Behind the Lens by Jeannée Sacken

Author:Jeannée Sacken
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orange Hat Publishing
Published: 2021-10-28T17:04:45+00:00

17

I’m suddenly, inexplicably wide-awake. The darkness is heavy, weighing on me. Like in the stable at Khakwali, I’m waiting for first light, waiting for the Taliban militants to move in. My heart pounds against my ribs until it hurts to breathe. I strain to hear the slightest sound, to see a sliver of light—anything to let me know where they are, when they’ll come, so I can fight. My hands scrabble across the straw, searching for the gun.

But I’m not feeling the prickly straw in the stable. Soft wool slowly brings me back. Darya’s guestroom. In Wad Qol. Safe. But a cold chill still grips me. The back of my neck prickles. Someone is out there in the dark.

The leaves outside my window rustle. But there’s no wind tonight. This is the sound of someone making his way through the mulberry bush. When, according to Seema, no one should be in the courtyard.

I don’t move. I barely breathe until the night becomes quiet again. It could be minutes. It could be a half hour. When I’m sure that whoever was there is gone, I slip out of bed, and flashlight in hand, cross the room to the window. Open. Thanks to Cerelli and that golden voice he wrapped around me a few hours ago, I needed air in the room to cool off.

Pointing the beam into the mulberry branches, I find something that most definitely doesn’t belong. Tucked between two of the ripest berries, a leaf of white, lined notebook paper, folded in half. I snag the paper, move back to my bed, and read a few lines in grammatically challenged Dari, scrawled in what appears to be a very masculine hand.

You promised to come. I waited into the night.

One day when you want me, I will be out of sight.

A landay. And since I doubt either Darya or Tariq is exchanging poems in the mulberry bush, that leaves Seema. Who clearly has an admiring boy in hot pursuit. Which takes me back to last night and the voices I heard in the courtyard. Despite her denial, her hijab tells me she was outside. And now the boyfriend is back.

I refold the landay and tap it against the palm of my hand. Pretty innocent. I’m betting this is a first love. Sweet. Maybe a few kisses. At least they were in the courtyard, which is screened from the road. So, no one’s the wiser. Except for Auntie, who happens to be staying in the bedroom that overlooks the courtyard. Which makes it too risky for Seema to sneak outside.

Still, this is Afghanistan. There are people here who’d see any display of affection as dishonoring the family. But from what I hear, there are also plenty of teens who are breaking with tradition and finding their own love. Which I’m sure is what Dar and Tariq want for their daughter. After she finishes college. I slip the note back among the berries. I’ll keep an eye on her. For now.

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