DESERT DREAM
Harrow International School Hong Kong, Betsy Rowold, Fiction: Group 2
M
um, do we have to go to the tombs?” asked Ellie. “Well, your dad and I would like to
go,” answered Ellie’s mum. “Are we there?” asked Jackie, in his baby voice. Jackie
was only five. He had his parent’s blond hair, and his mum’s lovely brown eyes. Ellie,
on the other hand, had her Dad’s emerald eyes, and brown hair - different to the
whole family. Some people asked if they were really related!
The Smiths were on holiday; their first time in China. Kate, Ellie’s mum, had always wanted
to visit Beijing. Beep. Beep. BEEP! Mum parked the car. “Finally,” thought Ellie. “Woah! this place
is amazing,” said Mum. “Breathtaking,” Dad agreed. “Cool,” added Jackie. “Let’s go!” said Mum
happily. She was so excited, she got out of the car and sped off. “Um, honey, what about Jackie?”
shouted dad. “Oh!,” mum cried, and ran back to take her son out of his car seat.
The Smiths entered the tombs through a towering, cardinal red gateway, crowned with yellow
glazed tiles, and walked down a gloomy staircase. “See, there’s nothing here!” Ellie whispered.
After walking around the dark halls, eventually, the Smiths re-emerged into the bright day. “See,
I told you there would be nothing in there, nothing!” grumbled Ellie walking back towards the car.
“This is interesting,” said Dad. “My guidebook says, the gateway to the tombs is supposed to have
magical powers!”
“Yeah right,” mumbled Ellie, as she went through the gateway. “Well, I wish it would magic us
hundreds of miles away!”
Suddenly, a flash of light surrounded the Smiths! “Where are we?” said Ellie drowsily. “Wait
are we…in a Yurt!” “Yurt!” shouted Jackie. “What?” said dad. “No, who?” said mum, pointing in
shock at the four other people in the room.
Standing in front of them was another family of four. The mother, Bayarmaa, was wearing
a del of olive-coloured silk and a round cap decorated with long strands of blue and red beads.
Odval, a girl Ellie’s age, was wearing a blue silk del with a yellow sash, black leggings, brown
boots, and a round cap with beads. Bataar, a little boy like Jackie, wore a grey cotton del and
round fur cap. Sikh, the father, wore a del of brown cotton and grey cap. They all had brown eyes,
and thick black hair
“Hello. Do you know where we are?” asked Ellie. “And how we got here?” asked Dad.
“I am Odval. This is our home, the Gobi desert! Why, you have come from Beijing, haven’t
you?” said the girl in Mongolian. “Oh, they speak Mongolian! I speak Mongolian!” said Ellie.
“What?” gasped Mum. “Well, you know all the time I spend in my room? Didn’t you ever wonder
what I was doing? Maybe I was doing something! Learning Mongolian maybe!” said Ellie sourly.
“This is Odval. She says we are in the Gobi desert! And she knows we have come from Beijing.”
Ellie translated.
The mother stepped forward and greeted Ellie. “Sain baina uu. Hello. My name is Bayarmaa.
This is Odval. You can call her sunflower. This is Bataar, my son, and Sikh my husband. We see
many travelers like you. I think the mischievous spirits brought you here.”
“What?” the Smiths asked.
“The spirits of the tombs of course!” answered Bayarmaa. “You must have asked for something
when you crossed the gateway.”
“
