Who Are You?

“What a beautiful day for a walk,” Panda says. “Not too cold, not too windy and—”

“Look!” Squirrel interrupts, pointing up into a big tree. A colony of bats is roosting in the branches, heads hanging down.

“What does the world look like upside-down?” Panda wonders.

“Let’s find out!” Squirrel runs up another tree and hangs upside-down from a branch.

“And?” Panda calls.

“Fantastic!” Squirrel yells back. “Now the trees are growing into the ground!”

I want to see that too, Panda thinks.

She clambers up the trunk and chooses a branch that’s not too thick, so she can get a good grip on it. Squirrel is a bit worried.

“Careful, Panda!” she cries. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Panda’s not listening. She wraps her hind legs around the branch and lets her body swing down.

They hear a quiet creak, then a loud crack and Panda tumbles out of the tree. She lands head-first with a heavy thud. She doesn’t move.

“Oh, no, Panda!” Squirrel dashes down the tree. She tugs at Panda, pushes, pinches and shakes her. “Panda! Panda!” she wails. “Say something! Wake up, Panda, please!” She cries and shoves at Panda’s heavy, motionless body.

And then finally—phew!—Panda blinks. She looks at Squirrel, but her eyes are blank.

“Who are you?” she mumbles.

“Squirrel,” Squirrel says with surprise. “Your friend!”

“And who am I?” Panda asks.

“You’re Panda, my friend!”

“What’s a friend?” Panda mumbles.

Squirrel thinks for a moment.

“Well... A friend goes for walks with you. They tell you all their secrets. They hug you when you’re sad. They play fun games with you. They help you when you’re in a mess and they never let you down. They make you laugh and...er...lots of other things!”

“That sounds nice,” Panda sighs. “I wish I had a friend.”

“But you have one!” Squirrel shouts. “Me!” She starts to sob.

“Why are you crying?” Panda asks.

“You don’t remember a thing, Panda. You knocked everything out of your head when you fell on it. What now? What do we do now?”

What a strange little animal, Panda thinks. I didn’t fall. She looks around. She taps the tree trunk with her paw.

“What’s this?” she asks.

“A tree, Panda.”

“And what do trees do?”

“Not much. They stand in one place and grow slowly towards the sky. And they’re glad when birds come to visit.”

“And that?” Panda is pointing at a clump of bamboo.

“Come on, Panda! That’s bamboo! You love it! You never eat anything else! Wait!” Squirrel runs to the bamboo and gnaws off an armful of tender tips.

Panda starts munching. “Mmm... Yes...” she mumbles. Tastes good.” She stands up slowly.

“Shall we go to your den?” Squirrel says. “Then you can rest.”

“What’s a den?” Panda asks.

Squirrel sighs and pulls her friend along. On the way she points things out and talks about them. About the sun that makes the same journey every day. And the wind that always makes different journeys.

And the snail who wanted to go on a journey but turned out to be too slow. The river that laughs and splashes without even knowing why. And so on and so on until Panda knows everything again.

When they reach the den, Panda lets out a happy cry, “I know this place, this is my den!”

Phew, thinks Squirrel.

Panda looks at her. Her eyes sparkle as if there are stars in them.

“Now I remember,” she says. “You’re Squirrel, my friend. And you’re right, a friend never lets you down. Thanks, Squirrel.”

Squirrel leaps into Panda’s arms and they stand like that for a while, rocking back and forth.