here in America is almost
nothing in comparison to the horros waiting for me in Afghanistan.”
Malia shrunk in understanding and humiliation. Why did I have to bring this up? she thought. I barely know
this girl. I know nothing of her life. And I have the audacity to
offend her like this. “There is a war there,
Malia. But, you already knew that.”
Visions of her brother in a
soldier’s uniform carrying a weapon, sprinting through the
trenches, shooting a man. She could not bare to consider what he
and Danny were confronting as she sat here in the cafeteria,
enjoying a simple fast-food meal with Safiah. If only I could be a fly on the wall. The pain of not knowing suffocated her
mind.
“I can only appreciate the gift of
safety that America has provided me and my family,” Safiah
explained. Malia’s eyes were glassy. Safiah knew her focus was
currently directed elsewhere. A place less welcoming. “Malia,” she
whispered. Her senses returned to reality. “You have to have faith
in a better tomorrow.”
Malia sighed. “For weeks, I
would lie awake at night. Listening to my own breathing,” she
closed her eyes. “I would wonder if they were still breathing on
the other end of all this.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “I
never really believed.” She looked at Safiah. Her eyes projected
pain. The pain of her relatives still residing in Afghanistan. And
the pain of her sister. Only an infant. One of the injustices of
the world. Along with so many others. Like Beth’s mother. They were all
unecessary , Malia thought. It just takes courage to fight them, to
prevent it from happening to someone else .
She thought of Danny and her brother. “But part of me does
now.”
Her cell phone vibrated gently in
her pocket. Her home phone number. Either her mother or father. “I
should probably take this,” she stood and gathered her belongings.
“Thanks for the chat,” Malia smiled and strolled out of the Eagle
Café, leaving Safiah to munch on her Romaine lettuce in
silence.
“Mom? Is that you?” Malia sat on a
vacant park bench. She was alone in the campus garden, surrounded
by weeds and wilting flowers. It was still daylight, though the sun
was beginning to set slowly into the depths of the earth.
“Mom, I can’t hear what you’re
saying. Why are you muffling your words?” She touched a finger to
her ear to block nature’s quiet but distinct noises – a bird softly
chirping, a bee vexingly buzzing.
She heard the word missing on the
other end of the line. Missing?
“Did you lose your car keys
again?” Malia inquired. “I’m sure they just fell in the street vent
outside the house again. Remember what we did last time? Just get a
stick, put some double-stick tape on it, and slide it through.
Piece of cake,” she assured.
More muffling.
Her brother’s name.
“Mom, I can’t understand you?” Her
heart began to race. She sensed the strange behavior on her
mother’s end and the two words – missing and Sam – had some odd
connection to one another. But her mind refused to make sense of
it. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Her mother eventually regained her
composure.
Something was missing. But it
wasn’t just the keys to her mother’s old Honda Civic.
No, it was something much more
valuable.
Her brother.
“Mom, I don’t understanding, how
can Sam be missing in action? I don’t believe you. Why are you
saying this?”
Her mother was silent. Waiting for
the wrath, the disbelief to pass. The inevitable denial. “How can
the other soldiers, his generals, how can they not know where he
is? He’s either alive or… or… he’s not.”
Her mother tried uselessly to
explain.
“But he can’t just be gone. People
don’t just disappear.”
More explaining.
“Well, yes, I know that they do.
But not like this. Not when so many people care about them.” The
wave of skepticism passed. The truth began to settle into Malia’s
mind like a sour flavored candy on the tongue and she
nothing in comparison to the horros waiting for me in Afghanistan.”
Malia shrunk in understanding and humiliation. Why did I have to bring this up? she thought. I barely know
this girl. I know nothing of her life. And I have the audacity to
offend her like this. “There is a war there,
Malia. But, you already knew that.”
Visions of her brother in a
soldier’s uniform carrying a weapon, sprinting through the
trenches, shooting a man. She could not bare to consider what he
and Danny were confronting as she sat here in the cafeteria,
enjoying a simple fast-food meal with Safiah. If only I could be a fly on the wall. The pain of not knowing suffocated her
mind.
“I can only appreciate the gift of
safety that America has provided me and my family,” Safiah
explained. Malia’s eyes were glassy. Safiah knew her focus was
currently directed elsewhere. A place less welcoming. “Malia,” she
whispered. Her senses returned to reality. “You have to have faith
in a better tomorrow.”
Malia sighed. “For weeks, I
would lie awake at night. Listening to my own breathing,” she
closed her eyes. “I would wonder if they were still breathing on
the other end of all this.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “I
never really believed.” She looked at Safiah. Her eyes projected
pain. The pain of her relatives still residing in Afghanistan. And
the pain of her sister. Only an infant. One of the injustices of
the world. Along with so many others. Like Beth’s mother. They were all
unecessary , Malia thought. It just takes courage to fight them, to
prevent it from happening to someone else .
She thought of Danny and her brother. “But part of me does
now.”
Her cell phone vibrated gently in
her pocket. Her home phone number. Either her mother or father. “I
should probably take this,” she stood and gathered her belongings.
“Thanks for the chat,” Malia smiled and strolled out of the Eagle
Café, leaving Safiah to munch on her Romaine lettuce in
silence.
“Mom? Is that you?” Malia sat on a
vacant park bench. She was alone in the campus garden, surrounded
by weeds and wilting flowers. It was still daylight, though the sun
was beginning to set slowly into the depths of the earth.
“Mom, I can’t hear what you’re
saying. Why are you muffling your words?” She touched a finger to
her ear to block nature’s quiet but distinct noises – a bird softly
chirping, a bee vexingly buzzing.
She heard the word missing on the
other end of the line. Missing?
“Did you lose your car keys
again?” Malia inquired. “I’m sure they just fell in the street vent
outside the house again. Remember what we did last time? Just get a
stick, put some double-stick tape on it, and slide it through.
Piece of cake,” she assured.
More muffling.
Her brother’s name.
“Mom, I can’t understand you?” Her
heart began to race. She sensed the strange behavior on her
mother’s end and the two words – missing and Sam – had some odd
connection to one another. But her mind refused to make sense of
it. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Her mother eventually regained her
composure.
Something was missing. But it
wasn’t just the keys to her mother’s old Honda Civic.
No, it was something much more
valuable.
Her brother.
“Mom, I don’t understanding, how
can Sam be missing in action? I don’t believe you. Why are you
saying this?”
Her mother was silent. Waiting for
the wrath, the disbelief to pass. The inevitable denial. “How can
the other soldiers, his generals, how can they not know where he
is? He’s either alive or… or… he’s not.”
Her mother tried uselessly to
explain.
“But he can’t just be gone. People
don’t just disappear.”
More explaining.
“Well, yes, I know that they do.
But not like this. Not when so many people care about them.” The
wave of skepticism passed. The truth began to settle into Malia’s
mind like a sour flavored candy on the tongue and she
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