The Puppetmasters (33 page)

Before long, Kendall would realize that half the cars on the Afghanistan highways were Toyota Corollas, many with over two hundred thousand miles on the engine. Used Corollas were shipped from Canada, Germany, the U.S., and Japan to Dubai where they were then delivered to Afghanistan. During the war with Russia in the 1980s, people didn’t want to be seen driving cars from the West. They first drove the Russian Volgas. Japanese cars were considered an acceptable alternative. To this day, the Toyota brand still dominates the automobile industry.

Jangi’s eldest son was envious and lovingly stroked the dusty hood. “It’s nice, Poya … and white too!” White was considered the choice of color because it showed the least dirt. One paid more money in Afghanistan to purchase a white car.

There was a squawk from inside the car. One of Jangi’s sons said, “What’s that?”

Rashid rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what that was. He pointed to Poya and sighed, “Go ahead, show them!”

Poya quickly opened the back door and out popped Ahmad’s peafowl. Jangi’s children were delighted and clapped their hands. Jangi was a bit taken aback but quickly recovered. He instructed his children to give the peafowl some cracked corn. They were obviously hungry and followed the boys around the farmyard, as bits of corn were offered. A pen of sorts was hastily constructed adjacent to the barn, where they would be safe from predators.

Jangi thanked Poya and remarked, “This is excellent Poya. They will keep the insects down and the snakes away.” Poya warned the children that they would need to pick up any bits of paper or the birds would surely eat it and possibly die.

Kendall gave Poya’s shoulders a squeeze. “You are so smart, Poya. How do you know these things?”

Poya nodded towards Rashid. “Rashid’s taught me everything I know. He’s my best friend.”

Kendall looked at Rashid with a new light. This man was truly a marvel. There was not much he couldn’t do. He was so resourceful. Tough, yet gentle. A man of mystery and depth. But she quickly sobered when she thought of their predicament. Her mind also suddenly flashed back to Jeremy. She shook her head in wonderment at how long it had been since she saw him. It seemed like months ago when he was part of her life. She hadn’t thought of him in days. He seemed pretty one-dimensional now that she had met Rashid. In her estimation, Jeremy didn’t even rise to the level of Poya or Jangi. He wasn’t worthy of any of the Afghan men and boys who stood before her.

Suddenly the front door opened and Jangi’s wife yelled for them to come and watch something on the television. They all hurried into the house and settled before the rickety television set. There was the face of General Omar raging before the cameras. Kendall could not tell what was being said, but she saw their pictures flashed in front of the camera several times. Finally, the speech ended, and the men lapsed into a long conversation in
Dari.
Every once in a while, the boys would look over at her. They seemed alternatively sad and frightened for her. She was impatient to know what was being said but remained silent.

It was time for bed, and Jangi led Rashid, Kendall, and Poya to the barn. First, they moved Poya’s car to the outside of the barn and covered it with a tarp. They made up Poya’s bed next to theirs, and Jangi said goodnight. He patted Rashid’s arm in a comforting way. He then turned, closed the big barn door behind him, and retired for the night.

The moon was full, and a surprising amount of light shone in through the side window above their heads. Poya had had a long day and quickly fell asleep. His gentle snores were soothing and childlike. He looked happy and content. Rashid was pleased he was here. He would find loving people with whom to make a life. Still, Rashid would worry about him, hoping he was thriving and growing into manhood with the right mentors. Rashid recalled the anger that had consumed him as a young man in the early days of living with the Shazeb family. He fervently hoped and prayed that Poya would never know such anger and rage. He made a silent promise that he would consider all of the options when it was time to leave Jangi the next day.

Rashid turned his attention to Kendall, who was quietly staring at him in the moonlit night, waiting to hear a recap of General Omar’s speech. Even
though they’d only been up half a day, Rashid was weary and would have liked to drop his head on the soft blankets and sleep, but he knew that Kendall was expecting an explanation of their circumstances and what would happen on the morrow. He gave a general account of Omar’s rantings. Omar was blaming Rashid and unnamed persons, possibly Americans, for the bombings and deaths of the Shazebs. He was calling it a
coup
that had been planned for some time.

Kendall’s face was shown as one of the so-called co-conspirators. It looked like an enlarged picture from her driver’s license. The image was fuzzy and not at all clear. It was not a flattering picture. The expression on her face was serious and downright fierce. She thought she even looked like a criminal type.

Kendall reached out and pulled Rashid’s arm. “What does all this mean?”

Rashid frowned but decided to be truthful. “It’s not good, Kendall. We were made to look really bad. Anyone who loved the president is going to be gunning for us. It will be imperative that we keep a low profile.” He stared at her lovely chestnut colored hair.

“What is it?”

He sighed. “It’s your hair! You stand out as a foreigner. Everything about you stands out. We can’t very well dress you like a man, because it just wouldn’t work.”

“Can we contact someone now to come and rescue us?”

He shook his head violently. “Absolutely not! Once we activated the SAT phone, our presence could be detected by radar. Omar’s troops would find us.”

Kendall’s eyes were wide and she felt helpless. “What are we going to do?”

He saw the concern in her eyes and relaxed, saying soothingly, “Don’t worry, Kendall. We’ll be fine. We just need to be careful, stay off the main roads, hunker down, and keep to ourselves for a few days.”

“Why can’t we just stay here? It seems safe.”

“Because Jangi has already put his family and farm at risk. He could lose everything and end up in jail, all just for helping us. I will not stay any longer than is necessary.” He looked at Kendall and stated emphatically, “We leave tomorrow, Kendall. Get some sleep.”

She lay down but found sleep elusive. Her thoughts alternated from wondering how Glenn Carson was to where her mother’s body was to finally how she could ever go back to a nine-to-five job after all that she had seen and been through. She finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Sometime after midnight, Kendall began moaning and uttering the name, “Rashid, Rashid,” over and over. She awoke to find Rashid gently shaking her and cradling her in his arms. He stroked and lightly kissed her hair, saying, “Shh, you’re having a bad dream, Kendall.”

She was trembling and looked distraught. Their dire situation and unknown
future had gotten the best of her. “I’m so afraid, Rashid.” He quickly grabbed his makeshift bed and pulled it over next to hers. He lay down beside her and she rested her head on his shoulders. They both fell into a sound, peaceful sleep, their bodies pressed warmly against each other.

Rashid and Kendall woke up to the sound of Poya laughing and pointing out the window. Jangi’s boys were feeding the peafowl, and there was much bedlam as they chased the birds around.

After the morning meal, they discussed their plans with Jangi. Poya was outside with the other children, helping with the daily chores. The adults watched the Afghanistan National Television station for the morning news. They were stunned to find out that General Omar was appealing to the Afghan citizens for information on the whereabouts of Rashid Sharif and Kendall Radcliffe. A reward of 10,000 Afghani, or just under $200, was offered to enlist the public’s help. Alternatively, anyone found to be harboring the fugitives would be publicly beheaded. That warning extended to their immediate family as well. Jangi gasped at that news.

While Omar was not certain that Kendall was the second person in the vehicle seen speeding away from the bombed AIDC building, he was fairly certain it had to be her. Omar had seen them together every day for the past few weeks, and they seemed thick as thieves, in his eyes. His jealousy at Rashid’s closeness with the Shazeb family and how he had tricked him the night the Shazebs were all killed, drove him crazy with rage. His single-minded purpose to track down and punish Rashid in the most heinous way was evident to Rashid. The only bright side was that nothing was said of Poya’s going missing.

The message to the Afghanistan public was that military troops were being sent to all the major cities, and a house-to-house search was to be conducted. Roadblocks were to be set up, with all vehicles inspected. When Rashid and Jangi saw that Bamiyan was one of the first cities to receive troops, they looked at each other knowingly.

From the look of fear and concern in Jangi’s eyes, Rashid knew they must leave at once, within the hour. He also knew that Poya must go with them for the time being. Once the troops had left Bamiyan, it would be safe for Poya to return to Jangi’s farm.

Rashid explained the situation to Kendall, and everyone went into action. Quick showers were taken, and Rashid’s jeep was filled with food, drink, and more ammunition. Jangi’s wife shoved several clean headscarves and a
chadrei,
or long headscarf providing full coverage, at Kendall. They were stowed away. The license plate from the Toyota Corolla was removed, and several large machines, bales of hay, and miscellaneous equipment were casually placed around it. It looked like a broken-down vehicle that had been sitting there for some time. No attempt was made to hide it.

Jangi and Rashid pored over the map of the Bamiyan Province. They discussed the options, and there was much pointing northwest into the mountains overlooking the valley. As the jeep sped away from the house and made a beeline for the higher hills, a convoy of military troops was headed toward Jangi’s house. The procession of military vehicles was five minutes away. His house was on the edge of town. It made sense that his farm would be one of the first to be searched.

The jeep headed north into the hills where thousands of caves stood watch over the Bamiyan Valley. They drove for about thirty minutes on a winding dusty backroad that was not well traveled. They found a secluded spot behind a row of large boulders to park the car. Kendall was instructed to remain in the jeep. Rashid and Poya went in search of an abandoned available cave for their short stay. Before they left, Rashid had pointed out the many large boulders and shrubs nearby. He informed her that if she needed a toilet, she would have to find something amongst the natural landscape. She was aghast.

After walking for half an hour and seeing many families squeezed into the confines of a red stone cavern, they chose one on the third level of caves up a dirt pathway. The cave had a particularly narrow opening that looked hardly habitable, which was probably why it had been abandoned. They rushed back to the jeep, and the three of them carried as many of their possessions as they could. Kendall wore a large headscarf pulled low that covered all of her hair and half of her face. She walked with her head down and basically blended in with the other women. The weary trio looked like they carried all of their worldly possessions on their backs.

Kendall was shocked at the tight, dark space that was to be their living quarters for the next day or two. Rashid explained that he and Poya would need to speak
Dari
when in the cave, so as not to rouse the curiosity of their neighbors. When she wanted to speak English, she would need to stand close to him or Poya and whisper. She nodded.

She had never been so miserable or scared in her life. She sank down onto the floor of the cave. She longed to listen to her iPod or turn on the radio just to relieve the terrible tension. It was almost unbearable. But she knew that world full of expensive toys and worldly must-haves, which she had so taken for granted a month before, was well beyond her reach here. She looked out towards the small vertical band of light barely shining into their eight feet of living space. It was really just a hole cut into the rock by rain and wind. Kendall leaned her head against the wall of the stone chamber. A single tear slid down her face.

Rashid stood sentry at the narrow opening of their temporary “home.” He allowed Poya to roam around nearby and talk to the other cave-dwelling families, but cautioned him not to stray too far away. Poya was not to discuss where he was from or how they traveled. He was told to shrug and change the subject.
They needed to hear the news, and decided it was the most expedient and practical to have Poya wander around and interact with the others. He would not raise suspicion like an obviously educated Rashid.

People were curious, though, and at one point a man poked his head into the cave and asked if they would like to join his family for tea. As Kendall averted her head, Rashid declined, pointing to her and saying that she was not feeling well. The man quickly backed out of their cave, not wanting to catch any sickness from the new people. Rashid was immediately sorry that he had used that excuse. Around these very poor, uneducated people, they would not take kindly to a stranger introducing an illness to their population. He was really hoping there would be no gossip about them; that they would just blend in.

Poya quickly learned that the main living in the caves was eked out by the children. The caverns were only a mile from the Bamiyan morning market. During the day, the children would run around the countryside, picking up grass, hay, and other fruits, nuts, and potatoes, and either bring them back for their families or sell them at the market.

The ceilings of the caves were rounded and about seven feet high. In the seventh century, the Buddhist monks had occupied the caves, using them to meditate. The caves could accommodate a small fire near the entrance. The children gathered dung from the countryside to stoke the fires. Many of the caves had makeshift or crude doors made out of discarded wood or a rug that had been hung up.