The Terrorist (Point) by Caroline B. Cooney

Author:Caroline B. Cooney [Cooney, Caroline B.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781453264287
Publisher: Open Road Media Teen & Tween
Published: 2012-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

BILLY’S PASSPORT. SO MEANINGLESS back home.

So essential abroad.

“It would honor Billy,” whispered Jehran. “It would give his death a purpose.”

Honor. The word sounded proud and strong, and Laura thought of her brother, brave enough to hug that bomb to his chest instead of throwing it into the crowd to save himself. A chest where medals should hang, but that instead had been blown to pieces.

Purpose. Death. Honor. Laura could not connect these words to passport.

“But why?” Laura whispered back. She felt threatened.

Con, Kyrene, Bethany, Samira, and Tiffany sloshed perfume around. Their giggles were background music.

“My life is in danger, Laura.”

How foolish the sentence sounded. This was a slumber party. Nobody’s life was in danger; only the contents of the perfume bottles were in danger. Then Laura turned back into a person whose brother had been murdered. It was true. A life could be in danger.

“I must flee this country,” said Jehran, “and I have little time.”

Danger required flight. Had not dozens of students fled L.I.A. when Billy was killed? And now it was Jehran’s turn to flee. Using Billy’s passport? It was creepy and ghastly. Laura did not want any part of this.

“I look like Billy,” breathed Jehran. “Airport officials would believe that I am Billy Williams.”

Jehran did look like Billy. Billy’s own mother had noticed the resemblance. And beneath her elegant wardrobe, Jehran had the twiggy shape of a sixth-grade boy.

Billy’s passport.

His vital statistics. No longer vital, for Billy no longer lived.

Vital only to Jehran.

In most countries, it was illegal to travel without identification, the way in America it was illegal to drive without your license. In all countries, it was impossible to leave without your passport.

In the dressing room, the knot of girls shrieked with laughter. “Jehran, this room is too much!” called Kyrene. “We just found your stash of emeralds!”

“Those are fake,” called Jehran. “We don’t keep the real jewels here. Wear them if you want.”

Laura could well believe that the real jewels were not here. Nothing here was real; it was a front Jehran must abandon for some dread reason.

How Billy would have loved it.

Escape! Flight! Chase! Danger!

On his passport.

Not even getting Kraft to agree to a macaroni franchise, not even finding out that the 007’s of Britain were working on his case, would have pleased Billy more. He, secretly, clandestinely, would bring a friend to safety across the sea.

But it certainly wasn’t legal. She could not imagine her mother and father saying yes. Laura wasn’t sure she could say yes. There was something huge and awful about it, even though the passport itself was a slender pamphlet of a document.

Jehran’s voice was thready. She was afraid of being overheard. Laura’s spine turned to ice. Could those men with their heavy mustaches be listening?

“My brother,” explained Jehran, “wants to go home. He wants home more than anything on earth. He is so unhappy in England.”

Laura could understand that. Living in somebody else’s world would be exhausting, year in and year out. Laura was exhausted and she was practically English herself; it was just plain hard to live in another country.

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