Allure of Deceit (30 page)

But Thara worried about the villagers and asked why the attorney could not go on his own. Leila laughed and explained how her attorneys were more powerful than anyone in Laashekoh. But he would not find Zahira's compound on his own. Thara looked unconvinced.

“And once you are outside the prison, you must explain that you are my sister, not a brother,” Leila ordered. “The attorney gets very upset when I lie to him.”

Thara repeated her fears. She did not want to go near Laashekoh. “They are searching for me.”

Leila chided her sister about not understanding the ways of city people. The attorney had a car, and the trip would pass very quickly. “You can leave here and return in one day. Tell him how unbearable the village is, and he can protect you from Parsaa and the other fools. Bring the baby girl back here. You can be an auntie and care for her and love her and visit me.”

The guard clanged on the door. The visit was over. Leila hugged her sister and whispered. “I have great wealth. Tell the attorney how much Parsaa abused our family. Help me with this matter, and once I am out of jail, I will take care of you.”

“
Khoda negahdar
,” Thara said softly.

The parting words sounded so final, more fearful than pleased, though her little sister would soon learn the ways of the city. Leila was relieved to have attorneys. She no longer needed her family.

The attorney escorted Thara through the prison, and once again, she followed his advice, waiting to ask questions until they stepped outside. “Too many ears,” he said.

After stepping beyond the prison gate, he grasped Thara's shoulder before she could run off to rejoin Saddiq and Fatima. His first question was on the whereabouts of the baby girl, and Thara admitted the child was living with a woman near Laashekoh. Crouching down, he wanted to know the woman's name, her relationship, the condition of her house. He asked how much villagers knew about the baby and if they would fight for the child.

Thara explained that the villagers had no idea the baby was living so close by, and she was not sure whether they would care. She repeated Leila's rough directions. Locating the child would not be easy for the attorney.

“Do you think your sister is telling the truth?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. Thara had told the man enough. It was a compromise. She owed Saddiq so much, and he could reach the baby first. Saddiq no longer needed her and would leave Kandahar, and Thara could stay with Fatima, who gave her choices and would not force her to travel with the attorney to retrieve the child. Thara had her own ideas. She did not want to wander with Saddiq. She would not rely on Leila, raising the infant and waiting for her sister to leave prison. Fatima promised her shelter, school, and food. The woman asked about Thara's preferences and more than once advised that she did not have to answer questions, return to Laashekoh, or enter the prison.

Thara apologized to the attorney. “My sister is truthful, but I am not. I am a girl and must stay with Fatima.”

The attorney didn't seem surprised and thanked her for extracting the baby's location from Leila. He would head to the compound the next day, and he stressed that there was no need for Thara to accompany him. He would find the place.

Thara dipped her head. The attorney and Leila did not need to know Saddiq's plans. Leila had disappointed Thara. Her sister cared little about how Thara had managed to travel to Kandahar on her own. Leila asked no questions about the other sisters living in Laashekoh. She simply expected Thara to follow her orders and be available to watch the child.

The attorney and Thara rejoined Fatima and Saddiq sitting in the shade of the large car. Saddiq sipped on a bottle of juice, and Fatima handed one to Thara. The liquid was sweet, sour, yellow, tingly. Her tongue had never swallowed a beverage so delicious.

As the two adults conversed, a hopeful Saddiq pulled Thara aside. Even once the attorney said his farewells, Fatima waited with patience.

“Did you see the baby?” Saddiq whispered.

She felt sorry for him. Placing her hand on his arm, she explained that the baby was no longer in the prison. He was devastated.

“But it may be better this way.” Thara hurried to explain that the baby was not far from Laashekoh, at the compound of a reclusive woman known as Zahira. “You won't have to travel so far with the baby.”

Skeptical, Saddiq asked why a woman would choose to live alone, away from Laashekoh. Perhaps Leila was lying. But Thara had no doubt that the woman cared for the child, and she pointed out that Leila's attorney also wanted the child. Thara passed along detailed directions to Saddiq for finding the canyon trail with the exact location of the entrance near the river flowing past Laashekoh. “The others don't know that you traveled here for the baby,” Thara assured him. “But you must hurry. Leila is desperate. The attorney plans to leave tomorrow, and he will travel by car.”

As she expected, Saddiq was nervous and ready to leave Kandahar. Thara smiled and told him not to fear. “He will struggle to find the entrance and will soon discover how difficult the trails are around there.” Thara looked back at the prison and warned that retrieving the baby would not be easy. “Zahira may argue about handing the child over. Maybe you should get your father to help.”

“Maybe,” Saddiq said. “I'll try on my own first.”

Thara told him the baby was a girl, but Saddiq did not care. “She is Ali's daughter and your niece. The baby will be loved,” he said.

Feeling sorry for her old friend, Thara wondered when she might see him again. He had been so happy about arriving in Kandahar, so sure about his mission. After meeting Fatima, Thara was sure about her future, too.

“Will you miss Laashekoh?” He was resigned.

“I can't return.” Thara stared at the highway and the moving cars. “Though I have learned how quickly I can change my mind. Back in Laashekoh, I missed Leila so much and felt sorry for her. And now that I'm here, I wish that I could thank Karimah for all she did. She was fair.” She shook her head. “But you cannot talk to her about me, and I cannot go back.”

He admitted to understanding why Thara did not want to return. Thara tried to cheer him. “No one in Laashekoh will ever know that you brought me here, and it would have been far too difficult carrying a baby back to Laashekoh on your own. Allah is still with you, Saddiq.” Taking his hands, Thara squeezed and promised she would never forget how much he had helped her. “You will always be my brother. I only want to be like you someday, ready to help another person.”

Once more, Fatima invited him to stay the night at the center and leave the next morning. The woman had no idea about his mission to find the baby. Instead, he expressed gratitude for her kindness and immediately set off down the highway, back toward Laashekoh.

CHAPTER 23

A sudden shift in the weather, with warmer temperatures, allowed the men of Laashekoh to sit in a circle around the crackling flames. The ground was wet, the hour was late, and ideas and plans leaped like sparks in the fire. Muscles ached after days of hard work, soothed by the mental relief that the harvest was complete, the crops tallied and divided among households, with plenty left over for sale at the market. The women were pleased. There would be no worries over paying bills and taxes or feeding families throughout the winter.

So much work completed despite the hours spent hunting for the missing girl. Once again, most of the villagers had searched throughout the day, and still there was no clue. The consensus—the girl was no longer near Laashekoh.

Parsaa was unusually quiet, and the others didn't notice. As they talked, he kept his worries inside. He had spent the past days walking in ever-widening circles around Laashekoh, following familiar trails, hoping to find Saddiq. But there was no sign of either child. Inside, he knew the boy was capable and sensible. Like his wife, Parsaa had his suspicions, but he refused to speak of them out loud.

He would have preferred searching into the night, but that would have prompted questions. So he sat with the others and pretended to listen to banter. The man would not admit that he had no idea on the whereabouts of his oldest son or how the boy had probably helped Thara leave the village.

So far, no one connected the two children, and Parsaa was grateful. The crime was unthinkable.

Early that first day of Saddiq's absence, Parsaa had detected a few depressions in the snow, evenly spaced and rounded, but lacking the gait of a large man. The tracks circled throughout the village and also led to a nearby creek. Parsaa didn't ask Ahmed for an opinion.

Snow kept falling, and searchers crossed back and forth, obliterating the soft impressions, and Parsaa kept his relief to himself.

The next day, a few villagers asked about Saddiq, and Parsaa was brief. The boy was on an errand for his father, and that ended the questions. The villagers trusted Parsaa. Such trust was why Parsaa so appreciated the village and why he felt so guilty. He wondered why Saddiq could not confide in his father.

The other men spoke about the new fields ready for spring planting. The night would be so peaceful if only Parsaa knew where his son slept. He closed his eyes with weariness and sensed an interruption only when the conversation went silent.

Opening his eyes, Parsaa glanced at the other men to follow the direction of their eyes. A shadowy figure stood by the wall. Parsaa's eyes could no longer pierce the darkness, but the figure did not seem huge. The younger men did not reach for their weapons. Parsaa waited for others to speak up.

“Salaam alaikum,” Ahmed called out. “Join us, friend.”

The figure slowly approached and eventually took the form of old Mohan. Mohan refused to sit, standing beyond the firelight. His eyes focused on Parsaa.

Suddenly, Parsaa remembered his promise to Zahira to return and check on Najwa. He was a day late, maybe two. But Mohan was annoyed, and Zahira was probably angry, too.

The timing could not be worse. Parsaa had led others to believe that Saddiq left the village for an errand at the compound, and he hoped other villagers did not start asking Mohan questions. Parsaa would not apologize for failing to check on Najwa, not when the village had a missing child. He approached Mohan, standing between him and the others to block their view, and held out both hands to greet him.

Mohan did not reciprocate with his usual warmth, and the two men walked away from the fire toward the wall. Mohan was curt, talking about how a broken promise could not be repaired.

“Has the girl behaved?” Parsaa questioned.

“She is a troublemaker,” Mohan said. Irritated, Parsaa asked why the man had not brought Najwa back to the village. Mohan held his head high. “It is too late. Zahira's husband has taken a liking to her. You should not have brought her to the compound at all.”

Parsaa pressed his fingers against his brow, and the pain cleared his head. He explained that a young girl had gone missing from the village, but the words had the sound of an empty excuse.

“Yet you have time to sit around a fire for idle conversation?” Mohan's only priority was protecting the compound and Zahira. “Zahira is worried for her life, and you no longer come around to check on her anymore? Her fool of a husband does not need sight to sense the disinterest.”

More problems and guilt. “Does Zahira want me to remove Najwa?”

“She wants more than that,” Mohan said.

Parsaa offered to leave for the compound immediately. “Do we need other men?” Parsaa asked.

“You could bring one of your sons. We could begin his training.”

“Tonight may not be the time for training.” Parsaa kept his voice low. Mohan shrugged, waved for the other man to hurry, and then climbed back over the wall to wait. Parsaa was relieved that Mohan was in no mood to socialize with the men by the fire.

The village men looked at him expectantly, but Parsaa offered the briefest explanation: “A problem at the compound.”

At home, Sofi followed him as he retrieved a rifle. “What's wrong? Is this about Saddiq?”

Dishonesty is like a sedative. He wanted to say yes, but shook his head. Parsaa went to the large wooden chest where the family stored weapons and ammunition. He selected a weapon and then stared at his son's rifles. If the boy had planned to travel far, he would have taken a weapon. “This is not about Saddiq.”

Sofi had heard his comments to the other men. “But perhaps Saddiq is really there . . . ?”

Parsaa glanced around the room and wondered how far the boy had gone. His toughest shoes, a knife, and his
pakol
were missing. His pack waited in the corner, though Parsaa was certain the boy was not in the vicinity of Laashekoh. No one had thought about searching for Thara near the compound, and Parsaa wondered if Saddiq had tried searching there.

“Anything is possible.” Parsaa embraced his wife and told her he would return by early morning. Outside he joined Mohan, who did not speak at all, and the two began the long hike.