Off the Books by Soma Mei Sheng Frazier

Off the Books by Soma Mei Sheng Frazier

Author:Soma Mei Sheng Frazier
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.


9

CORFU TO SYRACUSE

“Could be the battery, could be the alternator. The starter or connection cables,” the squat man says as she fills out the paperwork. RAMON is stitched into his old-school mechanic’s shirt. “I can diagnose it this morning, if you want to wait.”

She nods. “Yes, please. That’d be great.”

“There are a few cars ahead of you, but I’ll be quick. I’m off at noon. Shouldn’t really even be here today.”

She hands him the clipboard. “Is there someplace I can bring her while you take a look? Other than in there?” Eyeing the small waiting room with its coffee machine, generic creamers, and Styrofoam cups, she nods at Anna. She’s unsure of exactly where they are, of exactly where the tow truck dragged them after their long wait in the travel lodge’s parking lot.

“Been on the road awhile?”

“Yup.”

“There’s a nice trail out back, running along the forest’s edge. Short but scenic. Got a restaurant at the end, if you go south. I can call you when I figure out what’s wrong. I know road trips are tough on kids”—he lowers his voice—“and tough with kids.”

“Thanks,” she says. She glances at Anna, who’s studying an out-of-place flyer posted on the wall among ads for discount car services. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A DOCTOR TO SAVE LIVES, it says. BE A HERO. SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL BLOOD DRIVE. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the girl was reading the words.

“You’re very welcome.”

If only this kind man knew half of what the girl’s endured, that hours in the back seat of a car, left alone to her daydreams, are lovely in comparison. But few people are aware of the Uyghurs’ predicament. She, herself, had barely skimmed the news stories till it became personally relevant.

“First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out…” She remembers Martin Niemöller’s eerie poem. Would the United States have stepped in and helped stop the Holocaust if the Nazis hadn’t posed a threat to our European allies? During World War II, liberating camps was a secondary mission. Yet we’ve adopted that heroic task as integral to our national identity. So, what is our real responsibility toward children who suffer, parents without protection, populations being squashed under a boot? How bad does it have to get, she thinks, before we do more than impose sanctions? Before we apply real pressure to the United Nations? Increase U.S.–Uyghur ties? Become a true safe haven for refugees whose freedom does not constitute a political advantage? How long before we plant ourselves firmly on the right side of history? Or at least, closer to right?

The trail behind the repair shop, half-hidden behind scrappy hedges, is an oasis for mosquitoes and retired, strolling couples. Sunlight filters through the hedgerow to gild the dark forest’s edge. “Měilì de fēngjǐng,” the girl says, and because her own name, Měi, means “beautiful,” she supposes this must be a comment on the scenery.

The girl skips ahead, making room for a white-haired couple to pass, and



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