Sasha's dummy

Sasha had a blue dummy that he called Binky. Binky went everywhere with him: in bed, in the pushchair, in the pocket of his coat. When Sasha put it in his mouth it went suck, suck, suck, and everything was fine.

One morning, Dad turned Binky over in his fingers. "Look, it has a little hole. I think Binky is tired. It's worked very hard." Sasha looked at the little hole. He looked at his shoes, which weren't baby shoes anymore. He didn't say anything.

That evening, something scratched in the big tree, scritch, scritch. Dad sat by the window with Sasha on his lap. "Do you hear that? There's a baby squirrel up there, in the hollow of the trunk. He's having trouble falling asleep. Maybe he'd like a dummy."

Sasha held Binky tight. "No." "All right," said Dad. "Think about it, and tell me." They listened to the little sound some more. Scritch, scritch. Then Sasha whispered, "Okay. But Binky goes with a kiss."

Dad took out a little cloth pouch. Sasha slipped Binky inside, wound a ribbon around it, and gave the kiss: mwah! Together they set the pouch on the windowsill. "Close your eyes," said Dad. "Squirrels are quick."

Sasha closed his eyes. Tip, tip, tip, went little paws on the sill, very softly. When he opened them, the pouch was gone. In its place there was a hazelnut.

Sasha picked it up. His mouth felt a little empty. He went suck, suck, suck on nothing, but it wasn't the same, and his eyes went all shiny. Dad didn't say a word. He fetched Boo, Sasha's teddy bear, and tucked him against Sasha's cheek.

Boo smelled of clean washing and bedtime. Sasha rubbed the bear's ear between his fingers, slowly, slowly. Dad sang the moon lullaby, very low, the same as always.

Out in the dark, the branches stirred a little, and from deep inside the hollow of the tree came a tiny sound: suck... suck... suck... Sasha smiled against Boo's ear. The hazelnut rolled onto the pillow. He fell asleep like that, his hand closed around the teddy, while the baby squirrel sucked on a blue dummy in the big tree.