remind you how much your mother and father loved you, too. You’re loved by two sets of parents, Zo?. Don’t forget about the first because you’re with us now.”
“I won’t,” I said. “I promise.”
“The last reason I wanted to give you this was to continue the tradition,” Jane said. “Your mother and your father each gave you an elephant. I wanted to give you one, too. I hope you like it.”
“I love it,” I said, and then launched myself into Jane. She caught me and hugged me. We hugged for a while, and I cried a little bit too. Because I was eight years old, and I could do that.
I eventually unhugged myself from Jane and looked at the pendant again. “What is this made of?” I asked.
“It’s jade,” Jane said.
“Does it mean anything?” I asked.
“Well,” Jane said, “I suppose it means I think jade is pretty.”
“Did Dad get me an elephant, too?” I asked. Eight-year-olds can switch into acquisition mode pretty quickly.
“I don’t know,” Jane said. “I haven’t talked to him about it, because you asked me not to. I don’t think he knows about the elephants.”
“Maybe he’ll figure it out,” I said.
“Maybe he will,” Jane said. She stood and took my hand again, and we looked out at Huckleberry once more.
About a week and a half later, after we were all moved in to Huckleberry, Dad came through the door with something small and squirmy in his hands.
No, it wasn’t an elephant. Use your heads, people. It was a puppy.
I squealed with glee—which I was allowed to do, eight at the time, remember—and John handed the puppy to me. It immediately tried to lick my face off.
“Aftab Chengelpet just weaned a litter from their mother, so I thought we might give one of the puppies a home,” Dad said. “You know, if you want. Although I don’t recall you having any enthusiasm for such a creature. We could always give it back.”
“Don’t you dare,” I said, between puppy licks.
“All right,” Dad said. “Just remember he’s your responsibility. You’ll have to feed him and exercise him and take care of him.”
“I will,” I said.
“And neuter him and pay for his college,” Dad said.
“What?” I said.
“John,” Mom said, from her chair, where she had been reading.
“Never mind those last two,” Dad said. “But you will have to give him a name.”
I held the puppy at arm’s length to get a good look at him; he continued to try to lick my face from a distance and wobbled in my grip as his tail’s momentum moved him around. “What are some good dog names?” I asked.
“Spot. Rex. Fido. Champ,” Dad said. “Those are the cliché names, anyway. Usually people try to go for something more memorable. When I was a kid I had a dog my dad called Shiva, Destroyer of Shoes. But I don’t think that would be appropriate in a community of former Indians. Maybe something else.” He pointed to my elephant pendant. “I notice you seem to be into elephants these days. You have a Celeste. Why not call him Babar?”
From behind Dad I could see Jane look up from her reading to look at me, remembering what happened at the toy store, waiting to see how I would react.
I burst out laughing.
“So that’s a yes,” Dad said, after a minute.
“I like it,” I said. I hugged my new puppy, and then held him out again.
“Hello, Babar,” I said.
Babar gave a happy little bark and then peed all over my shirt.
And that’s the story of the jade elephant.
FIVE
There was a tap on my door, a rat-a-tat that I gave Hickory to use when I was nine, when I made it a secret member of my secret club. I made Dickory a secret member of an entirely different secret club. Same with Mom, Dad and Babar. I was all about the secret clubs when I was nine, apparently. I couldn’t even tell you what the name of that secret club was now. But Hickory still used the knock whenever my bedroom door was closed.
“Come in,” I said. I was standing by my bedroom window.
Hickory came in. “It’s dark in here,” it said.
“That’s what happens when it’s late and the lights are out,” I said.
“I heard you walking about,” Hickory said. “I came to see if you needed anything.”
“Like a warm glass of milk?” I said. “I’m fine, Hickory. Thank you.”
“Then I’ll leave you,” Hickory said, backing out.