Under an Afghan Sky by Mellissa Fung

Author:Mellissa Fung [Fung, Mellissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4434-0826-4
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2012-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

Be not afraid, I go before you always.

Come follow me, and I will give you rest.

Mercifully, I had fallen soundly asleep—the alarm clock now said six o’clock. It had to be morning. I’d missed the pre-dawn call to prayer. It was the longest I’d slept in a week. I went to the bathroom in the trash can—as I’d been doing most mornings, taking advantage of the fact that my captor was still snoring—and washed my hands with water from the watering can. Then I stood up and stretched and did kicks with my legs, just to keep them active. A routine, of sorts, although I didn’t want to admit even to myself that I was falling into one. It would mean that I was getting used to being a prisoner, and I wasn’t about to let myself go there.

Shafirgullah was still snoring when I heard the sound of footsteps above us. Could they be coming to release me? It made sense. Khalid had said it would either be after dark or before daylight. I heard someone calling out in Pashto, so I shook Shafirgullah’s leg. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Whoever was outside kept speaking. Shafirgullah stood up and leaned toward the opening of one of the pipes.

“Salaam,” he said. A brief conversation followed, and then the sound of something sliding in through the pipes. A box of cigarettes, followed by matches, a lighter. Then batteries and several boxes of juice—and two sleeves of cookies. Supplies, since no one had come the night before.

“Abdullah,” Shafirgullah told me, pointing up to the ceiling. I nodded, and put the juice and cookies into one of the white plastic bags, after taking an apple juice. I was thirsty and hadn’t had anything to drink since the previous afternoon. The juice was cold and tasted good.

“You, biscuit?” Shafirgullah was holding out half a box of chocolate sandwich cookies. I shook my head. He shrugged and stuffed the remaining cookies down his mouth, one at a time. It amazed me how much he ate. At least three packages of cookies a day, and several boxes of juice. I felt sick just thinking about it. I was really only eating to pass time, and to make sure I at least had a few calories to burn in case I ever needed to walk—or run—out of here. I could feel already that my hiking pants were a little loose. I’d been wanting to lose a few pounds, but this was not the weight-loss program I’d had in mind.

I stood up and stretched again, pointing my toe to the opening of the pipe overhead, and almost falling over. I steadied myself by putting a hand on the dirt wall.

Shafirgullah looked at me quizzically. I tried to explain that I was trying to get a little exercise, but that wasn’t a concept he understood at all. He pulled out his cell phone and played Snake Xenzia for the next half an hour or so, while I continued to do my stretches for the second time that morning.

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