Black Flame (15 page)

The day finally arrived.

Even though he hadn't exactly been waiting for it, Kelsang knew that he wasn't being let loose in the store for his own pleasure. The security guards hadn't tried to teach him anything, but he still understood that the store was supposed to be empty. It was his job to make sure it stayed that way.

At first light, Kelsang heard a noise. He was lying beside one of the refrigeration units, enjoying the cold air and reminiscing about his first experience of snow up on the grasslands. Until now, not even the hum of the motor had shaken him from his daydream.

The noise was coming from the jewelry department on the second floor. Kelsang didn't like it up there. The lights always made him feel dizzy. Nevertheless, he decided to check it out.

He walked up the stairs, paused at the top and looked around. Everything was quiet. He took a few steps forward, and still there was no sound. It had probably been a mouse. The mice in the store were particularly fat and sluggish, with a remarkable tenacity and bravery to boot. They were always crashing around and knocking things over. Still, they always managed to escape before Kelsang could get close. They were small enough to hide comfortably in cracks that he couldn't even push his nose into. In any case, he wasn't bored enough to bother chasing them.

Yet something was making Kelsang uneasy. The mice usually only appeared in the food section downstairs. They had never been up here before. He threaded his way between the counters that were lit up like shining islands bathed in summer sunlight. The lights were specially designed to make the jewelry look dazzling and beautiful.

He found nothing. It must have been a mouse.

Kelsang looked up one last time before making his way back downstairs. He sniffed at the cool air. Suddenly he detected a strange smell. It was probably just a bag of candy one of the store clerks had stashed in a cupboard, or someone's perfume. But the customers had long since gone, and these scents should have grown faint by now.

But the strange smell kept wafting into Kelsang's nostrils, and it was getting stronger. It was no different than other smells, coming suddenly and disappearing just as quickly, but it didn't smell like anything he'd experienced before. Or was it like mud after the rain?

Smell was an important tool for Kelsang's imagination. He could smell that someone had been lingering in front of the counter. Whoever it was must have climbed in through the window, since he could detect traces of the scent in the dust on the window frame. It was a smoker. The person behind the smell became clearer, like a road opening out before him. Growing more and more excited, Kelsang jogged in pursuit of the smell. He knew he was close.

The smell was getting stronger. He could detect a hint of fear, a smell people normally didn't give off. Fear has its own particular smell, and Kelsang understood it well.

One day the previous week, he had been led into the store and tied to a post near the door. The security guards hadn't got around to untying him before he found someone hiding near the restroom. The man shouted as he was led away. The smells of the day's customers were still fresh, but it was the smell of fear that told him the man was there. It couldn't be washed off like other smells.

Once again, Kelsang knew that this person wasn't supposed to be here. The only people allowed in the store at night wore black uniforms. He knew their smell, and this person definitely didn't smell like one of them. The smell was coming from behind some potted plants beside the escalators. Kelsang couldn't see anything, but his nose was sure. Someone was hiding back there.

There was a row of plastic chairs against the wall behind the plants where customers could rest. If Kelsang were to squeeze behind the chairs, he would have no room to turn around and get out. So he did what he always used to do when faced with wolves in hiding about to pounce on his flock of sheep. He retreated a few steps and then started barking. He then ran around the potted plants barking even more. The wolves always emerged, fearing that his master would soon arrive.

The intruder was no more patient or intelligent than the wolves, and so out he came. But nor was he as quick and elegant. He stumbled out, his trousers catching on the branches of a potted plant. He stopped.

He raised his right hand and calmly gave his command. Only then did he realize that the dog in front of him wasn't a German shepherd but a breed he had never seen before. Furthermore, it was looking at him with unmistakable contempt. There was clearly no point in giving it any instructions, and he suddenly felt ridiculous.

He pulled out his knife, but by the time he realized how stupid this was, it was too late. Somehow he had believed that this dog could be silenced as the German shepherds had been, that it was just a matter of finding the right command. But he had miscalculated.

A sting at his waist. The knife dropped to the ground and spun out of sight. He also lost a sleeve.

Without giving him any time to prepare, Kelsang went for the man's throat. The man crossed his hands over his face, and the other sleeve was gone.

By the time the security guards made it to the second floor, they were faced with a peculiar scene. An almost naked man was lying on top of a large, shaky screen, and Kelsang was sitting facing him, howling furiously.

“Please, save me!” the man sobbed. “What took you so long? It nearly ate me. Where did you get this dog? I'm making a complaint!”

No matter how hard they tried to persuade him, the man wouldn't move. Only when the guard who usually fed Kelsang crept up and fastened the chains to his collar did the man climb down, sobbing gratefully.

Kelsang was still livid and ready to charge at him. It took two security guards to hold him back.

From that day until Kelsang left the store six months later, there were no more incidents of burglary. Of course, that didn't include shoplifters who made off with small items during the day. But word spread among the more serious thieves in the area that a terrifying dog, straight from the grasslands, was guarding the store.

10

SUSU IS GONE

KELSANG'S LIFE AT
the department store was peaceful and comfortable. He was fed special dog food every day, and he could almost feel himself growing and maturing as he slept in his pen. His work required no physical strain, and he was used to it. All he had to do after the store closed at the end of the day was patrol in search of anyone who had hidden in a corner or snuck in.

Kelsang's help made life much easier for the security guards. They didn't even need to make their hourly rounds. All they had to do was release him inside in the evening and lead him back out in the morning. The night was theirs to do as they pleased — watch movies, sleep, play computer games. Somehow they didn't realize the potential downside of the situation. If only one person was needed to collect Kelsang, there was no need to employ so many security guards. But being totally unaware of this, they spent their nights in the computer section playing the latest release. That night it was the newest installment of
Devil Beast
.

And so it was that Kelsang was left to roam the large store. The many smells of the day were being dispersed by the air-conditioning, and yet Kelsang went in search of new ones that lingered on. He was already perfectly familiar with his responsibilities as guard dog. The store was his terrain, and the only people allowed in were the security guards. It wasn't difficult for Kelsang to adjust to this life. The store was just a new pasture for him, and he applied the same principles he had used when protecting the sheep and his master's yurt. Intruders were to be met with a full-on attack. Only this time, he was protecting aisle after aisle of food and miscellaneous goods.

It wasn't such a big leap to go from imagining the store as his grasslands to seeing the vibrant green spread out before him. Suddenly everything felt familiar. Open spaces had always awakened Kelsang's desire to run, and he needed exercise to vent his untamed nature. He gathered speed, rounding the aisles without slowing down, sliding across the shiny floors like a car on a race track. Then he made for the next large room.

Life was simpler here than on the grasslands — no rushing around after lost sheep, no getting up in the middle of the night to check around the yurt. Kelsang was driven to run by instinct. But somehow he believed that one day he'd make it back to the grasslands and be a shepherd dog again.

With plenty of nutrition, rest and exercise, Kelsang was in the best possible shape, mentally and physically. Not one pound of food went to waste. His muscles were as hard as rock. At over 175 pounds, he was like a bear running down the aisles. His glossy mane fluttered as he ran, like threads of silk in a summer breeze. Until now he wouldn't have been anyone's first choice to star in a shampoo commercial, but things were changing.

Spring in the north finally arrived. Every day, as Kelsang awoke in his pen, the fragrance of mud and grass wafted toward him on the wind.

He began to be roused by an indescribable emotion. He didn't know what it was. He had experienced spring up on the grasslands — the small flowers nestled close to the ground, waiting for the snow to melt so that they could bloom. The flowers always used to surprise him when he was a small pup. The pollen made him sneeze, and Tenzin's family would burst into peals of laughter — a rare sound in that camp — as he scratched his nose with his paw. From then on he hated all flowers, and spring made him anxious.

But this was a completely different feeling. All Kelsang's waking moments were occupied with despondent thoughts, and sometimes he even forgot his desire to see Han Ma, he was so consumed by them. Before, he would wake up furious at his betrayal and instantly start pawing at the metal mesh fence of his pen and jumping and running around. But this new feeling seemed to be taking control of him. He didn't understand what was happening.

The only relief he could find was to circle the pen, pressing his body tight against the mesh, just like a panther locked up at the zoo. All he wanted was to keep walking. He had no particular destination in mind. Maybe he could walk toward the horizon? But he was in the city and couldn't even see the horizon.

That evening, as the sun was setting, Kelsang suddenly found his destination. It was a noise that first alerted him. He looked up and saw Susu standing in the other pen, watching him through the mesh. He wanted to get closer to her. That was all he could think about. So that was it, he realized. He wanted to be beside Susu.

Ever since he'd been beaten, Zorro seemed to abandon his once provocative behavior. Kelsang was receiving special treatment. He ate and patrolled on his own now. He had stopped paying attention to the other dogs long ago, and although he sometimes heard Zorro barking, all it took was one look, and the German shepherd would fall silent again.

This is how it works in the dog world — power decides everything. A pack's leader is always the strongest and smartest.

Today it was as if Kelsang was seeing Susu for the first time. Beautiful, black Susu. He thought back to that first day he had arrived at the department store. There had been a pair of black eyes watching him. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that German shepherds were his natural-born enemies. This was what experience told him, at least — the snippets he had gathered since leaving the grasslands, wandering the streets of Lhasa and being tied up on that mountainside. Experience was what he believed in most.

But something in his heart was telling him to renounce it. As soon as the security guard fastened the chains to his collar and opened the pen, Kelsang dragged him in the direction of the German shepherds. The guards had never tried to prevent Kelsang from doing anything before, but then he had never had any special demands. In any case, there was no way one person could stop Kelsang from going where he wanted.

This was Kelsang's second big emotional adventure. The first had started when Han Ma stroked his fur. Kelsang hesitated, unsure if he was doing the right thing. His previous experience couldn't help him now.

Zorro's teeth glinted in the corner of the pen, but he didn't move. Kaisa, in contrast, looked up in excitement and wagged his tail furiously.

Susu pressed her nose up to the mesh. Kelsang detected a new smell that somehow reminded him of his mother's, now a distant memory. But it wasn't quite the same. He flared his nostrils and went closer. He needed more of it.

When Kelsang and Susu touched noses, a shock shot through him, and he turned around to look at the guard. This was the first time since leaving the grasslands that he had looked to a human to tell him what to do. The guard was indifferent. The all-night gaming sessions were starting to take their toll.

The second time Kelsang's nose brushed against Susu's, a tremble went from the tip of his nose down through every hair on his body, blocking out the sound of Zorro's desperate barking and Kaisa's flat accompaniment.

After the guard took Kelsang into the store and undid his chains, Kelsang stood still for a long time. Eventually, he turned and sniffed at the breeze coming through the crack under the door that had been closed behind him. He wanted to see if he could smell Susu.

One of the other security guards noticed. “He seems different today. You don't think he's found something, do you?”

“No, but he might have fallen in love with Susu. What kind of dog would you get if you crossed a German shepherd with a Tibetan mastiff?”

The two guards continued joking as they made their way up to the computer department, leaving Kelsang where he was. That night he didn't do any running but went to the refrigerated section and dozed in the cool air.

From that day on, it became a sort of ritual. Every day, before and after work, Kelsang would approach Susu's pen without really understanding what he was doing. But of one thing he was sure. He only felt contented once he had touched noses with Susu. He didn't know what was going to happen next. No one had taught him about the birds and the bees up on the grasslands, and he had been alone ever since then. Of course, Zorro was not happy about this, but all he could do was hide in his corner and growl helplessly.

Had everything continued, no doubt Kelsang would have become an excellent guard dog, and he and Susu could have brought many puppies into the world, and they in turn would have been excellent guard dogs. The natural strength of their mastiff father would have been honed by the discipline and training of their German shepherd mother. They could even have created a new breed that would have become the police dog of choice. But anyone can spend their time imagining things that are never destined to come to pass.

That evening, as the sun was setting, and after Kelsang had finished his nose-touching ritual with Susu, the guards rushed him into the store. They tugged off his chains, keen to get to their computer game. Kelsang turned for his routine sniff at the crack under the door when a smell hit him like a bolt of lightning. It was one that he recognized dimly, but because he hadn't smelled it in so long, it felt half unknown.

As if in a trance, he followed the smell up to the third floor where the small handicraft stalls could be found. The store rented out space to individual traders to get more customers through the doors. Kelsang located the source of the smell — a small cabinet that had been empty until yesterday. He slowed. He knew this smell. It was as if it came from his own body. He had grown up in this smell. It came from the grasslands.

The stall had just been rented by a Tibetan trader who had brought with her small trinkets from the plateau. Kelsang didn't want to leave the cabinet with its wooden bowls the color of amber, the jewelry that had once decorated Mistress's neck and waist, the knives that Tenzin used to carry with him, the boxes made from yak bone. Kelsang was in a dream. He was back on the grasslands and could smell the smoke rising from the yurt.

When he emerged from the store the next morning, he didn't go to Susu's pen but made straight for his own, lay down and began to think. He was replaying his life on the grasslands and all that had happened to him since leaving. It was only when one of the guards came around midday to give him food that Kelsang discovered that Susu had vanished. Zorro and Kaisa were the only ones left in the pen.

The guard was pouring out his food when he felt Kelsang's chains leap up as if they'd been bitten by a poisonous snake. This was followed by a muffled thunder, which echoed around the yard, as the chains were pulled across the concrete.

A vision of the enemy appeared before Kelsang's eyes, a figure traced from the unfamiliar smell lingering in the air. He had taken Susu away. It was him.

Kelsang dragged his chains toward the other pen and started banging his weight against the reinforced gate. No one was strong enough to control him, and the guards could only watch as the huge dog thrashed against the pen. The two remaining German shepherds started to bark, but something made them stop and they retreated to a corner, whimpering.

If Kelsang's wild nature had softened since leaving the grasslands, his recent good mood — a survival tactic he had been developing here at the store — was now gone forever. He was a mastiff, and he was wild with fury at having lost his companion.

Eventually, Kelsang managed to burst open the gate to the pen. The two dogs wailed as if their day of reckoning had arrived, but Kelsang suddenly became very calm. He turned and went to lie down in the middle of the yard. Susu's scent felt very far away. Zorro and Kaisa weren't going to wait for another opportunity like this and escaped from the pen.

After the bell sounded to announce the store closing for the day, the security guards had no choice but to pluck up their courage and enter the yard. The look on Kelsang's face suggested that his good-natured cooperation was over.

He watched as they crept closer. There was something about their careful movements, or perhaps it was just the chains they were carrying, that suddenly made Kelsang come to his senses. He roared, telling them to keep their distance, and the men understood.

Eventually, however, one young man started to approach Kelsang. He often bragged about kicking an army dog to death when he'd trained as a special agent. He was like a cocksure cowboy approaching an untamed foal, but it was obviously pointless. There was a line that Kelsang wasn't going to let him cross without a fight.

In truth, this young man had probably only ever worked in army kitchens. He stumbled back, flushed, with no shirt and two red scratches down his chest.

The security guards had no choice but to replace Kelsang with the two German shepherds. Delighted, and with renewed self-confidence at having his job back, Zorro started barking as soon as his leash was attached. He charged at Kelsang, who was sitting casually on top of the two halves of the young man's uniform. It reminded Zorro of his days in the police force when all the dogs used to wait to have their leashes fastened before being led outside.

No one understood what happened next. By the time Kelsang had settled back down on the ripped uniform, Zorro was lying in a pool of fresh blood, his leg twitching but his amber eyes already lifeless. Zorro was just another, albeit more solid, uniform to be discarded on the ground. Kaisa tore away from his leash. He scuttled back to the pen, his tail between his legs, and buried himself in the far corner.

When Yang Yan came the next day to collect Kelsang, the dog didn't attack him as the security guards expected he would. Indeed, the mastiff put up no resistance at all and was easily led into the boss's car. The guards had refused to have him back in the store. It was as simple as that.

No one knew where Susu had gone, although the guards must have had some idea because the gate to the pen was always locked. The deal was probably done in the afternoon. No one would have seen the truck pull into the yard, nor would they have seen Susu climb into it, trembling but still obeying orders.

Somebody must have seen her at some point, though, probably on a plate in a restaurant. So you should always watch out for what is going in and out of trucks.