A Far Away Home (8 page)

He knocked loudly at he door. “The principal is here for a visit.” He was hoping
to give them some bit of warning.

The principal pushed past Hassan into the home. He was sure he would catch whoever
it was that dared to have their own school. He was embarrassed to find only a woman,
probably the carpenter's wife, and a young woman, both
preparing a meal. He walked
into another room, looking for signs of a school. He even looked under the leeoffs
(padded mats on the floor). He noticed one other room. “What's in there?” he asked,
brusquely. He knew how rude this intrusion was into someone's home. To even think
to ask more was past the bounds of this or anyone's culture.

Hassan thought surely now they would be found out. He didn't know where Ali was or
how Shireen and students would not be in the middle of lessons. His heart was racing.
Ali and all the students must be in that room. Shireen boldly walked between the
principal and the door to the other room. He could see she was not afraid of him.
He was surprised a woman would dare to intervene. She didn't actually say anything,
just motioned him to look inside. He hesitated, then went through the door into an
empty room. Again there were a few shelves, leeoffs lining the room, and nothing
else. Shireen noticed there was a teacher edition of one of their textbooks on a
shelf. She tried not to look again, hoping the principal wouldn't notice.

He turned and came back into the main room. He had been so sure he was going to catch
and stop this secret school.
Now, he was thinking how to get out of this embarrassing
situation, although he still thought the school was here. “Excuse me for this intrusion
into your home. I had specific information that classes were being held here.” He
got a bit braver. “I know you have had classes. I don't know how you managed to get
rid of the evidence. Just know you will be watched.” With that last chilling statement,
he left.

Ali heard all of the conversation because he and a few children were on the flat
roof of the house. The children left, one by one, so as not to arouse suspicion,
each carrying her or his book. Ali told them not to return to these classes until
he or Shireen talked to their parents.

When Ali returned to the room where Hassan and Ali were talking, he looked at Shireen,
then his father, then over to his mother, who witnessed all of the earlier events.
Hassan was the first to speak. “It's not safe to continue the classes. We will all
be arrested or worse.”

Mariam, Shireen and Ali's mother, was very angry. “I won't have some stranger come
barging into my house, looking around, threatening my family. How dare he? Who does
he think he is?”

Shireen was next to speak. “For now, I think we should stop the classes, at least
until next spring. Winter is coming so we can't have classes then anyway. Let's see
what happens next spring.”

Ali was very quiet. He noticed his family was looking at him, waiting for him to
speak. “I think we can't just let them bully us. Some of my friends have been talking
about doing something to let them know we aren't afraid of them.”

Hassan spoke slowly. “Ali, they will be watching you. Be very careful. But, I wish
I were younger. I, too, would be doing something to let them know this is our town.”

***

That night, Ali and two of his friends made a plan. It would depend on Ali's skill
with the slingshot.

The next day the principal was talking to two of his teachers in his office. These
were his favorites, so they were sipping some tea while telling each other how well
they were doing. They were also talking about how the principal stopped the secret
school and how much afraid Ali and Shireen must be. That's when the window exploded,
and the teapot crashed into pieces, spilling hot tea onto the principal's lap. He
jumped up, yelling for help and that he was burned. Outside the three friends ran
for the river, putting as much distance between them and the school as possible.
Ali's slingshot had not missed.

The news spread quickly around Sharidure. Secretly the townspeople were proud that
someone dared to defy the principal, that he had been embarrassed, and had his suit
soaked in hot tea. They also wondered who could pull off such a stunt. No one seemed
to know. Of course, the principal tried to find out. He thought it had to have been
a gun and that someone tried to kill him. He called Kabul to report that, and asked
for guards to protect him. He also packed up his things and left on the next bus.

Meanwhile, the three teenagers sat by the river, trying to think of what to do next.
They were sure the principal would try to find out who fired a stone through his
window. They were pretty sure no one saw them. When it was dark, they walked back
to their homes, carefully avoiding the main street and the school. Shireen asked
Ali where he had been all afternoon and if he heard the news. “I was fishing with
some friends. What's the news?”

“Someone tried to shoot the principal. He wasn't hit, but he did get a lapful of
hot tea. I wish I could have seen it. Everyone is talking about it. He called Kabul
and asked for soldiers to protect him, then left for Bamiyan. Everyone is wondering
who did the shooting. They are also proud someone dared to do it.” Shireen had no
idea her brother was the daring someone.

“Wow, now that's some news. I wish I had seen it, too. Maybe it was one of the resistance.
I heard there are some people who are beginning to fight back against the Russians.
Soldiers probably will be coming to our little town. That will be scary and awful.”
Ali tried to sound convincing, especially about wishing he had seen it. He was very
glad that everyone thought it had been a bullet and not a stone, because he was well
known for his accuracy with a slingshot.

Hassan came home later that evening and also asked Ali where he had been that afternoon.
He really didn't think Ali had been involved in the shot at the school, mainly because
he knew Ali didn't have a gun. When Ali said he had been fishing, Hassan was relieved
and moved on to his other news. “One of my friends in Bamiyan called to tell me that
he
had seen two Russian jeeps with eight soldiers getting ready to head west toward
Sharidure. He thought they would leave later in the evening.” Hassan said he knew
someone in the resistance, the Mujahedeen. He thought these men needed to know about
the Russian soldiers coming to Sharidure. He looked at Ali, and father and son read
each other's thoughts. They didn't want even their family to know anything about
what they were thinking. It was dangerous for anyone to know anything about the Mujahedeen.
“Ali, I need your help in finishing a project at the shop.”

“Of course, father.”

***

This was his son, his son whom he loved, his son whom he had carried all those times
when he couldn't walk. Ali was also part of a long line of men who had resisted even
the great Ghengis Khan when he came to invade their land. Hassan also knew Ali was
under the suspicion of the stupid principal, the lackey of the Russians. He knew
Ali would be watched every day. He had been trying to think of how to protect his
son from these newest invaders, these nonbelievers from the north. He believed God
had been watching over Ali and had
been part of the reason why Ali could now walk
like any other man.

Hassan did not reveal any of these thoughts to Ali. When they got to the carpenter
shop, Ali knew he wasn't there to help his father finish a project, but he didn't
know just what his task would be. “My son, it is no longer safe for you to be with
us in our home. You must leave to begin your life somewhere else. I have some ideas,
but first you must let the Mujahedeen know about the Russian soldiers coming to Sharidure.
My friend's name is Askgar. I trust him completely. Be very careful. Do not talk
about this to anyone but him. He will help you know what to do next. He lives in
the last house on the path to the airfield. Tell him I sent you and about the Russian
soldiers. May God go with you.”

The two hugged, father and son. There were no tears. They looked in each other's
eyes. Hassan hoped it would not be the last time he hugged his son. Ali's heart was
pounding. He wasn't sure about this leap into being a man, but he trusted his father
and agreed something must be done to resist the Russians. He wanted to tell his father
it had been his stone that shattered the peace and teapot in the principal's office.
He also didn't want his father to know because he didn't want his father to be in
any way involved or blamed.

Hassan handed Ali a small package that contained some money and a friend's name and
address in Muhshed, Iran. Hassan hoped that Ali could eventually get to Muhshed and
be safe from the Russians. The money was about half of Hassan and Mariam's savings.
He and his wife talked about it last night, after the invasion of their home by the
principal. They cried about it, knowing it might be the last time they would see
their son.

***

When Ali knocked on the door of the last home before the airfield, a voice asked
who it was. “I am Ali, son of Hassan. He sent me with a message for Askgar.”

The door opened slowly, and Ali bowed as Askgar invited him in. “Welcome to my home.
May you not be tired.” Askgar and Ali exchanged the polite greetings that were part
of their culture. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. You are very kind.”

“The tea is fresh and hot. Would you like some?”

“Thank you very much. You are kind.” They sat down on
the leeoffs in the family room.
Ali noticed there was no one else in the room.

After sipping some of the green tea, Ali started to tell Askgar about the Russian
soldiers. Askgar interrupted him. “I heard about how the principal so rudely entered
and searched your home. I know your father is worried about you and your sister.
We talked about it today.”

Ali was a little surprised Askgar knew about the principal, but then he realized
that his father and Askgar were friends. “My father asked me to tell you that there
are Russian soldiers coming from Bamiyan, perhaps tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Askgar was looking directly into Ali's eyes.

“Yes, one of my father's friends called him from Bamiyan to tell him.”

“Then we must act immediately. Ali, I think you know I am a member of the resistance.
Your father and I talked about how you are in danger, suspected of teaching our children
something other than the Russian line. He asked me to help you get to Iran. I can
do that, but we must also keep the Russian soldiers from freely entering our town.
I
will return tomorrow to help you get to Jungal. Stay at my home tonight.”

“I would like to help.” Ali was surprised at himself for saying it. So was Askgar.

He turned to look at Ali. “It might be dangerous. They will not hesitate to kill
us.”

“I know, but someone has to show them they can't just force us to do what they want.
We have to protect our families and homes.”

Askgar was surprised but pleased to hear these words from such a young man. “All
right, we can use all the help we can get. Change into these dark clothes. We don't
want them to see white cloth. Dark clothes blend into the night shadows.”

The resistance turned out to be five other men, all of whom Ali knew from seeing
them in Sharidure. They greeted him warmly. They seemed to know him, too. They also
seemed to know about his helping children in the secret school in his home, and about
how the principal barged into his home. They talked about how someone shot at the
principal at school and wondered who had been so brave as to do that. Ali
wanted
to tell them, to brag about it, but again he decided to keep it to himself, so they
couldn't be forced to tell about it.

For about ten minutes, the resistance group talked about how best to ambush the Russian
soldiers. Plans were forwarded, then rejected for various reasons. Ali thought he
might know a way, but he hesitated because he was young and just joined the group.
He didn't think they would listen to him. Finally he cleared his throat and began
to suggest a plan. “What about the bridge? They will surely come by the road from
Bamiyan. It's the best place to ambush them.”

There was silence, until Askgar asked him for more about this idea. Ali continued.
“We could weaken the bridge at one end. No one would see us working under the bridge.
I don't think anyone is watching it anyway. We could weaken it so the weight of two
Russian UAZ Jeeps would send it and them crashing into the jui (a canal for irrigation
or water for a mill) below. The jui is pretty deep there. It carries all of the water
coming from the river into town.”

“It's a good plan. It's also one we can actually do, and it gives us a good chance
of staying safe and of getting their weapons. They will be carrying small arms, probably
grenades,
and likely machine guns, all with lots of ammunition. Let's get on with
the details.” Askgar was enthusiastic about the plan.

They trotted outside Sharidure to the bridge and slid under it to figure out how
to weaken it. One of them wondered how to not drop a truck or bus if it came over
before the jeeps. Another suggested that they could dig out all of the support except
for the final timber. That way they could wait to pull it out when the jeeps arrived.
Someone would sit up high to signal the others to remove the last support. “But we
can't risk calling or firing a rifle because someone might hear it. I wish we had
a radio.”

Ali volunteered a solution for the signal. “I could be the one to signal. I have
my slingshot and could fire a stone down to you. It would make no noise. I can hit
the bank just beside the bridge.”