Trent Reedy - Enduring Freedom

N othing in the world was so comforting or wonderful as the Afghan family. Never was that clearer to Baheer than at mealtimes, especially on one of the last warm nights in September when the entire family could eat outside together. Well, they wouldnt quite all eat together, as there was no dastarkhwnthat could be spread wide enough to fit all eighteen of themtwenty if you counted Uncle Kabirs newborn twinsto gather around. The women and girls would sit on the floor of the concrete porch with their meal on the larger cloth, for the women and girls far outnumbered the men in this family. The men and boys would gather around the other dastarkhwn right next to them. Soon the sound of two conversations, the women talking about spices they used in the meal and what they were up to and the men discussing their business, would echo through the back courtyard off the high compound walls that provided them privacy and kept them safe from the outside world.

Baheers sister Maryam walked past with a big bowl full of salad made of tomatoes and onions. You could help, you know. She elbowed him. Dont just stand there smiling and doing nothing. At seventeen, she was only a year older than Baheer, but she sometimes acted as if a decade were between them.

Baheers father, Uncle Kabir, and Uncle Feraidoon had returned from a hard day producing and selling woven rugs, and they waited over by the pomegranate bush, discussing the day.

Aunt Zarlashta, Baheers favorite aunt, smiled as she placed dishes of korma, a thick mutton curry, out for the family to eat. Baheer prepared the water pitcher and basin that would be passed around so everyone could wash their hands.

Eventually all the family gathered around plates covered in mountains of rice, salad, and korma. Everybody was ready except for the one person without whom the meal could never start, Baheers grandfather, Haji Mohammad Munir Khan.

My dear, Grandmother called into the house. Will you please put that thing down and come eat?

Baheer and some of the others looked toward the east wall of the compound nervously. Even though she had not mentioned a radio, everyone was very aware that a talib, a member of the Taliban, lived on the other side of that wall. If he had heard grandmother and somehow guessed what she was talking about, they could all be in a lot of trouble.

Ill go check on him, Grandmother, Baheer offered, rising from his place and heading into the house. He found Baba Jan, as he often did in the evening, in the main room with the radio perched on his shoulder, the volume low. He nodded at Baheer, stroking his long white beard.

Baheer could barely hear BBC Pashto. Da London dai, BBC raadio...

Baba Jan turned the volume down further.

Baheers stomach rumbled. Grandmother wants you to

Baba Jan held up a hand for silence. A moment later he shouted, What!

What happened? Baheer asked.

Grandpa turned the knob to click the radio off. In a daze, he put his hand on Baheers shoulder as he walked out to join the others.

Is everything OK? asked Baheers father.

I heard you shout, Grandmother said.

The Taliban have killed Ahmad Shah Massoud, Baba Jan said.

The Lion of the Panjshir, Baheer said quietly. Thats what many people called the last mujahideen commander holding out against the Taliban. Without him and his forces, the remaining free parts of Afghanistan in the northeast would fall to the Taliban.

The family washed their hands, prayed, and then finally began eating. Baheer picked up a mouthful of rice in his fingers, dropping a few grains as he hadnt done since he was a toddler.

Uncle Feraidoon frowned as he chewed. He glanced at the east wall and spoke quietly, breaking the tense silence. If the Taliban have finally succeeded in killing Massoud, they will be bolder than ever. We will all need to be more careful to follow their so-called precious rules.

Uncle Kabir pointed at his brother with a piece of naan. Speaking of Taliban rules, keep your turban on at all times when you go out. Your beard isnt long enough, so you need to keep your head shaved.

Uncle Feraidoon protested. I dont like shaving my head.

Oh, Zarlashta, you did such a wonderful job with this korma. Grandmothers smile seemed forced. Dont you all

The Taliban have tried to kill the Lion for years, Baba Jan said. They couldnt have succeeded without help. Ive heard of their new allies. This Al-Qaeda. Dangerous men. Outsiders.

Uncle Kabir shrugged, wiping a bit of sauce off his beard with the back of his hand. Ever since I was a teenager there has been one terrible thing or another. The Soviet invasion. The civil war. The terrible

Uncle Feraidoon coughed loudly. Careful.

The Taliban, Uncle Kabir said quietly. Fighting never stops, but we push on. More rugs to sell.

Baheer fought the urge to check the east wall. His brother Rahim, sitting next to him, leaned over to bump his shoulder against Baheer, raising his eyebrows as if asking if Baheer could believe all this. Baheer and Rahim didnt always need words to communicate.

I think tomorrow we might have chicken, Grandmother tried again. I have an idea to try some new spices.

That sounds wonderful, Baheers mother said nervously.

Baheer knew they would not succeed in changing the subject. Even if they did, he felt sure Maryam would ask Baba Jan a question to get them back on the topic of Ahmad Shah Massoud. She loved keeping up with Afghan and world events.

This situation is different. I can feel it, Baba Jan said.

Baba Jan was the bravest man Baheer had ever known. He had been chief of police many years ago. After the Soviet Union invaded, he was eventually arrested for continuing to follow the ways of Islam. He was sentenced to death, but his friend, a high-ranking military officer in the puppet Afghan government the Soviets had established, convinced the Russians to release him. Baba Jan was unstoppable, but now he tugged his beard, the lines in his face deepening somehow. Baheer hadnt seen him this way in a long time.

Allah will protect us, Grandmother said.

Baba Jan stared toward the east wall and the talibs compound. Something very bad will happen soon. Allah have mercy.

You know Allahs words from the Holy Quran. Trust him. Grandmother sounded soothing.

I know. Allah says in his book, in chapter 22, verse 65, For God is Most Kind and Most Merciful to man.

His grandfather was also the wisest man Baheer knew. He read the Holy Quran every day, memorizing many passages. He read histories and poetry. He remembered and sometimes talked about better times in Afghanistan, when the country was so wonderful and peaceful that Westerners would visit on vacation. And he sometimes spoke of the terrible tragedy of the countrys wars. There were ruins of a stall in the bazaar a few blocks away that Baba said used to be a bookstore until it was burned down during the civil war among the Mujahideen. No one dared to open the bookstore now in the dark era of the Taliban. Baba Jan sometimes told Maryam, Rahim, Baheer, and his other grandchildren about how he had often stopped by the stall to talk to his friend, who owned the place, and to pick up a new treasure in the form of a book.