Refugees (20 page)

The sky was inky black. Johar had worked too late for lessons, and his heart sank at the thought of the children who must have waited for him. He hurried to collect Bija. By the time he arrived she was asleep and Anqa was readying her own children for bed. He apologized, lifted Bija up, and walked over the pitted soil to their patchwork tent.

A paper fluttered on the tent flap. Johar pulled it from the string that held it and read by moonlight:
Someone was here to see you in morning but you were not at clinic. He return in two days. Vikhrim.

Who could it be? Johar's mind raced down the list of possibilities. Daq! No, he didn't dare hope. Was it a Talib soldier here to interrogate him, or even Uncle Tilo? But, maybe, just maybe, Daq was alive!

“
Y
es, of course, come over,” said Susie when Dawn called. “It'll be great to have someone to feed my cats. My neighbor usually does it, but he's impossibly busy.”

“Thank you so much!” Dawn said, and hurried over. She entered the walk-up and Susie welcomed her, showing Dawn to her tiny office, where a futon was set up.

“I haven't used my office in weeks,” said Susie. “A features reporter is always on the road with her laptop. Your timing is uncanny, because I'm flying to England tonight on assignment for Reuters.”

“What are you writing about?” asked Dawn, following her to the kitchen, where Susie offered her a chair and then scuttled around making tea.

“A report on London mosques.” The kettle whistled.
Susie served green tea with muffins, and took a seat. “I can't believe I'm flying off again.” She sighed. “I just got back from Los Angeles.”

“How can you get up the nerve to fly after what happened?” asked Dawn.

“I must've been a bird in my former life.” Susie gave a wry chuckle and ran her fingers through her brown pixie cut. “The honest answer is that the rent must be paid!”

“My foster mother is stationed overseas in Peshawar. She's an ICRC doctor.”

“Really?” Susie put her teacup down and leaned forward. “That takes courage.”

“Yes, she is brave,” echoed Dawn.

“How I would love to interview all the people at the camp.” Susie cupped the tea in her hands and inhaled its fragrant mist. “Does your mother ever take you with her?”

“Nope.” Hadn't Victor said that Louise had considered taking Dawn on a mission? Why hadn't she? “Louise is too busy.” She changed the subject. “How do you know Sander?”

“I was an early fan” was Susie's only comment. Was that fan as in girlfriend? It didn't matter. Dawn liked Susie, and it was cozy in her kitchen with the orange cat, Chester, and the gray one, Mara, licking their paws as they lounged under the windowsill geraniums. Sitting here in Susie's wicker chairs, by the blue gingham curtains, Dawn imagined herself in a country kitchen and forgot about everything that had happened in the city around them. The two women talked about journalism, music, and guys. As the sun shifted on the sills, Dawn realized that she was more relaxed with Susie than with Jude.
Maybe I'm learning how to relate,
she thought gratefully. Mercifully, Susie didn't quiz
Dawn in depth about her family situation. She only said, “You must be lonely in such a big old town.”

“Mm-hmm.” Dawn nodded, realizing that it was true. Dawn had an idea. She was almost too timid to ask, but her need gave her courage. “Um, do you think it'd be okay if I used your computer for e-mail?” She felt herself blush, but access to Johar and even to Louise was an opportunity too huge to overlook. The cybercaf' had been expensive and smoky. “I mean, it's fine if you don't want—”

Susie bounced from her chair. “Of course! You must have loads of worried people to contact.” She cut herself short, noticing Dawn's melancholy expression.

“I'll pay you,” Dawn offered.

“Not to worry.” Susie flashed her elfin smile. “I've got high-speed access and it's unlimited. That's one thing that wasn't destroyed when the towers came down.” In the middle of Susie showing Dawn her computer a horn honked below, and she peeked out the window. “My car service is here.” Susie stuffed a mess of folders in her laptop case, spritzed on some perfume, and grabbed a backpack. “Thanks again for taking care of my kitties. You should've heard my neighbor cheer when I said he was off cat duty.” Her grin showed off dimpled cheeks. Then she was gone.

Dawn went into Susie's office and sat for a while staring at the geometric pattern morphing on the screen saver. Then she shook off her shoes, closed the window against the fall chill, and unpacked her award for musicianship. Dawn placed it on the side table, then set up the satellite phone and dialed. She felt almost ready. It was time.

“Louise?”

“Oh, Dawn, hello!” It was oddly reassuring to hear Louise's voice.

“How are you?” Dawn asked. “Did you get the message that I called?”

“Yes. I sent back an e-mail. You know, every time I call the house, Victor says you're out. How is it that you're always out? You're not cutting school?”

Victor hadn't told Louise a thing! Dawn was relieved, but it proved how uncaring he really was. When Dawn had called to string him along, Victor had shouted his typical refrain: “You'd better get back before I call social services.” She hadn't believed a word. He was thrilled to be rid of her. “Cutting school? Don't be silly, Louise. I'm in rehearsals and spending time with Jude, that's all.”

“Well, dear, I miss you.”

Dawn almost believed it. If Louise would only lose the mannered voice and shout it! But Dawn never shouted either.
We're both so polite,
Dawn thought.
There's something messed up about that.

“It's hard to get news over here, although we heard about the World Trade Center,” Louise said. “What an unbelievable tragedy! I almost cut my trip short, but these Afghan refugees are in a terrible predicament—sick and starving. I haven't seen so many cases of malnutrition since the days of Biafra.”

“Sounds awful,” said Dawn.

“It really is. And think of all those poor families in Manhattan! Thank God the Red Cross there is so dedicated. They're putting in twenty-four-hour days. What do people in San Francisco think?” asked Louise.

“They're freaked! They fear the Bay Bridge might be next,” Dawn guessed.

“How are
you
feeling about the attack?” asked Louise finally.

“I feel awful for the families.” Dawn cared about them so much. And it wasn't in a voyeuristic way, like Jude said. She was helping out for once. It made her feel clean, good, happy. She almost exploded with the urge to tell Louise about her flute playing, about her conversations with victims' families. But Louise couldn't know. Not yet. “What about you, Louise? Are you safe? Is it scary there? Johar said that Al Qaeda has training camps in Afghanistan. And what about the Taliban? Has anyone threatened you?” Dawn was a little surprised by how worried she really felt.

“No, no, I'm fine,” Louise replied. “The Taliban supports Al Qaeda mainly because Al Qaeda funds them. Even though the Qaeda group is made up of mostly Arab foreigners, both groups feel that anyone not adhering to their version of Islam should be eliminated. The Afghan people are caught in their crossfire, so to speak.”

“That country seems like it's been through hell.”

“Yes, and since the Taliban ordered all aid workers to leave Afghanistan, there are precious few doctors. But they have less control over us across the border in Pakistan. God, the suffering here…”

“What about Johar?” Dawn asked. “Does he get enough to eat? Where does he stay?”

“He was in a tent with another family, but then he made his own tent. He's lucky. Some families live out in the open. The place is overcrowded and filthy. It's a breeding ground for disease.”

“That's scary. Do many people die?”

“A lot do, even though we do our best to treat them. Most times it's too little, too late. We just don't have nearly enough of the right supplies.”

Dawn thought of all the people she saw down at the site when she played. Huge crowds would form to listen to her
music. Some of them were there every day. “How do you handle all the sadness?” she asked.

“It's difficult, Dawn. It's really, really hard.” Louise sighed deeply, and Dawn sensed how exhausted she must be. “But I'm a doctor,” Louise went on. “It's my job to stay focused and detached.”

“Yeah, but how can you stay detached? I mean, what about making a connection? Isn't that part of the job too?” Dawn felt a swell of irritation. When she played for victims' families it worked best when she threw her emotions into it. She didn't always know what to say, but the people seemed to gain huge relief from the feelings she poured into her music. “It's ironic,” she blurted. “Johar gave me the opposite advice—not to run from things that frighten me, not to detach. What about Johar? Are you detached from him too? No wonder they can't stand Americans over there. People can't tell if you actually care or are just doing a job.”

“Dawn, that's unnecessary! Of course I care about the people here. I need to keep a professional distance, though. And Johar is my assistant.”

“But what do you think of him, really?” Dawn persisted.

“Well…” Louise paused. “His comprehension of English is quite something. He claims his aunt, who was a schoolteacher, taught him. The aunt's brother smuggled in English textbooks. Johar suspects that his uncle might even be living in the States.”

“I know,” Dawn put in. “His aunt's been captured. Did he tell you that?”

“No, he didn't.” Louise's tone cooled. “How often have you spoken with him?”

“A few times,” Dawn admitted. Why did Louise have to sound so clinical? “Sorry, but I need to go.”

“But I wanted to—”

“I'll e-mail you. Promise.”
Click.

Everything seemed like a duty to Louise. Nothing seemed to matter personally. Dawn felt the opposite. Everything mattered but she could hardly ever express it. Dawn suddenly remembered that Louise had mentioned sending an e-mail, and she logged on.

Louise did miss her. Dawn felt sick inside. Louise had been trying to relate, she really had.
Maybe it's me,
thought Dawn.

Dawn—

Yes. I wait for your call. Johar

“Dawn?”

“Johar, it's you!” His voice was warm. He was there for her. It made Dawn happy. “E-mail sucks when you need a real conversation,” she said.