Banana (& The White Squirrel of Crawford St.) 

(for Jess & Banana)

by rahim ladha

There was a girl named Banana. Banana was a bit of an older gal. She was missing a part of one ear cause sometimes the world takes a little bit of you, but it doesn’t make you any less sweet. 

Banana was a dreamer. She’d kick her feet in her mom’s bed whenever she slept, sometimes dreaming of when she was a younger one chasing after one of her brothers or sisters in play. Sometimes she’d dream about what their lives were like cause she really didn’t see them anymore. But her mom would tell her that part of the reason we close our eyes is so that we can see the ones we love and who we miss anytime we wanted to, like they were imprinted on our eyelids.

One day, Banana dreamed of a day where for some reason, someone had left the door open. It was a Spring morning, comfortably warm with a gentle breeze swirling through the upstairs door leading down the black metal staircase to the backyard.  

Banana woke to the aroma of freshly baked bread breezing in from the bakery down the street on Bloor (& it beckoned to her)

But she was gently resting in her mom’s bed. And her mom decided to sleep in a little late that morning because she was having a few hard days and really needed the rest.  

Banana figured a little walk on her own wouldn’t harm anyone, so she pawed her way out of the cozy, took a big yawning stretch & lazily traipsed down the steps from her mom’s room & walked gently into the spring morning air.  

And though it was the aroma of freshly baked bread that woke & beckoned to her, out of the corner of her right eye, Banana saw a white squirrel run down one of the trees on Crawford and run down south on the street, away from Bloor.  

Banana fancied the idea of having a little bread from the bakery if she sidled up to the front window & looked in with her sad, sweet eyes.  

But she’d never seen a white squirrel before, and figured that they might want to play, so she skipped down the street, south of Bloor, on Crawford, to see if she could find them.  

But by the time she reached Harbord, Banana felt a little nervous. She’d never been this far away from her mom before, and it felt a little frightening.   

And at the moment that she felt the most fear she had felt in her little, long life, from one of the last trees on Crawford before Bloor, The White Squirrel of Crawford St. skipped down the branches to the sidewalk in front of Banana.   

For some reason, Banana felt like crying, when The White Squirrel of Crawford St. asked her ‘What’s wrong, friend?’

Banana understood what The White Squirrel of Crawford St. was saying to her (which was strange because she didn’t speak squirrel) and she felt like The White Squirrel of Crawford St. could understand her so she said ‘Well, I ran out of my mom’s bed because I woke up and I caught the aroma of freshly-baked bread in the air from a bakery on Bloor but then I saw you & decided to run but now I’m really far from my mom & I’m kind of frightened.’ 

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. eyed Banana kindly & said ‘Well, I could walk back with you if you like and we can find your mom’s bed & maybe when she wakes up she’ll take you to the bakery and you can have some bread and might even want to share a little with me.’   

Banana was excited but was feeling something new and she didn’t know how to understand the overwhelm. But she understood the kindness of The White Squirrel of Crawford St. and nodded her head & said ‘I would really like to do that, thank you, little White Squirrel of Crawford St.’ 

‘You’re always welcome, Banana.’   

Banana stopped & looked at the very gentle eyes of The White Squirrel of Crawford St. She hadn’t told The White Squirrel of Crawford St. her name.  

‘How did you know my name, White Squirrel of Crawford St?’

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. bowed her head gently, with a kind smile & then looked up & said ‘Let’s go for the walk & we’ll talk about it.’ 

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. began to lazily stroll up Crawford, back to Bloor and to where Banana’s mom lived & Banana caught up with her and the two of them began to walk home, together.   

‘White Squirrel of Crawford St, I’ve never seen you before.’ (Banana skipped over a couple of cracks in the pavement & caught another gentle breeze of wind that tickled her fur in an odd way)  

‘Well, Banana, I only show up for the real special ones whenever they decide to go for their walk. You happened to choose today to go for your walk so I figured I would say hello.’ 

‘Well, I’m glad you did White Squirrel of Crawford St. You’re a very nice squirrel – I don’t even feel like chasing you – I don’t really know why.’ 

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. looked up at Banana as she continued to stroll beside her, on their long walk back to Bloor. 

‘Banana, have you ever been to Shaw Street?’ 

‘Oh no, White Squirrel of Crawford St. Never on my own. I once got loose from my leash but I didn’t want to run away from my mom because she’d worry and she’d get sad and I never liked her getting sad. Whenever she would get the sads I’d come by and sleep right beside her to let her know she didn’t need to be sad because I loved her very much.’ 

‘You’re very sweet,’ said The White Squirrel of Crawford St.  

The air sometimes shifts in our lives & the breeze can feel new, like a tiny feeling we’ve never felt that can be overwhelming.  

Banana noticed it, after a few houses. Something was strange, different & new. She could still taste the aroma of freshly baked bread from the bakery on Bloor, but there were no more people on the sidewalk. Or in the houses. Or anywhere. The air around had suddenly become quiet. She couldn’t even hear any of the kids playing on this warm Saturday spring morning. Banana felt like she was walking through one of the paintings on her mom’s wall & she was suddenly frightened & stopped. The White Squirrel of Crawford St. took a couple of extra steps ahead of her before pausing, and then turning around to face Banana. 

‘White Squirrel of Crawford St...I”m scared.’ 

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. walked up to Banana and placed her paw on Banana’s paw. 

‘I know.’  

‘I can’t go back, can I?’ 

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. nestled up to Banana’s chin, for Banana had placed it on the sidewalk as she lay down.  

‘Banana? Are you the dreamer, or the dream? 

Banana felt like she kind of knew the answer but didn’t really want to say just yet, for to say the thing we are afraid of, is to acknowledge & know. And sometimes to know such things can be terribly frightening without the kindness of another.  
 
But The White Squirrel of Crawford St. happened to be the kindness of another & let Banana know.  

‘You are both. You are Banana, dreaming of the aroma of freshly baked bread breezing in from the bakery down the street on Bloor. And it beckoned to you & you followed.  

‘You are also the dream that your mom is dreaming right now, after you left her to go for your long walk & the one who is imprinted on the inside of her eyelids. So, whenever your mom dreams, she will find you. You are not lost; you are not alone.” 

Banana looked down.  

‘Do you think she’ll mind that I went for a long walk and left her bed where she was dreaming & will miss me if I’m not there when she wakes up?’

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. allowed herself a little smile. 

“I promise you, Banana. I will always be here to make sure that whenever she blinks or closes her eyes to dream, she will see you.” 

And then the question Banana was most afraid of to ever ask, but a question that felt right.  

‘Do you think she’ll mind if some days, I go over to Shaw, or even Roxton? Will she miss me?’ 

The White Squirrel of Crawford St., you have to understand, was here for this question. For Banana, specifically, but for this question. It’s the question every sweet Banana that’s ever lived would ask one day so The White Squirrel of Crawford St. knew how to answer, truthfully, gently & kindly.  

‘She might mind. And she will miss you. But now, for certain, you’ll always come home to her.’  

Banana pawed at the pavement below her. She felt a little less afraid but still a little scared, but the kind of scared any sweet soul would feel when feeling something new & for Banana, everything would now be new again.  

‘Do you mind, The White Squirrel on Crawford St...would you mind, if we went over to Shaw? I’ve never been there on my own before and I’d like to see it.’  

The White Squirrel of Crawford St. put her paw over Banana’s paw and said ‘I promise to be here with you when we go. There’s an alley two houses down that’s a shortcut and there’s a kind old woman living there that always leaves out a little fresh bread for anyone travelling on a bit of a long journey. And on a lovely Spring day where the weather is gently warm & the breeze is soothing & cool, I know we could both use a slice of freshly baked bread.’ 

Banana took one more look down Crawford St. and could see all the way down from Harbord to where her mom was sleeping, to the bed she was no longer going to be sleeping in, but to where she was in the great dream, & whispered a quiet promise that not even The White Squirrel of Crawford St. could hear (but they had heard others give the same promise & knew Banana would keep it because that’s what every Banana would ever do) & then set off with her new friend to the alleyway a couple of houses down to Shaw, to have a piece of fresh bread & to go for a long walk in her dream that would never end.