Chapter 24
24. It’s the whistling,” Laila said to Tariq, “the damn whistling, I hate more than anything.” ITariq nodded knowingly. It wasn’t so much the whistling itself, Laila thought later, but the seconds between the start of it and impact. The brief and interminable time of feeling suspended. The not knowing. The waiting. Like a defendant […]
Chapter 23
23. APRIL 1992 Three years passed. In that time, Tariq’s father had a series of strokes. They left him with a clumsy left hand and a slight slur to his speech. When he was agitated, which happened frequently, the slurring got worse. Tariq outgrew his leg again and was issued a new leg by the […]
Chapter 22
22. JANUARY 1989 One cold, overcast day in January 1989, three months before Laila turned eleven, she, her parents, and Hasina went to watch one of the last Soviet convoys exit the city. Spectators had gathered on both sides of the thoroughfare outside the Military Club near Wazir Akbar Khan. They stood in muddy snow […]
Chapter 21
21. The driver pulled his taxi over to let pass another long convoy of Soviet jeeps and armored vehicles. Tariq leaned across the front seat, over the driver, and yelled, “Pajalusta! Pajalusta!” A jeep honked and Tariq whistled back, beaming and waving cheerfully. “Lovely guns!” he yelled. “Fabulous jeeps! Fabulous army! Too bad you’re losing […]
Chapter 20
20. The ailments that would hound Mammy for the rest of her days began. Chest pains and headaches, joint aches and night sweats, paralyzing pains in her ears, lumps no one else could feel. Babi took her to a doctor, who took blood and urine, shot X-rays of Mammy’s body, but found no physical illness. […]
Chapter 19
19. I need to speak to your parents, dokhtar jan,” he said when Laila opened the door. He was a stocky man, with a sharp, weather-roughened face. He wore a potato-colored coat, and a brown wool pakol on his head. “Can I tell them who’s here?” Then Babi’s hand was on Laila’s shoulder, and he […]
Chapter 18
18. A week passed, but there was still no sign of Tariq. Then another week came and went. ATo fill the time, Laila fixed the screen door that Babi still hadn’t got around to. She took down Babi’s books, dusted and alphabetized them. She went to Chicken Street with Hasina, Giti, and Giti’s mother, Nila, […]
Chapter 17
17. The gun was red, the trigger guard bright green. Behind the gun loomed Khadim’s grinning face. Khadim was eleven, like Tariq. He was thick, tall, and had a severe underbite. His father was a butcher in Deh- Mazang, and, from time to time, Khadim was known to fling bits of calf intestine at passersby. […]
Chapter 16
16. KABUL, SPRING 1987 Nine-year-old Laila rose from bed, as she did most mornings, hungry for the sight of her friend Tariq. This morning, however, she knew there would be no Tariq sighting. “How long will you be gone?” she’d asked when Tariq had told her that his parents were taking him south, to the […]
Part Two
PART TWO