As soon as Leila heard the phrase, groaned in exasperation by Mr. Ray to Mr. Joby when the end-of-recess bell rang for Little Flowers Nursery, she knew what she had to do.

Leila raced all the way back to her classroom, heart thumping in her tiny chest. The idea flashed in tandem through her mind; it was clear and beautiful, like the perfectly formed hibiscus Mummy had once pointed out in their garden. Leila imagined her idea sprouting, then growing into leaves and stems and petals as soon as she told the others.

Her squeals startled everyone when she burst into the room. Ms. Cassie instinctively scolded, 'Leila! No running in the halls!' before she caught herself. This was the first time in a month that anybody had seen Leila smile.

'Sorry, ma'am!' Leila chirped. It was Reading Time, so she tried very hard to focus on the three bears gobbling Goldilocks’ porridge. Difficult for an excited four year-old; but Leila was not ready to forget what she had practised with Mummy and Daddy every night before starting preschool. 

I’m big. I’m good. I’m brave.

When the bell rang again, she leaned across the table she shared with three other nursery scholars. ‘I’m going to be Captain today,’ Leila declared. This was major news for her table-mates. Leila was a team player. She never stepped forward in any leadership capacity, preferring to defer to Tabby M. or Rahul J.

Rahul J. shrugged good-naturedly, but Tabby frowned. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘You can’t, you haven’t done an-y-thing.’ This was true. To score the coveted role of a Captain in Class Petunia, you either needed to win at Strawberry Dips without ever coming in last (essentially blindfolded Tag where you suddenly dropped and called out ‘STRAWBERRY DIPS!’; the last person to touch your head was It); gain two gold stars from Ms. Cassie in one day (near impossible); or you had to tell a joke so hilarious that you got Sarwar A., the most sombre boy in class, to squirt juice out of his nose. To Tabby’s credit, she was batting two out of four while Rahul only won Strawberry Dips because he was a miniature springbok himself. 

Nobody else had come close.

But there was a fourth caveat, and Leila knew this. She took a deep breath. ‘I have,’ she paused for dramatic effect, ‘a super awesome, mega fat-nastic, GI-GAN-TIC idea!’ By now, the whole of Class Petunia had gathered around the table to see what was happening. All the kids gasped - and gasped once more when Sarwar shot juice from his nostrils out of sheer shock.

The word gigantic had tickled the children pink when Ms. Cassie read them a book about a boy who befriended a dragon. She’d used it to describe a huge, scaly monster curled around the Burj Khalifa (this prompted a dozen nightmares at home about fire-breathing reptiles roaming the skies of Dubai). 

Tabby, so often Petunia’s de facto commander, then declared a fourth requirement for achieving the position: if you wanted to bypass the other rules, you had to come up with something gi-gan-tic that the whole class could do together. So far, not one other child had pitched anything for fear of being shot down and possibly teased their whole lives.

Leila had just swept the floor with Tabby’s silly commandments.

Tabby immediately stood, ready to fight. ‘Pooh!’ She cried. ‘I’ll bet it’s something stupid. I bet I could do it better.’ But by now, Petunia was tired of bossy Tabby and her mean-queeny behaviour. ‘Let Leila talk!’ They cried. ‘We wanna listen!’ They gathered behind Leila, squaring off against Tabby and cheering.

And when Leila told them what her brainwave was, what Mr. Ray had said and why she was doing it, even Tabby listened with big, awed eyes. The class quietened for the final verdict. Tabby hesitated, then gave Leila a GI-GAN-TIC hug. ‘You’re the Captain,’ she said.

The hurrahs nearly raised the roof. There was a new boss in town!

That night in bed, Leila pulled out a photo from under her pillow. In this, Mummy and Daddy were making silly faces at the camera while baby Leila drooled. Leila kissed Mummy’s black curls. ‘I did it,’ she whispered. ‘I was really brave today.’ Then she slid the photo back under and closed her eyes tightly. Daddy wouldn’t be in to tuck her for a while because he had to work nights after his long, long leave - not that he lately even tried. The neighbours’ college-aged daughter, Karina, was paid to cook Leila’s dinner and read her bedtime story. 

Leila could hear Karina watching some TV show where lots of people were always laughing and hooting. She still sank deeply under waves of sleep. Her last drowsy thought was, I’m going to get my family back.

*

On the big day, Leila solemnly slipped her loudest toy under her shirt: a Patty Cake whistle on a plastic daisy chain. 

A marching band played in her mind through the morning as the rest of Petunia arrived, each classmate secretly revealing their instrument to her between school activities. Tabby displayed a jangly red accordion. Rahul showed off his play dhol. Sarwar brought two noisemakers that Leila knew sounded like trumpets, fresh from his recent birthday party. And there were still others who went all out with what they’d brought: strings of tiny bells, a small pan with a teeny spatula, squeaking little dogs, toy police cars and their switch-on sirens. One boy had even packed his mother’s clickety egg-beater.

The kids agreed that today was best for their exciting event: when a teacher’s conference let the school out for the rest of the morning. Since more than a few mummies and daddies had hectic careers, they would enjoy a slightly longer recess than usual. Perfect timing!

What the kids didn’t know was how they worried Ms. Cassie with their thrumming energy and nonstop giggling - though she could not bring herself to question them when she saw Leila’s shining eyes and flushed cheeks. It was good for the little girl to surround herself with friends. The evening before however, Ms. Cassie had called several parents to request quicker pick-ups. ‘The children have been wound up by Leila, I’m afraid,’ she’d explained, which was enough for them to put in for early leaves at their jobs.

The last bell rang at 11:00 am.

Class Petunia swarmed into the playground, which was bordered on three sides by the school building and a tall hedge; the fourth was a wire fence that led directly to a busy street sidewalk. A crossing guard always waited there, ready to stand between runaways and careless drivers.

Leila stood in the middle of a wide circle that her friends formed, each brandishing their toy. Paulose C. bent and tracked mud across his cheeks. Rahul fastened a wreath of dead leaves (topped with a questionably brown feather) around his head. Sara P. rucked her T-shirt over her hair like a nun drafted on the frontlines. The other kids set their jaws grimly. Tabby locked gazes with Leila, and nodded. They were ready. 

Leila closed her eyes. She thought of what sparked this grand show: Mr. Ray buffeted by screaming children in the crowded hallway after recess ended, nearly spilling his coffee all over Mr. Joby. His gnashed teeth. His inspiring comment.

Damn kids! Raising hell enough to wake the dead!

Leila took a deep, deep breath. I’m big. I’m brave, Mummy. She blew hard on her whistle and the shrill blast echoed across the playground, startling even resting birds in the hedge. 

‘LET’S MAKE SOME NOISE!’

CLANG! TH-WEE! BANG! WOO! Ms. Cassie, watching over them, nearly jumped out of her skin. She didn’t know which way to turn. 

What a ruckus! The children shook their bells, roared like lions and their noisemakers unfurled just as elephants trumpet their trunks. Teachers sprinted from the school building, fearing a terrible accident - only to see tiny police sirens and train whistles screeching at ear-splitting volume levels. Tabby played her accordion horribly out of sync as the rest of her classmates hooted, hollered and even tossed their hair around like women in pulp movies who dance on hot coals. Soon, most forgot why they were actually doing this and simply linked arms to sing their favourite nursery rhymes, mangling the lyrics poor Ms. Cassie had spent months teaching them.

Round and round this ring of chaos zipped a blurred form: Leila, blowing her whistle every minute with a watchful eye on the playground’s street exit. Her hair streamed behind her as she ran, knowing she would see Mummy soon; see her for the first time since that nice old nurse from the emergency room had told her that Mummy would not be coming home. Ever.

Now Leila was sure Mummy was around the corner, right where she had glimpsed Mummy’s last smile before a careless car had whacked her to the ground. Her mother had always been a light sleeper. And just as Leila turned a fourth lap, she spied a dark head full of curls at the edge of the wire fence. Without breaking stride, Leila bolted towards it. 

Her feet sprouted wings. The road up ahead looked wider now, its hustle-bustle thick with vehicles. She was sure that in only a moment, she would fly straight into Mummy’s warmest hug. 

Then another pair of strong arms pulled her up hard - from behind. A gruff but terrified voice cried, ‘Leila! Stop!’ 

Leila blinked, legs cycling in the air. ‘Daddy?’ Indeed it was; the parents of Class Petunia had arrived. They chased, yelled or simply plucked their kids mid-movement to head back into the school building, only pausing for a furious word with Ms. Cassie on the way. Leila’s classmates were lost and scared in the uproar - many bawled as the giants ambushed them. Their party was over.

But Leila’s Daddy was not supposed to be here. He was never there anyway, so why now? She struggled against him to get to the street, squirming as he desperately held on. ‘Stop!’ He shouted again. ‘It’s too dangerous!’

‘Let go, Daddy!’ Leila screamed. The curls were turning the corner; she was so close. ‘It’s Mummy! She’s here, SHE’S HERE!’ Leila poked her elbows out, biffing Daddy in the ribs. ‘What?!’ Daddy gasped, but he still didn’t release his grip. If Leila caught Mummy, then nothing else would matter - no, Daddy, no, I’m good -

The head came into view at the entrance. ‘MUMMY!’ Leila bellowed - but it wasn’t. It wasn’t, it wasn’t Mummy; the crossing guard froze by the wire door, stunned by the scene before him. His brown ringlets tumbled askew about his yellow-vested shoulders, for he had lost his jaunty hat to a strong wind.

Leila didn’t stop screaming. She couldn’t stop, even as she collapsed against her father’s chest; even when he took her by the shoulders, shook and shook and pleaded for her to calm down. She didn’t stop screaming until Daddy hoisted her onto his hip with her heavy head on his broad shoulder, where Leila suddenly fell asleep.

*

Daddy told Karina to take the evening off. In his crumpled office clothes, he fried potato Smiles and added baby carrots to a plate where penguins wore jackets - a second birthday present for Leila. They watched cartoons till Leila drooped.

Later that night, small and sad in her pink pyjamas, Leila explained everything. Daddy closed his eyes. He put his forehead against his baby’s soft brow. Then they cried, big tears seeping down their cheeks, because they could finally tell each other how much they both missed Mummy.