Tales of the Gobi Desert
Kowloon Junior School, Armaan Dayal, Fiction: Group 2
Chapter one: Holidays!
“All right!” said Ananye happily, climbing up on his large, double humped and rather adaptable
Bactrian camel. “A week’s holiday! There’s no school and no homework until next Monday, and
I’ve got my favourite chocolates at home! Is this for real?”
Armaan, who was eighteen and two years older than his brother, brushed the sand off his
jacket. “What’s the matter?” asked Ananye. “You seem kinda bummed!”
“Naah, jus’ freezin’!” shivered Armaan, staring out into space.
The sand groaning under the camel’s hooves, the two brothers got home. The sandstorm
relented. After a warm snack of waffles, they switched on the news and listened.
“Emerald Limited wants to acquire the land on which the huts are in the Gobi desert for
commercial reasons. They have offered a huge price. There have also been blasts on the roads
beside the huts. What will happen next? Join us…” Armaan switched off the television and cut out
the mundane, monotonous and mechanical voice.
“Looks like we could crack the case!” said Armaan. Ananye grinned. “I reckon we go and
sleuth around,” said Armaan, excitedly.
“It’s a deal!” replied Ananye.
Chapter two: Wrecked!
At the scene, the two started snooping around; Armaan on one side while Ananye just wandered off.
“How unfortunate…!” Armaan muttered, ruefully. As he came near the huts, he put cupped
hands around his mouth and got ready to shout.
“Hellooo, is anybody there?” bellowed Armaan. No one seemed to be there. Just as he was
about to leave, a few crows took off, the wind started to howl, a strange eerie feeling set in. An
old woman in her hut at the far end marched out looking coldly directly into his eyes. “Err… could
you tell me what happened around here?” asked Armaan.
“I can,” she said, simply and unhesitatingly.
The old woman strode over to him with surprising agility. Armaan noticed she was wearing
tattered traditional clothes.
“Could you tell…” started off Armaan, but the old woman cut him off and shot him a
disgusted look.
“Tut, tut. I’ll do the talking.” She had a girlish British accent. She started off like a recorded
message. “On the third of November, I was walking to my hut ‘round the corner, there, when
I suddenly heard a bang. I scampered towards the noise and reached there just in time to see
two tall and thin men run away. That’s all, and now ’tis time for my evening tea, goodbye.” She
vanished before Armaan could say another word.
Armaan grew suspicious yet walked away. He told Ananye everything about the encounter
with the old woman; Ananye burst out laughing, then his expression changed. He was serious.
“Something is fishy around here. It’s not an accident.” Armaan concurred.
