Page 66
Story: What Remains
Although he wondered now, too, if the friends Mr. White was calling had heard. Were they close? On their way to rescue him?
Because I could talk to them. Amu wouldn’t understand a word, but they would understand me. I would tell them about Baba and Mr. White and what I know.
There was something else he could tell the Americans. If he told them what he was…if heprovedit…they would take him away from all this. Surely, his having saved Mr. White and that woman was worth something.
“He was my father’s friend,” he said to Amu. “I only saw him the one time.” Another lie, but what was one more now?
An older clansman named Kur stirred. “And that’s all?”
“Yes.” His cheeks heated, his body trying to betray him yet again, but he swallowed, gave himself a moment to steady. “Whydon’t you ask the woman who was with him? She would know why they’re here.”
A short silence, filled only by the continual slap of wind against the yurt and, from somewhere further away, a shrill exclamation and short babble. Children, maybe. A few of the men turned quizzical looks in the direction of the sounds and then to one another, but otherwise no one moved.
“Conveniently,” Kur said, seeming neither to hear the noise or, if he did, to care. “Or perhaps not so very conveniently, you seem to be the only person who can speak to her.”
He wanted to ask what relevance that had to anything going on but held his tongue.
“You don’t think that’s unusual?”
Hadn’t they just gone over this? “People speak many languages in Kabul. That’s not a crime.”
“But he has been shot and so perhaps they werecommittinga crime.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Why doyouthink your Mr. White and this woman are here?”
“I have no idea.”
Kur opened his mouth to continue, but Amu cut in. “This is getting us nowhere. Let me deal with him. He’s mine, after all.”
Don’t do it.But he couldn’t help the sudden surge of rage. He had lost so much,beenthrough so much. When would he get a say? When would he be in charge of his own life?
“What are you accusing me of?” he asked Amu. “Do you thinkI’mthe reason he’s here? Think again.Ifoundthem. The gunshots were from the mountains, not here.”
“And you don’t think that’s important?” Amu ground out. “You don’t think thathemight have imaginedyouwerethere?”
“What?” He was confused. “There?Whereis there?”
Kur spoke. “The mine, of course.”
What?Poya opened his mouth, closed it, then said, “What mine?”
“The one east and north,” Kur said, “in the mountains. Where you heard those shots. That is where the mine is. So, didyoucome from there?”
“Me? In a mine?” He shook his head. “No.”
“Didn’t you escape? Didn’t you run and make your way to Sarhad?”
Kur was spouting gibberish. “No,” he said, “I don’t know anything about a mine. I’ve never been in those mountains.”
“Then how do you explain this man?”
“I can’t. It’s a coincidence.”
Kur’s mouth set in a grim line. “Quite a coincidence.”
“Even so,that’swhat it is. I don’t know about any mine. Why are you accusing me?”
Because I could talk to them. Amu wouldn’t understand a word, but they would understand me. I would tell them about Baba and Mr. White and what I know.
There was something else he could tell the Americans. If he told them what he was…if heprovedit…they would take him away from all this. Surely, his having saved Mr. White and that woman was worth something.
“He was my father’s friend,” he said to Amu. “I only saw him the one time.” Another lie, but what was one more now?
An older clansman named Kur stirred. “And that’s all?”
“Yes.” His cheeks heated, his body trying to betray him yet again, but he swallowed, gave himself a moment to steady. “Whydon’t you ask the woman who was with him? She would know why they’re here.”
A short silence, filled only by the continual slap of wind against the yurt and, from somewhere further away, a shrill exclamation and short babble. Children, maybe. A few of the men turned quizzical looks in the direction of the sounds and then to one another, but otherwise no one moved.
“Conveniently,” Kur said, seeming neither to hear the noise or, if he did, to care. “Or perhaps not so very conveniently, you seem to be the only person who can speak to her.”
He wanted to ask what relevance that had to anything going on but held his tongue.
“You don’t think that’s unusual?”
Hadn’t they just gone over this? “People speak many languages in Kabul. That’s not a crime.”
“But he has been shot and so perhaps they werecommittinga crime.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Why doyouthink your Mr. White and this woman are here?”
“I have no idea.”
Kur opened his mouth to continue, but Amu cut in. “This is getting us nowhere. Let me deal with him. He’s mine, after all.”
Don’t do it.But he couldn’t help the sudden surge of rage. He had lost so much,beenthrough so much. When would he get a say? When would he be in charge of his own life?
“What are you accusing me of?” he asked Amu. “Do you thinkI’mthe reason he’s here? Think again.Ifoundthem. The gunshots were from the mountains, not here.”
“And you don’t think that’s important?” Amu ground out. “You don’t think thathemight have imaginedyouwerethere?”
“What?” He was confused. “There?Whereis there?”
Kur spoke. “The mine, of course.”
What?Poya opened his mouth, closed it, then said, “What mine?”
“The one east and north,” Kur said, “in the mountains. Where you heard those shots. That is where the mine is. So, didyoucome from there?”
“Me? In a mine?” He shook his head. “No.”
“Didn’t you escape? Didn’t you run and make your way to Sarhad?”
Kur was spouting gibberish. “No,” he said, “I don’t know anything about a mine. I’ve never been in those mountains.”
“Then how do you explain this man?”
“I can’t. It’s a coincidence.”
Kur’s mouth set in a grim line. “Quite a coincidence.”
“Even so,that’swhat it is. I don’t know about any mine. Why are you accusing me?”
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