*
The next afternoon they returned to the landing, where a series of wooden sailboats were docked, rocking in the blue-green waters. The Habibti, larger than the rest, was moored in the shade of a grove of date palms growing close to the riverbank, their fronds rustling with every sultry slip of wind. Their crew meandered along the decks, their long robes floating pale through the light and dark.
Kitty spotted them first. The instant the gangplank was lowered, she tore across it with a happy bark, leaping through the milling sailors and vendors and tour guides to reach them. Jack laughed and dropped down to grab her just as she leapt up to kiss him, squeaking with joy. Madeleine dropped down, too, and the dog whipped out of Jack’s arms and into hers, pressing her head into Madeleine’s side, whining now, her tail a blur.
“Mother,” said Helen, watching the scene transpire, “I want a dog.”
“Later,” replied Margaret. “When you’re done with your studies. We’ll get two.”
Jack laughed again and straightened, and Robins hurried down to meet them, directing the unloading of the autos, consulting with the colonel about their itinerary and supplies. Madeleine looked around, testing the back of her hand against her neck and cheek, but Jack was still busy, and she was hot, and her legs were cramped from the motorcar ride, so she picked up her skirts and made her way up the gangplank, followed by Helen and Margaret, still debating about the proper time for dogs.
She wanted to change out of her gritty clothes. She wanted to let down her hair and wash and comb it, and drink something cool and tart, and take a nap with the windows open in their cabin so she could listen to the river as she slept.
She got as far as unpinning her hair at the vanity when Jack opened the door, swiftly scanned the room, and said, “You don’t have Kitty?”
“What?” Her hands lowered. “No. I thought she was with you.”
“She isn’t.”
Madeleine followed him out of the cabin. They searched every deck, every closet and chamber, even the places a dog couldn’t possibly be. At first, it was just the two of them, then together with Rosalie and Robins and the crew, then with Margaret and Helen as well, emerged from their cabins at the ongoing commotion.
They searched the landing and the dirt roads beyond it, Thabit and his auto quickly rehired to help. No one had seen the Airedale. No one noticed one extra brown dog among the many, darting between donkeys and huts.
Kitty was gone, lost to the tremendous, unfolding land.
CHAPTER 20
We searched for days.
We called her name until our voices grew hoarse, until those two small syllables, Kit-ty, came out cracked with despair.
You might think it odd to be in such a state over a lost dog. You might, but I hope you don’t, because I hope you will be the sort of person who understands what your Aunt Katherine once said to Vincent: You can get the measure of a man by observing the way he treats his animals.
Eventually, we had to sail on. The Browns, especially, were on a schedule, and we had already lingered four days past what we had originally planned.
Before we left, your father offered a princely reward to any of the locals who could find her and get her back to us. It was all that we could do.
*
I began to slow down. I wanted to sleep more, particularly in the high heat of the afternoon. I still appreciated the unhurried pace of the boat, the scent of the river wafting through our cabin at night. I still appreciated a great many things, in fact, but I just didn’t want to venture out for hours and hours any longer to go exploring. No more exhausting day trips, and nothing outdoors overnight. I was content to sit on the deck of the boat and watch the reeds sway along the shore; or the villagers washing clothing and filling urns in the shallows; or the tall, slender minarets of the mosques gliding by.
I was feeling, I guess, sunken. A sunken version of myself. A heavier version, one that wanted, very much, just to sit and eat and admire the moon forging pewter shadows along the dunes.
And, in truth, I could not stop myself from scrutinizing the banks for Kitty. Day or night, I couldn’t stop looking for her. Every mangy tan dog loping along made me sit up a bit. （Egypt, in case you are wondering, has a great many tan dogs.） But it was never she.
*
Carrie Endres joined us in Aswan. She was a nurse of excellent reputation, and your father had hired her as a surprise to me. I don’t know why that enraged me so much; it’s foolish, in retrospect. Carrie was kind and competent and I am deeply ashamed now, all these months later, that I was so short with her at first. It wasn’t her fault that your father had gone behind my back. I doubt she had the faintest idea he had. But springing the foregone conclusion of her upon me in the middle of our honeymoon made me feel like a child being punished. It made me feel like I could not be trusted with my own body, with my own health. It was the first serious disagreement we ever had—it was the only serious disagreement we ever had—and he won it, because Carrie had voyaged all the way from the States to watch over me, and Jack declared up and down that she wasn’t going back unless I was going along with her, and that was that.