Home Is Beyond the Mountains

by Celia Lottridge

  That was one day. Now another day had passed. Piles of bedding, a bundle of clothing for each child, baskets of spoons and bowls were lined up in the yard ready to be loaded onto mules or into wagons. The umbar had been emptied of dried fruits and vegetables, rice and flour. Miss Shedd was walking among the piles one last time, checking lists, making sure that nothing was forgotten.

  The children, too, went over their clothes and belongings again and again. Each was equipped with a canvas bag made by the Rooftop Family, and in each bag was a cotton scarf in case of dust storms, a drinking cup, a washcloth and any small things too precious to be left behind. Samira managed to squeeze her two books and the little measure she had found in the umbar into her bag. Then she had to persuade Elias that his stone collection would be too heavy to carry.

  “There will be plenty of stones along the way, I promise you,” she told him. He nodded, but she saw him slip three special round stones that always hit their mark into his pocket.

  She went to find Hanna, who had come from the city to help the younger children get ready. Hanna was worried about the weather.

  “I know you have your warm jackets,” she said to Samira. “But you’ll still be on the road in November. Cold weather will come. Wind and rain and even snow. And you children sleeping on the ground.” She shook her head.

  “But we have to go,” said Samira. “After all this waiting.”

  “I know. You have to go when you have the chance.” She smiled. “And you have Susan Shedd. She won’t listen if you complain about wind or snow, but she’ll get you there.” She gave Samira a hug before she went back to the city.

  Mules and their chavadars — the men who would load them and drive them all the way to Tabriz — had arrived that morning and were waiting restlessly outside the gate along with three big wagons called furgoons. The furgoons had canvas tops for shelter from rain and sun. One would be a kitchen wagon and one the doctor’s wagon. The third would carry supplies.

  The orphans who were too small to walk would ride two by two in wooden carriers fastened on either side of a mule’s saddle. Each carrier was like a box with a wooden seat inside.

  Monna got tired very easily so she would ride in a carrier though she was almost six. This plan worried Elias, who was younger than Monna.

  “I will walk,” he stated firmly.

  “You just turned five and some five-year-olds will be riding,” Samira told him. “Do you feel big enough to walk with us? It will be a long way every day and we can’t carry you. You’re too heavy.”

  “I’m big and I’m strong,” Elias said. “I can run faster than you.” He raced to the farthest end of the yard to prove it.

  There was no point arguing, and Samira knew that if Elias couldn’t manage the walk there would be room for him on one of the mules.

  Besides the mules there were horses for the outriders who would go ahead of the caravan and find camping places, buy eggs and meat, and ask village women if they could bake bread for three hundred people. Miss Shedd would have a horse, too. A big black horse named Sumbul.

  “You children will be strung out in a very long line,” Miss Shedd explained. “On Sumbul I can ride up and down the line and make sure that all is well.”

  During the evening meal on the third day Miss Shedd came into the eating room.

  “Something’s wrong,” said Benyamin.

  Miss Shedd waited for the children to stop talking. Then she said, “I’m sorry to tell you that we won’t start out tomorrow. The general in charge of military affairs here in Hamadan says that he has no orders from the Minister of War so he won’t let us leave. There’s nothing we can do but wait until they get their orders straight. Lots of games and circle dances will help pass the time tomorrow. Maybe I’ll come and join you.”

  But she didn’t. She went down into the city to talk to the people in the Near East Relief office. But day after day passed with no news. The orphans kept on waiting.

  The warm weather of autumn was coming to an end. Nights were chilly, and Samira could feel the edge of frost in the air. Miss Shedd had wanted to set out in September when the harvest was coming in and the caravan could buy grapes and melons and squash from villagers. But now it was October.

  “We have good shoes and warm jackets,” she said to Anna. “We can make it, can’t we?”

  “If we leave today we can,” said Anna. “But we’re not leaving today.” She was busy with the three- and four-year-olds and didn’t want to waste her time thinking about what might happen next.

  Samira went to talk to Benyamin. She found him squatting on the ground playing a game with two other boys. Malik stood a little distance away, watching. The players held small stones in their hands and on a count of three each boy threw several pebbles on the ground. The one who threw the largest number won, but only if his number was only one higher than the next one down. Often no one won for a long time, but that just kept the boys playing.

  Suddenly a picture came into Samira’s mind, a picture of Benyamin and his friends playing this game in Ayna. She was watching them from the rooftop so she could only see the tops of their heads and their hands reaching out to throw down the pebbles.

  Those boys. Where were they now?

  Benyamin stood up and came over to Samira. After a moment Malik squatted down with the other boys and picked up the rocks.

  Samira could feel herself smiling, and Benyamin said, “Are we going? Have you heard something?”

  “No. There’s no news. I was smiling about Malik. He’s willing to be part of our caravan family now, just like the rest of us. But, Benyamin, if we get to Ayna we might find no family at all. I’m not sure I want to go.”

  “All this waiting is giving us too much time to think and we don’t know anything about how things are in Ayna. We have to get to Tabriz and see what happens next.”

  It was true, Samira knew. It was impossible to stay in this place now, anyway. The whole orphanage had been packed away. It was as empty as it had been when they arrived more than a year ago.

  “Yes,” she said. “We have to go.”

  When she got back to the schoolyard she found Miss Shedd waving a piece of paper above her head.

  “Get everyone,” she called out.

  In minutes the yard was filled with children. Miss Shedd stood on one of the packing cases and spoke in a loud, clear voice.

  “This letter says that our final letter of permission will be delivered by a messenger early tomorrow. We’ll gather here right after breakfast, ready for the journey.”

  She stretched her arms wide, as if she wanted to reach out to all the children. “I hope you have been happy in the Hamadan Orphanage,” she said. “I have been happy to be here with you but it is time to give you a chance to get out from behind these walls and get on with your lives.”

  She jumped off the crate and made her way through the crowd of children. There was a moment of silence and then everyone began to talk.

  Samira and Anna gathered Elias and Sheran and Monna and David in their room.

  “You heard Miss Shedd, didn’t you?” asked Samira. The children nodded. “So you know that tomorrow we will start our journey.” Again they all nodded.

  “Tell us what you will do tomorrow,” said Anna.

  The answers tumbl
ed out. “We’ll stay near you.” “We’ll remember our bags.” “We’ll walk but no running.”

  “And if you forget, who will you ask?”

  “You or you or Benyamin or Ashur.”

  Then Monna spoke. “We’ll come back here after, won’t we?”

  Samira looked around the bare room. Nothing was left in it except the things that would go with them tomorrow. But it was home. How could it be that they would never come back?

  “We won’t come back here,” she said. “But we’re going to find new places to live. New homes. And we’re all making the journey together.”

  That night all of the girls had a hard time settling down. Each one packed and repacked her bag until Anna said, “That’s enough. Everyone into bed.”

  In a few minutes the girls’ rooms were quiet, but Samira knew that Anna was still awake.

  “Remember Mrs. McDowell?” she whispered.

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  “She would say that this is a step in the right direction.”

  “An awful lot of steps,” answered Anna, and suddenly she giggled. “I know that Mrs. McDowell never dreamed we would have to walk home. I don’t think she would choose to make this journey. She loved transport.”

  A memory from home slid into Samira’s mind. The whole family walking with Papa down the road and around a few bends to get him started on his journey to the market in the city.

  “Come with me and pour me on my way,” he would say. That’s what people in the village always said when they traveled away from home. “Come with me and pour me on my way.”

  “Mrs. McDowell would pour us on our way,” she whispered.

  Anna stopped giggling and said, “Yes, she would.”

  FOUR

  A Long Way to Go

  The Journey

  October 1923

  SAMIRA WOKE UP AT THE first light of the gray dawn and saw that Anna was already dressed and rolling up her sleeping mat.

  “I’ll get the other girls up,” she said to Samira. “You can roll up the rest of the mats.”

  The day had begun. They found the boys out in the yard, waiting for breakfast. The eating room was closed so they sat on the ground to eat their bread and drink their tea. Then they ran to get their sleeping mats and quilts. Benyamin and Ashur took them out through the gate to the chavadar who was to carry their things. They helped him load the mules and came back to the yard where everyone was waiting.

  Miss Shedd was standing near the gate, ready to receive the final letter of permission that would allow them to leave Hamadan. She was wearing trousers and a jacket, and she carried a small whip under her arm.

  “Why does she have that whip?’ asked Anna.

  Benyamin answered, “A horse sometimes needs a touch of the whip. Anyway, she’s riding like a man, not a fine lady, so she has to have what a man would have.”

  Samira thought he was right. Miss Shedd could not look like a weak woman. Not on this journey.

  For a long time the children sat on the ground, waiting quietly. Then the small ones began to get restless, and Miss Shedd came around to the families and said, “I don’t know when the wretched official is going to appear. You had better get some games going.”

  So Anna and Samira organized some circle games. Most of the older children wandered around chatting aimlessly until one of the teachers got them running races instead. Malik stood leaning against the nearest building, not moving, but Samira could see that he was keeping track of every member of the Rooftop Family.

  Then it was lunchtime.

  The cook came around with packets of lunch he had ready for them.

  “This is your first meal of the journey. Next time you’ll be carrying your lunch in those fancy sacks you folks made.”

  The packets contained bread and cheese and dried fruit. No one was very hungry but eating passed the time. After lunch some of the younger children simply fell asleep on the ground and the rest just sat. Waiting.

  Then, suddenly, there was the sound of a horse galloping up the slope. A man in a uniform with gold braid at his cuffs came riding through the gate. He dismounted and handed a big envelope to Miss Shedd. She took a moment to speak with him. Then she opened the envelope and took out a piece of paper.

  As she read it the expression on her face changed from relief and joy to disappointment and anger. Samira could see it quite plainly. What had happened?

  For several minutes Miss Shedd spoke with the messenger. Then she gathered around her the doctor, the cook, the outriders and Mr. Edwards. They talked with their heads close together. The children waited for what seemed a very long time.

  At last Miss Shedd went and got a wooden box.

  “She’s going to tell us what has gone wrong this time,” said Anna in a gloomy voice.

  “Shhh,” said Samira. “Listen.”

  Miss Shedd stepped up on the box and looked out at the children.

  “We have a serious problem,” she said. “Three hundred and ten of us are ready to set out on our journey but the government has chosen to give permission for only two hundred and eighty to leave today. This official will be counting and he will not let any more go out of the gate. We have decided that the two oldest boys in each family will stay here for now. As soon as their permit comes they will join us.”

  Samira looked around. Miss Shedd could not have said those words. But everyone was looking stunned. They had all heard her.

  Miss Shedd saw their dismay. “I know that asking these big brothers to stay here so that the rest of us can go is hard for everyone. It’s hard for me, too. But there is no time to weep and argue. This permit is for today. Tomorrow they might decide not to let any of us go. Say goodbye to the boys for just a few days. Then wake up the young ones and follow our plan.”

  Miss Shedd stepped down from the box. She went to her horse, put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle.

  Samira went over to Benyamin.

  “I can’t leave you here,” she said. “I won’t. We have to stay together. Anyway, how can we manage without you and Ashur?”

  Benyamin looked taller all of a sudden. “Samira, Miss Shedd is right. You have to go. For the next few days you and Anna can look after our family. Everyone will help. That’s why we’re a family, so that there is always someone to step in and take care of things.” He gave her a quick hug. “Ashur and I will help you get organized now.”

  Indeed, everyone needed to be organized. Some young children were crying because they were wakened so suddenly. Others were wandering around looking confused. All over the yard children were wailing and calling to each other.

  Benyamin went up to Malik.

  “Malik,” he said. “For a few days you and Avram will be the oldest brothers in the Rooftop Family. The rest of the family is going to need you to be with them and help them. Will you do it?”

  Malik didn’t say anything for a minute, and in the hubbub Samira was afraid he would never answer. But he finally looked at Benyamin and said, “Well, if they listen to me I will.”

  “That’s all I need to hear. Now let’s get going.”

  Samira counted heads. “Two little girls. Two little boys. Malik, Avram, Shula, Anna, Maryam and me. Ten of us. Do you all have your bags?” />
  Everyone nodded.

  “All right, Rooftop Family,” said Ashur. “Benyamin and I will walk with you to the gate. Remember, all of you, look for Samira or Anna or Malik or Avram when you need help. Stay together. Remember to — ”

  “We have to let them go,” said Benyamin. “They’ll manage.”

  Then the gate was in front of them. It was open just enough for one child at a time to go through. The official tapped each child on the head with his pen, counting them as they went past.

  When the Rooftop Family was outside the wall Samira turned to take a last look at Benyamin, but there were so many people crowding around the gate that she couldn’t see him.

  She reached out for Monna. There wasn’t time to find the mule carrying the box she should be riding in. She would have to walk this first part of the journey.

  They all turned to go down the slope, away from the orphanage and away from the city.

  Elias came to her and said, “Why are you crying?”

  Samira put her hand to her cheek. Tears were running down her face.

  “I’m not sure. We’re going home at last but this time we’re leaving things behind, too.” The room in the dormitory. The umbar. Miss Shuman. Benyamin.

  She managed a smile for Elias.

  “I won’t cry anymore,” she said. “We have to walk.”

  They walked. The sun set behind the mountains and they were still walking. Monna began to droop, and Samira and Anna took turns carrying her. Elias stumbled but he insisted that he could keep walking. Samira was tired, too, but comforted to see that all the children in the Rooftop Family were together with Malik always on the outside of the group, always nearby.

  When it was nearly dark Miss Shedd came by on Sumbul. She dismounted and led him as she walked beside Samira and Anna.