Shooting Kabul by N. H. Senzai Read Free Book Online Page A

fried eggplant with yogurt, and chicken stew. Abay added two mantu to his plate. Fadi stared down at the two plump dumplings smothered in a meat sauce, and his hunger vanished. Mantu was Mariam’s favorite dish.
    After lunch Fadi wandered toward the back of the small house, wanting to get away from the crush. Zalmay had offered to show him his collection of video games, but he wasn’t interested. He ducked inside the empty kitchen.The pantry door stood invitingly open, so he slipped inside. He slid to the ground between a huge bag of rice and shelves packed with canned goods and spices. He’d been sitting for a few solitary minutes when he heard footsteps enter through the doorway.
    â€œSo what happened , Zafoona?” prodded a concerned voice.
    Fadi spotted Khala Nilufer through the gap between the door and the frame. He shrank into the shadow as chairs were pulled back from the small dinette set near the window.
    â€œIt’s all a blur,” said Zafoona, her voice scratchy. “We were at the appointed place when the truck arrived. It was late, well past midnight, and we hurried to get on board. Noor practically carried me because I was so sick. Habib led the way, carrying the suitcases, while Fadi and Mariam trailed behind. Then within seconds, complete chaos descended over us.… Dozens of people appeared from out of nowhere. There was a mad dash for the truck.”
    â€œOh, my goodness,” murmured Khala Nilufer.
    â€œIt’s my fault she’s lost, you know,” whispered Zafoona.
    Fadi stiffened. Her fault? He peered through the crack at his mother’s hunched shoulders.
    â€œDon’t blame yourself, Zafoona jaan !” cried Khala Nilufer.
    â€œShe’s my baby. I’m her mother. It’s all my fault,” cried Zafoona, and, she burst into ragged sobs.
    Fadi could see her shoulders shaking as Khala Nilufer grabbed tissues. He closed his eyes, blocking out her tears, but he couldn’t extinguish the anguished sounds.
    â€œZafoona,” comforted Khala Nilufer, “you’re making yourself sick. You can’t think like this.”
    â€œNo, you don’t understand,” said Zafoona. “If I wasn’t so sick, I could have looked after her. But instead everyone was looking after me . Noor and Habib were so worried about getting me on board the truck that they lost track of Fadi and Mariam. It’s my fault.”
    Fadi sank his fingernails into the bag of rice. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t the one responsible for losing Mariam.
    â€œNo, no, you can’t think this way, Zafoona jaan ,” soothed Nilufer. “You were sick. You can’t help that.”
    â€œI don’t know …” Zafoona paused a few seconds. “I’ve always tried to be a good mother. But I’ve had to be the disciplinarian. Habib has always been the soft one, the one who the kids turn to when they skin their knees or want to share a secret. I hate to think that Mariam doesn’t think I love or care for her.”
    â€œOf course Mariam knows you love her,” said Khala Nilufer forcefully. “You can tell her yourself when she comes home. There are so many people looking for her, she’ll be found soon.”
    â€œ Insha’ Allah,” said Zafoona softly.
    â€œNow come and sit in the backyard,” said Khala Nilufer. “The fresh air will do you good. I’ll make a fresh pot of green tea.”
    As the women headed to the backyard with their tea, Fadi sat alone, in the dark. It’s where I deserve to be.

F ADI TEETERED ON THE EDGE OF THE BED, inspecting the cramped room he and his family shared at the back of Uncle Amin’s house. He glanced with unease at the calendar with the dancing cats. It was the last day of August 2001, and they’d been living there for more than six weeks. He twisted the silky bedspread in his fist as a sense of weary hopelessness settled over him.
    Over the