A Basket for the Right Hero

Bela sorts metal at a junkyard after school. She wears thick gloves and a yellow helmet. She puts old pipes in one pile. She puts old wheels in another.

The junkyard is full of broken cars, bikes, and fridges. A friendly brown dog lives there. It follows every worker around. It naps on every warm car roof.

Today, a basket sits on the front counter. It holds six hard green pears. A note hangs from the handle.

Bela reads the note. "For the hero who found my key. Thank you! From the farmer on Hill Road."

"Hero?" Bela says to the dog. "Which hero?"

The dog wags its tail and says nothing.

Dilan walks in, pushing a wheel in front of him. He is Bela's best friend, and he works at the junkyard too. He reads the note too.

"The farmer lost his tractor key in the junkyard yesterday," Dilan says. "He looked for two hours. You gave him the key at the end."

"I did?" Bela says. She thinks about it. "Yes, I did. I put it in his hand."

"Then the basket is yours," says Dilan. "Congratulations, hero."

Bela smiles and takes a pear. She bites it. The pear is as hard as a stone. She makes a face and puts it back.

"It is not ready," she says. "It needs one week."

"A hero must be patient," Dilan says.

Bela holds the basket close. Then she frowns. "But I only carried the key," she says. "I did not find it. You found it, Dilan."

"Me?" Dilan says. He drops the wheel with a loud bang. "I did not find it either."

"You pulled it out of a pile of old pipes," Bela says.

"Yes, but I did not know where to look," says Dilan. "The owner told me to check the pipes at the back."

Bela pushes the basket into his hands. "Then you are the hero."

"No, no, no," says Dilan. He holds the basket as if it is hot. "We must ask the owner."

They walk through the junkyard together. Bela carries nothing. Dilan carries the basket. The dog walks behind them. Its tail swings from side to side.

The owner sits in a small metal hut. He eats a sandwich and reads a magazine about tractors.

"A basket!" he says. "For me?"

"It is for the hero who found the key," Dilan says. "We think it is you. You told me where to look."

The owner puts down his sandwich. He looks at the basket for a long time. Then he shakes his head.

"I only pointed at the pipes," he says. "I did not choose them myself. A customer told me to look there. He wore a green cap."

"Which customer?" asks Bela.

"The one who buys bike wheels every month," says the owner. "He is over by the fence. Go and ask him."

The three of them walk to the fence. The dog walks with them. A tall man in a green cap stands there. He holds a bike wheel up to the light. He turns it slowly.

Bela explains the story. The man listens with his mouth open. Then he starts to laugh.

"Me? A hero?" he says. "I only stood there and watched. It was not my idea."

"Whose idea was it?" asks Dilan.

"I will tell you what I saw," the man says. "The farmer cried and walked in circles. Everybody looked at the big pile of engines. But the dog did not look at the engines. It went to a small pile of pipes at the back."

The man points a finger at the dog. "It dug there for ten minutes. I told the owner, 'Look where the dog digs.' The owner told Dilan. Dilan found the key under the pipes."

Nobody speaks. Everybody looks at the dog.

The dog sits down in the dust. It turns its head to the left. It looks at the basket, and then at Bela.

"The dog is the hero," Dilan says slowly.

"The dog is the hero," says the owner. He picks up his sandwich again.

"The dog is the hero," the man in the green cap says. He puts his hand on his heart.

Bela laughs so hard that she has to sit on a tire. "I carried a basket for a dog," she says. "And I ate half a stone."

Dilan puts the basket on the ground in front of the dog. He takes a pear and holds it out with a flat hand.

The dog sniffs the pear. It sniffs again. Then it sneezes and turns its head away. It does not want the pear at all.

"It does not like it," says Bela.

"The dog is a smart hero," says Dilan. "It knows the pears are not ready."

The owner finishes his sandwich and wipes his hands. "So what do we do with six pears that nobody can eat?" he asks.

Bela thinks for a moment. Then she picks up the basket. She walks to the office window. The sun shines on a long shelf there. She puts the basket there, in the warmest spot.

"We wait one week," she says. "Then the dog gets the first pear."

The dog follows her. It jumps on the chair under the shelf. It turns around three times and lies down. It puts its chin on the basket and closes its eyes.