Veil of Silence by K'Anne Meinel Page A

The children, however, looked endearing in their jeans and t-shirts.  A big yellow sponge was on Amir’s shirt and a stereotypical Barbie on Bahir’s.  Marsha didn’t know what to do with their Afghan clothing.
    “Take that in here,” Linda offered, showing her a duffel bag.  “You may need them later.”
    Marsha took her advice, even packing the black burqa and the chador, as well as her more beautiful silk ones in gray with black patterns on them, carefully folding them against wrinkling.  She remembered when she saw the material that Zabi had acquired, either by trade, barter, or theft.  She’d been thrilled when Malekah announced that she would make the required garment so as not to shame Zabi at the celebrations they would be attending.  Marsha had smiled inwardly as she felt she got the better outfit.  Nothing could make Malekah look attractive.  If Marsha had made any gesture of pleasure or gratitude, the bitter woman would have made sure that the outfit would have somehow been ruined. 
    She packed the children’s traditional outfits more willingly.  These had been made by Zabi’s mother, Aadila, a crafty old bird who fondly adored her only grandchildren.  She didn’t like Malekah, had wanted Zabi to put her aside in favor of a younger woman.  This captive, this American woman, had given him prestige when he announced his intention to take her as his second wife, and this only after he realized she was pregnant with his child.  He anticipated a son off this healthy female.  He had been disappointed in the female child she bore him.  His anger had continued to the point that a miscarried son had taught him an invaluable lesson.  The birth of the long-anticipated son meant his legacy would live on.  He was sure this latest pregnancy was another son.
    Marsha was ready much sooner than the major had anticipated and Linda led her through the embassy to the roof.  She heard the chopper blades long before she saw them.  The noise was rather deafening and she could see the fear in her children’s eyes.  She faked her own happy face for their sakes.  She could feel the sweat that had broken out on her body.  Her forehead was beading up, and not from the extreme heat in this country.  “Remember?  The big bird?  We’re going to fly ,” she told them excitedly, hoping to fool them into enjoying the ride.
    Bahir was excited.  The story was coming true!  Being older, she understood more of what was going on.  Amir was terrified.  He hung back until Marsha had no choice and scooped him up to carry him to the chopper.  Her body protested.  One baby in her stomach and another being carried in her arms was too much for her beleaguered back.  She took it slow as she tried to hold Bahir’s hand and carry her duffel bag.
    “Good luck,” Linda shouted over the noise as they came out on the roof. 
    “Thank you for everything,” she shouted in return, blinking back tears from the dust that the chopper stirred up. 
    Linda watched as the pregnant woman, her children with her, hurried toward the open door of the chopper.  The child in her arms was screaming in terror.  The little girl looked on eagerly at the adventure.  A man dressed in battle fatigues stepped forward to take the duffel bag and help the passengers into the plane.  He scared the toddler in her arms further as he looked so odd with his helmet and earphones.  He shut the sliding door behind himself as he too climbed aboard. 
    Marsha felt dizzy.  She couldn’t believe she was in one of these contraptions…again.  The baby kicked painfully.  Amir was screaming his head off.  She sat down and grabbed a set of earphones and placed them over the toddler’s head.  He stopped screaming almost immediately as the noise was blotted out, then he looked about in wonderment at the strange contraptions.  She quickly eased him off her lap and onto a seat by himself, buckling him in.  She put Bahir into another seat and buckled