A Long Way from Home

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Authors: Alice Walsh
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go in there and drop a bomb. Blow them all to pieces.”
    There was a murmur of agreement from the other woman. “There could be terrorists on the planes for all we know.”
    Is that why we were kept on the runway so long after landing? Rabia wondered. She waited until the two women left, then found her way back to the waiting room, a feeling of dread growing larger with every step she took. She only knew one thing for certain: Whatever was happening was not good.
    More people arrived, and more names were called from the list. Finally, a woman and young boy about Rabia’s age came into the room. The woman was wearing denim pants and a checked shirt. Her dark hair was cropped so short that Rabia mistook her for a man. She had noticed that a lot of women dressed like men in this country.
    â€œOh, my dear, so sorry to keep everybody waiting,” the woman said. “Kevin, my husband, was gone with the van. It’s been so busy… what with all the…”
    â€œThis is Millie Keating,” Emma cut in. “And her son, Jason. Millie’s going to take you to her home.” She turned her attention to Rabia’s family. “And this,” she said, “is the Atmar family — Rabia, Karim, and their mother, Ayeesha. They’re from Afghanistan.”
    Millie Keating held out her hand. “So nice to meet you all.”
    Jason gave them a wide smile.
    â€œRabia,” Millie said. “Now that’s a name you don’t hear too often. I must tell Tanya, my niece. She’s having a baby,” she explained, “and they’ve gone through dozens of baby books searching for unusual names. Can’t make up their minds. They knows ’tis a girl. Had an ultrasound done weeks ago.”
    â€œMom,” Jason said. “I doubt they care.” He smiled at Rabia.
    â€œHelp the girl with her luggage,” Millie told him.
    â€œIs okay,” Rabia said, clutching the drawstring pouch. Everything she owned was in the bag, and she was not going to let it out of her sight.
    They followed Millie and Jason to the parking lot where a minivan was parked.
    â€œSome nice weather,” Millie said. “Can’t remember a fall that’s been this nice.”
    Rabia sniffed the clean fresh air. It smelled wonderful. And there was something else. “It is so quiet.”
    â€œQuiet?” Millie gave her a puzzled look.
    Rabia could hear the hum of cars on the highway, a dog barking in the distance. In Kabul, there was always the sound of gunfire. Bombs and rockets rained down regularly. During the civil war, they fell night and day, destroying buildings and killing people. Many times Rabia and her family had scurried for shelter in the middle of the night.
    Jason opened the front passenger door and gestured for Ayeesha to get in. He pulled open the side door, and Rabia and Karim climbed into the back.
    Millie got behind the wheel, and started the engine. “Your family will be staying in our basement apartment,” she told Ayeesha, as she backed the van out of the parking lot. “Our tenant won’t be moving in until the end of the month.”
    Mama looked confused, so Rabia translated in Dari. “Mama does not understand English very well,” she explained.
    â€œBut you certainly speak very well, my dear,” Millie said.
    â€œMy father. He teach me,” Rabia said proudly.
    â€œAnd what about your brother?” She turned her head slightly. “Karim, is it?”
    â€œKarim…he does not talk.”
    â€œOh.” Millie said. “Oh, my!” Thankfully, she didn’t ask questions, and Rabia didn’t go into any detail. Instead, she stared out the window at the passing scenery.
    Millie drove to a neighborhood with tidy houses and carefully trimmed lawns. A few minutes later, she pulled the van into a circular driveway in front of a large brick house with a double garage. Jason got out and opened the passenger

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