Malik stayed apart from everyone and walked alone at the back of the line. Samira looked for his skinny figure there every day. He reminded her of the days she had spent sitting on her sleeping mat in the Baqubah camp speaking to no one, thinking there could be no friends in such a place.
“He doesn’t see us,” she said to Maryam one day. Malik had just hurried past without speaking. “We are just a bunch of faces to him. Not separate people he might like.”
“You people who were in the Baqubah camp are lucky,” said Maryam. It was Sunday right after lunch, and they had time to sit on a bench and talk. The air was cold but the sun was warm on their faces.
“Lucky?” said Samira.
“You’ve been together for such a long time. You really know each other. The rest of us have been in many camps. Every time I got to know another girl she was moved out or I was. I never had a good friend the way you have Anna. And the boys always had to stand up for themselves among people they didn’t know. None of us learned to be very friendly.”
She frowned a little and then looked at Samira.
“For me, this orphanage is better than the camps. I know you now and I don’t think they’re going to move us. But some of the others, they just hate being here and they don’t even want to try.”
A few days later Samira was in her room counting dry beans into groups of ten. Miss Shuman said this would help her with multiplication.
Suddenly she heard shouting and running feet out in the hall. She went to the door and in the dim light saw a boy holding a girl by her long braids with one hand and raising the other to strike her in the face.
The girl was Shula, one of the new members of Samira’s class at school. The boy was Avram.
Shula was staring at Avram with wide eyes, screaming, “Coward. Coward. Coward.”
Other girls were coming out of their rooms and moving closer to the two, who seemed to freeze. Avram’s hand upraised. Shula’s mouth open. But she stopped screaming.
Samira called to a little girl standing near the door of the building.
“Run, Alma,” she said. “Run and find Miss Shedd or a teacher.”
When Avram heard Samira say, “Miss Shedd,” he let go of Shula’s braids and turned to run out the door.
“Stop!” Avram paused and stared at Samira, who was astonished to realize that the loud command had come from her mouth. Before she could speak again or he could move, Miss Shedd was standing in the doorway.
“Tell me what is going on here,” she said in a calm voice. She looked at Avram. “To begin with, what are you doing in the girls’ dormitory?”
Avram said nothing, but Shula said fiercely, “He chased me in here. I came here for safety and he followed me.”
Avram glared at her. “You spoke evil of me. You insulted me.”
Miss Shedd glanced at all the girls gathered in the hallway.
“Go back to your rooms,” she said. “Nothing more is going to happen. Samira, you stay here.”
She waited until the girls were gone. Samira knew that most of them would be standing with their ears to their doors, hoping to hear what happened next.
Miss Shedd looked at all the closed doors and smiled just a little. She knew, too.
“We will go to my office,” she said. “Samira, you can come and tell me what happened.”
Shula folded her arms tight across her body and walked near Miss Shedd. Avram strode a bit ahead, trying to look as if he had nothing to do with the others.
Miss Shedd shut the door of her office firmly and sat behind her desk. She did not invite the children to sit down.
“Samira,” she said, “what do you know about this?”
Samira had only a little to tell, and she ended by saying, “Shula was screaming, ‘Coward.’ It made Avram very angry.”
Miss Shedd looked at Shula. “Why did you call Avram a coward?”
“He’s my cousin,” said Shula. “When they shut down the Mosul camp my brother went with the men to go back to their villages. Avram was afraid to go with them. Now he acts tough with the little boys but I know that he is not brave. He is…” She broke off as Miss Shedd shook her head.
“How old are you?” she asked Avram.
“Fourteen.”
“How old is Shula’s brother?”
“Sixteen.”
“Shula, how old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Did you think of defying the rule that said children under sixteen must go to an orphanage to be cared for? Did you think of trying to reach your home with a group of people you did not know? You are as old as Avram.”
“But I’m a girl. I couldn’t do that.”
“I see. For a girl there is a reason to follow rules. For a boy, no reason. Shula, your brother had to do what he did or he would have been forced into the army. It is wrong to compare Avram to your brother. And it is wrong to call anyone by a hurtful word. We do not allow that here. I hope you understand because it will never be allowed.”
Shula said, “Yes, Miss Shedd.”
Then Miss Shedd fixed Avram with her bright eyes.
“Shula was wrong. But you were wrong, too. Shula is the same age as you. She can make you angry. But could she defeat you in a fight?”
Avram stared at the floor. After a moment he shook his head.
“You are the stronger one and you can hold on to her and hit her. That’s not even a fair fight. It’s beating up on a smaller person. Avram, I said that hurtful words are not allowed. Hitting, punching and fighting are not allowed, either. Do you understand?”
Avram nodded and then he said, “Yes, Miss Shedd.”
“That’s good.”
Miss Shedd said nothing more for several moments. Samira knew that Shula and Avram were waiting for her to tell them what punishment they would receive. But Miss Shedd looked as if she was thinking about something far away.
Finally she spoke.
“Shula, I suspect that you’re worried about your brother. He set off on a dangerous journey and until you get back to your village you will hear no news of him.”
Shula stared at her. “How could I go to my village? My brother went with men who know the mountains. He had a chance. I’m stuck in an orphanage with no one to help me make the journey. I’ll never get there.”
Miss Shedd looked from Shula to Avram and then to Samira.
“You’re wrong about that. For one thing there are people here who can help you. For another you can do many things for yourself. Samira’s brother pointed out to me some time ago that all of you walked to Hamadan when you had to flee from your homes. I’ve been thinking about that. I am sure that all of you could walk back. But it will take planning and organizing.”
Samira felt almost dizzy. Ever since the day she had found the umbar, she had been waiting for Miss Shedd to say something about making the journey back to the villages. Now she wasn’t sure whether she was afraid or full of hope.
Miss Shedd got up and came around her desk to stand in front of the children.
“Are you interested in going home, Shula? Are you, Avram? And Samira?”
Samira decided she was more hopeful than afraid and answered, “Yes.”
Avram nodded but looked unconvinced.
; Shula said, “Of course, but…”
Miss Shedd shook her head. “We’ll have time later to talk about any problems you can think of. Right now, Shula, I have a job for you. I want you to make a list of all the things we will need to take with us on a long walking journey. Not food, but other supplies. Ask other people what they think. I want the list next week.”
She turned to Avram. “There’s a job for you, too. We’ll be walking for several weeks and camping at night. We’ll have a cook and a few other adults with us. I need to know what jobs you children can do to make this journey possible. Think about it, Avram. Ask your friends what they are prepared to do and make a list of all the jobs.”
She went back and sat down behind her desk. “I’ll see you here in one week, with your lists.”
Samira waited until the other two were gone, her heart jumping in her chest. She had to ask.
“Do you mean it, Miss Shedd? Can we walk back to our homes?”
“What Benyamin said is true. You older children already made that walk so you know you can do it. But you don’t want a journey like that one, again, do you?”
“No,” said Samira in a low voice. “My sister and my mother — ”
“Exactly,” said Miss Shedd. “You had no time to get ready. You couldn’t rest on the journey. Of course people died.”
Samira remembered the cart loaded with food. Her father taking tools and charcoal to boil water for tea. Taking such care.
“We had our fathers and our mothers then,” she burst out. “And still everything went wrong. Now we are just orphans.”
“You aren’t just orphans. Look at all the things you do every day for yourselves and for the younger children. And you won’t be alone on the journey. I’ll be with you and others will help, too.”
She looked into Samira’s face for what seemed a long time. “But you’re right. We won’t have a lot of help. Whether we can do it will depend on you and Shula and Avram and Benyamin and every single child. I believe that you can do what has to be done. After all, I’ve sent Shula and Avram out to start the work.”
“You mean the lists?”
“Not the lists. I can make lists. No, they’ll talk to their friends. You’ll talk, too. All the children will start thinking about this idea. Then, maybe, they’ll be ready to do the work. Everyone will have to help.” She sighed. “Really, I’m not worried about getting you children to help. There are other people who may not like the idea at all.”
“What people?” asked Samira. “Who wouldn’t think we should go home?”
“We want to go from Hamadan to places beyond Lake Urmieh. We can’t do it unless we get permission from government officials in several places. And every single official likes to feel he is powerful and important. It will be my job to get all the permits we must have. It won’t be easy.”
“But you think that in the end they will let us go home?”
“If we give them no rest and show them we’re ready, Samira, I think they will.”
Samira left Miss Shedd’s office with her head full of questions. How long would the journey take? How could they carry everything they would need? What about the little children who couldn’t walk so far? How would each child get to the right village? Who would be at home to meet her and Benyamin?
Benyamin. She had to tell Benyamin.
She found him playing a game with some other boys, using sticks to hit a ball up and down the yard. When he saw her he dropped his stick and came over at once.
“Has something happened?” he asked. “You’re all red in the face.”
“It hasn’t happened yet,” she said. “But it will. At least I think it will. Miss Shedd thinks it will so it will, won’t it?”
“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m just excited,” said Samira. “Remember how you told Miss Shedd that we all walked from our villages to Hamadan? Now she says, why can’t we walk back?”
Benyamin frowned. “I probably could or maybe you.” He looked around the yard. “But not everyone. You know what happened before.”
“Miss Shedd says it won’t be the same. We’ll have time to plan and we’ll take everything we need with us. She says it will be different. She says we’ll get home.”
They sat on a bench and Samira told him about Shula and Avram’s argument and Miss Shedd’s astonishing announcement.
“I think she wants us to talk about it so everyone can get used to the idea. Then when she tells us more about her plans we’ll be able to start getting ready right away.”
“She doesn’t like to waste time, does she? Well, let’s start talking.”
Within a day it seemed that every child had something to say about walking home.
“A lot of people died when we ran from our villages. I’m not doing it again. I’d rather stay here.” That was how Maryam felt.
“We just grabbed what we could and ran,” said Anna. “This time we’ll be organized. Miss Shedd will see to that. And no one will be after us, trying to kill us. The war is over.”
“We could still run out of food,” said Samira. “Or some child might wander off and get lost. Or people could get sick. But we have to try. We have to.”
Shula and Avram were making their lists. Shula talked to everyone and made neat lists divided into categories: dishes, cooking utensils, clothing, bedding, first-aid.
Avram tore a big piece of paper from a box of school supplies that came from America and wrote a list of tasks in big letters: Packing Up. Finding Fuel. Washing Dishes. Chopping Onions.
A week passed. On the eighth morning Miss Shedd gathered the older children in the eating room.
“I know that you have all heard about my idea that we can all walk together to get you to your home villages. I can tell you now just how we will do it. The journey will have two stages. First we will walk to the city of Tabriz on the east side of Lake Urmieh. All of you come from villages in the hills and mountains west of the lake. In Tabriz there is a big orphanage where you will stay while I send someone to find a relative or friend who will take each one of you into their families. When those people are found you will make the second stage of your journey to your own village. Right now we are planning the first stage of the journey. It will take us about thirty days to walk to Tabriz. We will need food and supplies and determination.”
She held up Shula’s careful lists and Avram’s big piece of paper.
“This is very good work,” she said. “But now we have to start putting the lists to good use. How shall we do that?” She waited, but nobody said anything so she went on. “We all want our journey to be safe and not too difficult. How can each of you help make it be that way?”
“We can pack what we need and leave unnecessary things behind,” said one boy at last.
“We can mend our clothes so they are strong for the walking,” said a girl.
Then Avram said loudly, “Getting ready is easy but when we are traveling there will be so many jobs that must be done. We have to prepare food and load wagons and look after babies and everything. No one can do all those things. I have to know what my job is.”
Miss Shedd nodded. “You are absolutely right, Avram. There are about three hundred children in this orphanage and there won’t be many adu
lts with us. I’ll be there, of course. We’ll have a doctor to take care of illness or injuries, and a cook who will have a wagon with all the equipment he needs to prepare our meals. Mr. Edwards will be with us for half the journey and a man from Tabriz will come for the other half. Three women will help the cook and the doctor and two men will ride out every day to find our camping place for the night and buy fresh food from the villages. But that is all. Maybe eight adults and three hundred children. Now, in your villages, who looks after the little children who can run around? Who helps the older children with their lessons and their tasks?”
“Their mothers.” “Their aunts.” “Their big brothers and sisters.” “Maybe cousins.” “Fathers.” “Grandmas and grandpas.”
“Yes,” said Miss Shedd. “And all those people are members of the family. Some of you have brothers or sisters or cousins here in the orphanage but most of you do not. So we will make families who will look after each other on this journey.”
Samira was puzzled. Make families?
Miss Shedd smiled. “These families will be different from the families you’re thinking of. We’ll call them caravan families because each family will travel in a group and camp together. You’ll look out for the other people in your family. Each family will have at least twelve children of different ages and, of course, girls and boys. You won’t have children under five in your family because they’ll be riding in carriers on the backs of mules, and the women will look after them when we camp.”
Miss Shedd looked around the room once more.
“I know you’re wondering who will be in your caravan family. I’ll let you know very soon. And don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to prepare for the journey. It’s November now and I hope we can make our journey next September. That seems like a long time, but we have a lot of work to do.”
Back in their room, Samira sat on her rolled-up sleeping mat and Anna paced, first around the edge of the rug and then from corner to corner. Finally she stopped in the middle and said, “I will not be in any family without you and Elias. That’s final. She says that families look after each other. Well, we already do.”
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