by Chris Ryan
‘Good morning, Ben,’ Aarya said. Her English was surprisingly good.
‘Morning.’ Ben yawned. He looked around. ‘Where’s your dad?’
‘He has gone to the mosque to pray. My mother and I made our prayers at home when we awoke.’ She gestured towards the table. ‘Please. Eat.’
Saleem returned just as Ben was finishing his breakfast. His face glistened: it was already hot outside. Any of the awkwardness that Ben had caused last night had disappeared and his smile was as broad as ever. ‘Your mother has left?’ he asked.
Ben nodded. He didn’t want to show that he missed her already.
Saleem looked genuinely upset. ‘I had hoped to say goodbye,’ he announced. Then he rubbed his hands together. ‘Never mind, never mind. You and Aarya should leave. School starts early here, Ben, before the day becomes too hot.’
Moments later, Aarya was beside him, a small canvas bag of books slung over her shoulder. She smiled at him and led the way to the door.
The early morning sun was bright. It shone through the fruit trees in the courtyard and made Ben’s skin feel warm. ‘How far to the school?’ he asked Aarya.
‘It is close,’ she said. ‘Only ten minutes to walk there.’
‘Your English is very good.’
She looked away modestly. ‘I try to study hard,’ she said. ‘And I talk to any English people who come here. They help me.’ She smiled. ‘I am looking forward to coming to your country in the future.’
Ben nodded. They were in the main street now and it was surprisingly crowded. They passed shops that were little more than open-fronted stalls selling all kinds of things: brightly patterned material for clothes, fruit, records, engine parts. All the shopkeepers smiled at him as if they were trying to persuade him to come into their store. Ben, of course, just kept walking and looking around. Many people wore traditional dress: women in brightly coloured robes, many with headscarves wrapped around their heads and covering their hair, men with long beards and turbans. But there were just as many, like Aarya, in jeans. He noticed that she received some disapproving looks from a few of the older people, even though to Ben’s eyes she was dressed rather modestly — unfashionably, even. Ben himself attracted attention too, but more because of his white skin than anything else.
For a minute or so, they walked in silence as Ben absorbed the sights, sounds and smells of this strange place. But he couldn’t stay quiet for long. The conversation they’d had at last night’s meal had stayed with him and he wasn’t the kind of person to keep quiet about these things.
‘Aarya?’ he asked.
‘Yes?’
‘Last night at the table, I mentioned the Taliban and everyone went quiet. Why?’
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. She slowed her pace slightly and looked away.
‘I had an aunt,’ she said. ‘My mother’s sister.’ Aarya’s face had stiffened, and Ben realized that this was an effort for her. ‘She met a man, very religious. We are all practising Muslims, but some people would like things to be as they were hundreds of years ago. He was one of those people. They married. This was when I was still very small, but I remember her well. She was a kind lady.’ Aarya smiled. ‘She used to bring me sweets and play games with me whenever I wanted. But she did not stay in the village. In Afghanistan, the Taliban were in power. My aunt’s new husband insisted that they move there. To Kabul, the capital. He wanted to live in that very strict place.’
Ben was listening carefully. He felt as though all the sounds of the street had disappeared into the background. ‘What do you mean, strict?’ he asked. Aarya appeared not to hear him.
‘I remember the day she went,’ the girl continued. Her eyes were lost in thought. ‘I wept. I begged her not to go. I said to her: If he loves you, he would not make you. She just held me and promised that she would visit often. I wept for a week after she left and every day after that I asked my mother when she would come back to see us. Mother could never give me an answer, so soon I learned to stop asking.’
‘Why didn’t she come?’ Ben asked.
Aarya shrugged. They walked round a rickshaw that was parked by the side of the road. ‘In Afghanistan,’ she said darkly, ‘under the Taliban, women were not free to do as they wished. My aunt sometimes sent letters, but they told us nothing. My father says this is because her husband would have read everything first.’
Ben continued to listen in silence.
‘About a year after she left,’ Aarya continued, ‘we received word that she was going to have a baby. My mother was very excited. And so was I. In Pakistan, Ben, families are big. Everyone has cousins. But not me. I was looking forward to it.’
Her voice was quieter now. Ben didn’t know how, but he could tell she was about to reveal something terrible. ‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘The baby was born. A little boy. But my aunt—’ Aarya drew a deep breath, as if she was summoning the strength to continue. ‘She died. Under the Taliban, women were not allowed to receive proper medical care. My aunt was banned from seeing a doctor. She was banned from having medicine. She died a painful death.’
There were tears in Aarya’s eyes now.
‘We have never heard from her husband and we have never seen the child. We were happy when the Taliban were removed from power in Afghanistan, but even now my mother will not have their name mentioned in our house.’
Ben found himself blushing again at the memory of his insensitive question the previous night.
‘I didn’t realize the Taliban were as bad as that,’ he said.
‘They were worse,’ Aarya replied hotly. ‘You would not believe the things they did. Women were not allowed to go to school. They were not allowed to speak in public. They would be beaten with sticks by the religious police if they broke the rules, or even stoned in the street. To death, sometimes. People were executed in public in horrible ways, or had parts of their bodies cut off as punishment. Hands, ears… The Americans and the British did a good thing, removing them from power.’
Aarya was walking quickly now, as if the thought of it had filled her with angry energy.
‘Only they’re still there, aren’t they?’ Ben said, thinking of his mother. ‘In places, I mean.’
Aarya nodded. ‘There are people,’ she said, ‘even in this country, who still support them.’
‘Why?’
A frown creased Aarya’s forehead. She looked like this was a question that had troubled her too.
‘For different reasons, I think. Some people really believe that the Taliban were right; other people are just’ — she searched for the word — ‘just thugs. They try to force us to agree with them, but my family and I will not be bullied, even if it means trouble for us.’
‘Why would it mean trouble for you?’
‘There are families in this village—’ she started to say. But then she thought better of it. ‘God willing, the Taliban will be defeated in Afghanistan. Maybe then they will fade away from this part of Pakistan too.’
She gestured ahead. They were in front of a concrete building, blocky and ugly. Ben had been listening so hard to what Aarya said that he hadn’t noticed their surroundings. Now, though, he recognized the building from a photo the charity had sent him before he left. ‘School,’ the girl said proudly, raising one arm like a tour guide presenting a wonder of the world. ‘We are here.’
Ben was the last of the English people to arrive at the school: the others were all waiting for him out the front. Even though it was hot, the three girls wore long sleeves, which they had been told was the custom.
‘Morning, Ben,’ Mr Knight said as he approached. ‘Probably the earliest you’ve been up since Christmas Day, eh?’ Mr Knight was the kind of teacher who liked saying things that weren’t very funny. ‘All right, everyone,’ he continued when he realized he wasn’t going to get a laugh, ‘we’re going to sit in on an English lesson this morning. Best behaviour from you all. That includes you, Ed.’
�
��Yes, sir,’ Ed replied sarcastically, but he fell quiet when Mr Knight gave him a dangerous look.
They spent the morning in classes full of sixty or seventy young Pakistani students, all crowded into basic rooms far too small for that number of people. They’d been warned that it would be very different to back home. ‘It’s the only school in Kampur,’ Miss Messenger had explained to them all. ‘That’s why it’s so crowded, and there’s not enough money to make it bigger.’ The English students were clearly a novelty — Ben was not the only one who drew curious looks and the occasional giggle. He supposed that would die away once they’d been around for a bit.
By the time midday arrived and they were all dismissed to return to their families, Ben was exhausted. He was hot too. The sun beat down as he walked back out of the concrete building to the front of the school where he had arranged to meet Aarya. Crowds of children spilled out, the air filled with their chattering voices — mostly in the Pakistani language of Urdu, of course, which Ben could not understand — while he scanned the area trying to find his new friend.
There she was, about thirty metres away against a low wall. And something was wrong. She was surrounded by several boys and Ben could tell they weren’t trying to chat her up. Her chin was jutting out, but even from this distance he could tell she was scared.
Just then he heard a voice. His heart sank. Ed.
He was alone, without his exchange student. ‘What’s the matter, Ben?’ he taunted. ‘Your girlfriend in trouble or something?’
‘Shut up, Ed,’ Ben replied.
Ed snorted with laughter, then turned away. Ben kept his attention on Aarya.
He hesitated. He was a stranger here. It wasn’t his place to get involved in schoolyard fights that he didn’t understand. Maybe he should hold back. See how things panned out. Aarya was pretty feisty, wasn’t she? She could take care of things…
But as these thoughts went through his head, he knew he couldn’t stand by and watch his new friend being bullied. Aarya was all by herself and the boys were closing on her.
Ben shut his eyes.
He cursed under his breath.
And then he ran towards her.
Chapter Four
There were four of them. Ben counted them while he ran. And as he approached, it became clear that they were all broad-shouldered and quite a bit bigger than him. He stopped just a few metres behind them. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded.
Aarya looked at him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. ‘Please, Ben. Don’t…’
But it was too late. As one, the four boys turned to stare at him.
They all looked very alike, with dark hair and thick, bushy eyebrows. They each had their own distinguishing characteristics, however. One had a large, hooked nose; another wore a gold-coloured chain around his neck; the third had a bruise on the side of his face; and the fourth wore an embroidered but dirty hat. The lad with the hook nose looked like the leader and he spat something out in a harsh-sounding language. The others laughed. It wasn’t a good sound.
Ben wasn’t going to be intimidated. He pushed past them and approached Aarya. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she replied. She didn’t look like she was very pleased to see Ben. Suddenly she shouted in alarm. Ben felt hands grabbing him on either side. He struggled, but they were too strong for him. All he could do was watch as the hook-nosed boy strode up to Aarya and with a forceful yank pulled her school bag from her shoulder. Aarya shouted out again. She tried to grab it back, but he just pushed her away then turned to Ben. His dark eyes were full of contempt. The boy smiled an ugly smile and then, without any warning, punched Ben hard in the stomach.
Ben gasped for breath. He tried to double over, but the others were still holding him upright. Until, that is, they threw him onto the ground and the four of them walked away, laughing harshly.
Aarya bent down and placed one hand lightly on his shoulder. ‘Ben, are you all right?’
‘On top of the world,’ Ben replied in a hoarse whisper as he pushed himself back up to his feet. ‘Who were the ugly brothers, then?’
He noticed that there were tears welling up in Aarya’s eyes. ‘They are thugs,’ she said. ‘Just thugs. They do not think I should be allowed in the school.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I am a girl.’
Ben frowned. ‘Well, we have to get your books back.’
‘No, Ben. Just leave it. It’s best to stay away from them, all right?’
‘No,’ Ben replied. ‘It’s not all right. What’s so great about that lot that makes them untouchable?’
‘There’s nothing great about them, OK, Ben?’ Aarya said waspishly. ‘They’re just not very nice and they come from bad families.’
Ben blinked. ‘You said they didn’t think you should be allowed to come to school because you’re a girl,’ he said. ‘They’re not, you know, Taliban…?’
‘Of course they’re not Taliban.’ The way she spoke, Ben wondered if she had forgotten he’d just tried to help her out. ‘The Taliban are not strong in Kampur. They’re just…’ She looked like she was struggling to find the word.
‘What?’ Ben demanded. ‘Sympathizers?’
Aarya shrugged. ‘Maybe. Something like that.’ She scowled. ‘I have never seen them at the mosque, though.’
Ben felt angry. ‘Do you know where they live?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘On the outskirts of the village. Away from other people.’
‘Come on, then.’
‘What?’
‘We’re going to get your bag back.’
Aarya shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, turning and starting to walk away.
‘It does matter,’ Ben called after her. As he spoke, he saw Ed, watching him from a distance, that unpleasant sneer still on his face.
‘Hey, Aarya,’ Ben shouted. ‘I thought you told me earlier today that you weren’t going to be bullied.’
That got her attention. She spun round and there was a fire in her eyes. ‘I won’t,’ she stated fiercely.
‘Well, in that case,’ Ben said, walking up to her and trying to pretend that his stomach didn’t still hurt from the punch, ‘let’s go and get your books back.’
Aarya led Ben to the outskirts of the village. It was different here. Quieter. Less bustling. Ben supposed that most people were sheltering from the midday heat.
‘My mother will be expecting me at home,’ Aarya said.
‘We won’t be long,’ Ben told her. ‘Come on, Aarya. If you don’t stand up to these people, they’ll only keep on doing it.’ Aarya looked down, and with a flash of insight Ben sensed that this had been going on for a long time.
They turned a corner and found themselves at one end of a long street. There were a handful of beaten-up old vans parked on either side, and a thin dog sat in the middle of the road, its tongue lolling from the side of its mouth. Along each side of the road were wooden shacks, all of them closed up with rolling metal shutters and big locks. At the end of the street was a high, sand-coloured wall with an iron gate; and beyond that Ben could just make out the top of a house.
Aarya pointed down the road. ‘Raheem lives there,’ she said.
‘Raheem?’ Ben asked. ‘Is he the one that took your bag? The one with the big nose?’
She giggled, despite herself. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The one with the big nose.’
Ben looked at the building. It was imposing, somehow. ‘You think he’s at home now?’
‘It is midday. Most people are.’ And then, looking around nervously: ‘We should be.’
He chewed on his lower lip. ‘All right, then,’ he said. ‘Let’s just go and knock on the door. He won’t want his parents to find out what he did, will he?’
Aarya snorted. ‘His parents are worse than him.’
‘What do you mean?’
The girl scowled. ‘There are rumours, that is all.’
‘What kind of rumours?’
‘People
visit them. People who are not from here. Just passing through.’ She seemed reluctant to speak.
‘They’re allowed to have visitors, aren’t they?’
But Aarya avoided his question. ‘I think we should go home,’ she muttered. ‘I do not want anything to do with this family.’
‘No,’ Ben insisted. ‘Come on — it’ll be all right. What’s the worst they can do?’ He winked at her. ‘Anyway, I’m supposed to be seeing the sights, aren’t I?’
He strode forward. Aarya followed a few paces behind.
As they approached, the dog that had been sitting in the middle of the road scampered away, as though the approach of humans was something to fear. It seemed to Ben that it took a long time to walk the length of the road. His shirt stuck to his back from the sweat and the sun pounded on his head.
They were perhaps twenty metres from the gate when they stopped. A vehicle had suddenly appeared, pulling up outside Raheem’s house after having turned into the road from the opposite end. Ben didn’t know what it was that made him want to hide. Perhaps Aarya’s nervousness had put him on edge; perhaps it was the vehicle itself. It was ordinary enough in its way — just a beige-coloured Land Rover — but it stuck out in this town where most of the vehicles were rusty and dented. It also stood out because there was a man hanging from the side, wearing black robes and with a rifle strapped across his back.
More by instinct than anything else, Ben pulled Aarya by the wrist and dragged her towards the cover of one of the vans by the side of the road. Once they were out of sight, they peered round the vehicle and watched.
‘What is it?’ Aarya whispered.
‘I don’t know,’ Ben said. ‘Let’s just say I’ve just got a bit of a thing about men with guns. A few bad experiences in the past.’
Aarya nodded emphatically and they went back to watching.
The Land Rover stopped to one side of Raheem’s gate and the man jumped down. Immediately two others spilled out. They were identically dressed and both carried weapons. One of them barked an instruction and the other two began looking around. The robed man Ben had seen first started walking down the road towards them, looking left and right as if checking that there was no one foolish enough to be out in the midday sun.