Free A Tale of Highly Unusual Magic by Lisa Papademetriou Page B

said, “Nice goat!” Then she gave him another thumbs-up.
    The boy said something else.
    â€œHe wants to know if you want to see them more closely,” Wali explained. “They are both female.”
    â€œOh, sure!” Leila replied, nodding. Another thumbs-up. She had never used this gesture before, but it seemed likethe only appropriate response to this particular situation.
    The boy led over the goats, and she took some more photos. The white one tried to nibble the end of her scarf, which made Leila laugh. She scolded her, and petted her neck. “Who’s a good goat?” she asked. “Who’s a sweetie goat? Hm?” The goat butted at her, and she kissed her head. “Oh, I just want to take her home with me!”
    The goatherd looked at Wali, who said something in Punjabi and gestured to Leila. She assumed he had translated what she said as the goatherd showed off the goats, opening their mouths and showing their teeth and everything. Leila could see that he was really proud of his goats. She nodded and smiled and petted them some more.
    â€œHe wants to know which one you like the best,” Wali said.
    â€œI like them both,” Leila said. “Well, I guess the white one. She has personality.” She patted the white one again. “And I love the henna job.”
    Wali and the goatherd exchanged a few words. Then the goat boy bowed low to Leila, and she gave him another smile. The goatherd said something else in Punjabi.
    â€œHe wants five hundred rupees now,” Wali said.
    â€œWhat? What for?”
    â€œThe goat,” Wali explained, as if it was perfectly obvious.
    Leila’s happy feeling dried up. She had heard of beggars like this—who demanded money when someone took their photo. She was about to refuse, but when she looked down, she saw that the boy had no shoes, only thick calluses on dusty feet. She felt a deep sense of shame.
    Maybe I can’t help them all, Leila thought, remembering Rabeea’s words. But I can help this boy with the goats. He’s walking around, hoping people will photograph his fancy goat. That’s insane. I’m probably the only customer he’ll have all day. All week . It wasn’t like Lahore was crawling with tourists.
    Leila dug around in her pocket and pulled out five hundred rupees. She wasn’t really sure how much real money that was. How many dollars. It took a ton of rupees to make one dollar, she knew that much. The goatherd smiled and said shukria.
    â€œShukria,” she said back to him, and he smiled again.
    â€œThat’s a great goat!” Wali said in excitement, which made her laugh.
    Well, he had a point. The goat was pretty cute.
    Leila scrolled through the photos of the goat on her camera. They came out really well. There was one where it looked like the goat was smiling, giving her a knowing look. She couldn’t wait to show Ta’Mara. She would think it was hilarious. Which it was.
    Fancy goats.
    Hah!
    Even the goats get dressed up for Eid here, Leila thought, smiling, and was immediately distracted by Wali, who had spotted the man selling Spider-Man balloons. Leila didn’t have time to wonder how soon the Eid holiday was, or what the goats had to do with it.
    Ice cream does not take long to eat, unless you are seven and lapping up tiny licks in order to make the treat last longer. Leila didn’t mind, even though she had finished her ice cream long ago. She was enjoying sitting with Wali, scrolling through her photos, looking at the goat. She was enjoying not being home with that creepy book, and hardly even thinking about it, except for once in a while. But even then, it didn’t seem as scary as it had thatmorning. In fact, Leila was beginning to believe she had imagined the whole thing. Jet lag can explain a great deal.
    The ice-cream place was clean and bright, and could have been located in any mall in the United States. Leila felt comfortable there.