Homesick

On a day without mist or dark clouds, Panda points at the sun, high in the sky.

“The sun is on its way to the next mountain peak, as always,” she says. “It will sink behind the mountain and then it will get dark. I’d like to know where the sun goes to sleep. And where it hides its light all night.”

“Why?” Squirrel asks.

“No reason. You have to stay curious, though, Squirrel, or life will get boring. Shall we follow the sun tomorrow to find out where it sleeps?”

“Are you nuts?” Squirrel yelps. “We’d have to go all the way down the mountain, across the big valley, up the next mountain and over the top. That’s far too far! And exhausting! And dangerous!

“Wild dogs! Snow leopards! And eagles that prey on squirrels! Ravines you can fall into! Boulders thundering down! Much too scary.”

“You’re not a squirrel,” Panda says, “you’re a chicken.”

“I’m not coming!” Squirrel squeaks. “Fine, I’ll go by myself,” Panda says. “Right now. I’ll see you tonight, Squirrel, or maybe tomorrow. It’s hard to say.”

“Don’t go! Stay here!” Squirrel clings to Panda’s leg.

But Panda breaks free and strides away into the bamboo, angry that her friend won’t come with her.

Squirrel runs up into a treetop. With tears in her eyes, she watches until Panda becomes a dot. A dot that disappears. I’ll never see her again, she thinks sadly.

She creeps into her nest and tries to swallow the little drops of sadness that rise up, the big gulps of fear.

Slowly she dozes off.

And Panda? She walks and walks for hours until she reaches the valley. She skirts around a village and a herd of goats, trudges through a muddy swamp and wades across a bouldery river. She comes to the foot of the next mountain.

The last sliver of sunlight is shining on the peak. Soon, darkness will fall. Panda sits down with a deep sigh and stares into space. A strange feeling is growing in her belly. She’s not hungry and she doesn’t feel sick. It’s something else. A feeling she’s never had before.

She closes her eyes and imagines her cave. And Squirrel. The strange feeling grows and grows. It’s making Panda really sad.

She sees Owl sitting on a branch.

“What do you call this feeling, Owl?” she asks.

“Which feeling, Panda?”

“When you really, really miss the place you come from.”

“You’re homesick,” Owl says. “It’s called homesickness.”

“And how do I get rid of it?”

“You can’t. Ever. Unless you go back.”

Panda looks at the mountaintop. She’s not going up there. Not with this ball of homesickness growing bigger and heavier inside her.

“Thanks, Owl!” she calls as she turns around. She walks back across the valley, back up her own mountain.

Meanwhile, Squirrel has dozed off for the fourth time. But she wakes with a start to a strange sound. As if something is knocking on her hollow tree.

She sticks her head out and sees...Panda!

“Panda! Back already?” she cries. “Did you find out where the sun sleeps?”

“No, Squirrel. I turned back halfway. I felt too homesick for my cave and our snug little spot here and especially for...um...”

Squirrel is curious. “For what?”

“Especially homesick for you, of course,” Panda says, feeling shy all of a sudden.

Squirrel flies up to hug Panda’s neck. “Are you sorry your trip failed?” she whispers in Panda’s ear.

“Failed?” Panda says in surprise. “I still don’t know where the sun sleeps, but now I know what it’s like to feel homesick. And that’s something I’ll never forget.”

“Oh.” Squirrel doesn’t really understand. For a moment they both stand in silence.

“Will you come and sleep in my den, Squirrel?” Panda asks. “Nice and warm together?”

In the den, Panda can’t keep her eyes open for another second.

“Homesick... Homesick,” she hears Squirrel mumbling as she falls asleep.

“What a special feeling that must be,” Squirrel mutters. “Tomorrow I’ll go and search for it. I’ll go all by myself, too.”