The Girl Who Played With Paper Birds

''Meryam! Come back. Get away from there! Don't run! I said...''

SCRREEEEEEECH.

I fling my head out of the window and grip the windowsill hard with my fingers. My nails leave dents in the worn wood. Sucking in a few lungful of cotton-thick air I swallow the bile threatening to climb up my throat and look outside.

I have heard father use this tone only once before and that day somebody never returned home. A moment ago, I was brushing my long, yellow hair, contemplating cutting them off because it took too much shampoo, and we were getting short on money. However, the thought of Mikael always stopped me short of reaching towards the antiquated scissors from my mother's cloth cabinet. Love, was reason enough to keep my hair even if they made life difficult for me. Though thousands of miles and customs kept Mikael and me apart until we were married love kept us in each others thoughts.

Tires skid to a halt in a shower of dust and noise only a few inches away from where Meryam has crouched in the middle of the road. She must have followed the butterfly she was playing with to the road.

Baba grabs Meryam by her forearms hoisting her in the air. She let's out a shocked cry, in terror of the loud noises that erupts around her in a cacophony.

''Are you alright?'' Baba asks. Meryam lets out another wail and grabs Baba's neck in a death grip. In the safety of his arms, her crying slowly dwindles.

She is going to get yelled at for running on the road like that to chase a butterfly and I'm not going to do a thing to protect her from it like the other times. It's better to get a fright and ringing ears than be buried six feet under and in here, children who remain children don't survive long. They must learn survival comes if you heed a warning and if in the process they learn to live their lives afraid then.... well, better that than dead. The mind can be mended and patched up like any wound, I believe. However, no prayers can bring back somebody from the land of the deceased.

A breath leaves my body in a relieved sigh and my whole body slumps. There exists a bond between Meryam and I that is stronger than sisterhood. Though I haven't birthed her, I am her mother in every sense of the word.

The emptiness that my own mother left behind in the house after she birthed Meryam was worse than anything I had felt in my young life. Sometimes, I still hear the short, panting breaths and the screams she couldn't help but let escape as she birthed Meryam without the aid of a doctor or any Anesthesia inside a hot, humid car. A throng of protesters had closed down the main road that lead to the hospital. Three people died on their way to the hospital and my mother was one of them. Thankfully, Meryam survived.

In my country, no matter how much we protest, our tormentors just change faces not deeds and bribery is so ingrained in the system, that the government would collapse like a castle made of straw, and then the military will come, just the way they did before and the little liberty we clung to will be taken away too.

Nothing will change, not the disappearing activists nor the bodies at the side of the road disfigured beyond repair, and without justice until, maybe, when the world ended and the politicians with watches more expensive that my father's lifetime pay disappeared and the common men stopped trusting rich men with their country and livelihood.

''Allah! You could have died Meryam. I told you not to run on the road!''

I can hear the fear-filled undertone in my father's voice even though he tries to hide it for Meryam's sake. Fathers are not afraid. They are stronger than mountains and their hearts are deeper than oceans and when the need arise they can do anything for their children. This is what he would like her to believe until he can't keep the truth from her.

Meryam stays silent.

''What would I do if you were taken away from me too, Meryem bete?'' He shakes her lightly as she plays with the cuff of his shirt. ''Don't do it again. You'll kill me.''

Father gently puts her down on the ground and she sniffles, wiping the mucus dripping from her nose on her already dirty sleeve. She stands there for a while looking up at him with trust and adoration. Then she runs inside the house.

She would forget this incident in a day playing with her dolls and talking with her make-believe friends, but the scene would stay in my father's mind for months.

Tomorrow, he will close the front gate shut with wood so Meryam can't get out without supervision. She would complain about not having a place to run around in. Father wouldn't relent until Meryam cried. Her tears were his weakness.

If Meryam asked for the moon while crocodile tears dripped down her face, father would give her even that and leave the rest of the world dark.

 ........

It was another evening in Kabul except for the guest in our house. I scrub the oil and grime off the aged pan. I was making halwa. Uncle Hussain was my father's beloved younger brother. He had come back from another of his 'adventures'.

He was an interpreter and self-taught himself seven languages from the internet. Now he's a useful tool for the US army in their war against the Taliban.

''Suhaib Jan, I don't have enough words to tell it to you all. That land was so beautiful, I didn't know whether to look or weep. I did both. The rivers were so clear you could see a grain of sand at the bottom of the ocean. There were birds of every shape, color and size. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.''

I look up to see uncle Hussain looking at Baba with a twinkle in his eyes.

''You should get married Suhaib. You deserve to be happy. Besides your daughters will get a mother.''

''Not again, Hussain. Stop about my marriage. My soulmate is with Allah and I will meet her in heaven. She would not like me taking a wife, and I cannot fathom anybody taking her place. Besides you know I don't earn enough to feed another mouth. I am happy as I am. Now, I just hope my daughters have a good future. Saleha is studying in the nearby government college and I'm about to admit Meryam too. They are very bright. If something happens to me, Saleha will be able to get a job at the least. I've raised her to trust herself.''

"Squeechu-squeechu-squeechu!'' A bird interrupts him mid-sentence.

Uncle Hussain let out a loud guffaw.

''This macaw... I named him Tommy. I saw him limping about a river bank in Mexico. Tommy has damaged a wing and will unfortunately never fly. I took him to the doctor, mended his wing and took him home. He's a very peaceful bird and when I saw him, I remembered Meryam bete. I knew she would love the macaw and I was right!''

''Baba! Can we keep the little birdy? Can we... please? I would take care of him! I would feed him.''

Dupatta on head, I walked towards the door way and smilingly took in the scene. Meryam was holding on to Papa's hand and looking up at him with big imploring eyes.

Already, I could see the reluctance in Baba's eyes at the thought of denying her.

''Meryam Jan, you are too young to care for a bird. We must give the bird back to Hussain mamu, you understand?''

''No! I'm not young. I'm five. I'm a grown-up. I'll take care of the bird. Please, baba. Please! I want the birdy.''

Bapa gave off a defeated sigh, and gave uncle Hussain's grinning face a withering glance. He took the bird from his out-stretched hands and helplessly watched as Meryam's let out a happy cry loud enough to shake the heavens.

''Now Suhaib.'' Uncle Hussain said. ''Come with me. I have important news to tell. It cannot wait...''

.....

''It was a few days after uncle Hussain left when the men came.''

Fear made me break out into cold sweat despite the heat as I narrated the incident to the lady police officer.

''To this day, I don't know who they were, aunty. Were they the Taliban, the Afghan military or simply somebody who had a grudge with Uncle Suhaib? My father is only a laborer. They came like a desert storm inside the house, tearing the front door off it's hinges and kicking the furniture. The noise woke us up and I'm sure it roused the neighbors too but nobody came in to stop them. Nobody dared. Everybody was afraid for their own families. They dragged Baba from the bed by his hair as Meryam and I screamed in terror from the side of the room. I made Meryam close her eyes and put my hands over her ears. They did not care that his children were right in there as they slammed their boots in Baba's face until he was so bloody, even my mother wouldn't have recognized him. They kept asking him questions about uncle Hussain. I couldn't look, but I could smell the blood in the air for days.

I hoped for the world to end and I prayed for the Judgement day, lady constable, but my heart did not stop. Father didn't make a single noise, for Meryam's sake. He did not want her to hear him scream.'' I sobbed. ''While they were dragging him out of the room, he whispered her name and even though he couldn't speak much he told me to take care of her.''

Shivers wracked my frame and my throat was clogging up. I wept so hard, I was unable to speak. The lady constable kindly offered me more water, which I gulped greedily.

''It took me three days to repair the door without father's help. The neighbors offered but I didn't want anybody inside the house. Hussaina, our neighbor, left food for us and I think that's the only reason we didn't starve.''

The lady officer quickly scribbled something on her official looking papers and then stood up. She laid a sympathetic hand on my head.

''Please..'' I begged. ''You'll get my father back, won't you? I've told you everything I know, their descriptions, what they did and the way the spoke. Meryam hasn't stopped crying and she wouldn't eat. I don't know what to do. I've never been alone like this... I...''

''We will do everything in our power to get your father back. Don't worry, Saleha, it will be alright. Just have faith and keep the door locked. I'm leaving an officer at your door. He has my number. If anything happens, he'll call me. Don't be afraid. It will be alright. Wipe your tears and be brave. Your sister needs you.''

I left the police station feeling drained. In the aftermath of the attack I looked around the house that I had shared with my father and only sister. The chest with my bangles was upturned, leaving broken, shimmery shards of glass all over. The door hung on it's hinges and our house felt robbed and unsafe.

That night and the three nights after, I didn't sleep at all. I started at every little sound, clutching Meryam tighter to me thinking they had returned for us. Neither Baba nor the men returned and after three days, I gathered the courage to go to the police station to report my father missing.

........

I grabbed Meryam's hand while holding the box wrapped in cloth with the other. It had the last of my mother's jewelry that father had vowed he would starve than sell. The wooden chest wasn't that heavy but holding on to Meryam's wiggling hand and dodging the oncoming traffic of people who barreled straight into us and expected us to give them way was very hard.

The smell of wet garbage, sweat and food assailed my nose making bile rise up my throat. Still, I continued walking.

Food was scarce. The neighbors had stopped leaving food at our door, and the little we did have dwindled to nothing. No matter how much it pained me to part with the last memory of my mother, I wasn't going to let my sister starve. I had a promise to keep to my father.

All Meryam did was talk to her macaw all day. The place she called home was no longer her safe heaven. The little scarlet macaw was also quieter than usual these days. He screeched sometimes at Meryam as if responding to her and then went silent.

The whole house reminded me of the stillness right after mother had died.

My heart galloped at every little noise and I ran to grab Meryam whenever a car slowed down outside our house. Meryam was getting tired of me and now yelled whenever I barged in to interrupt her play time or sleep.

I couldn't help it. I waited for father to return and was unable to sleep. Any second now I expected him to come in and envelope Meryam and me in a hug. I would call uncle Hussain except I didn't know his number. He didn't keep a single one, and always changed it frequently.

Around me, the world went on as usual, even though mine and Meryam's would never be the same again. The police officers kept in touch with me but hadn't given me any concrete news about my father.

Sometimes, I dreamt of father in a cold cell. He's hungry and in pain in those dreams and keeps asking me about Meryam as I try to break the heavy chains around his limbs. In my dreams. I assure him that I am keeping my sister safe and well-fed. I tell him I will make him meetha halwa everyday if only he would just come home. Right before he agreed, I would wake up drenched in cold sweat with Meryam plastered to my back for warmth.

One day, we woke up to find the cage of the macaw open. He was nowhere to be found. I convinced Meryam that the macaw had gone to find father and both of them will be back soon.

''Baba needs Tommy more, right? Tommy will cheer Baba right up and convince him to come back.''

''Of corse.'' I had said smilingly while running my fingers through her dark curly hair.

The bazaar was abuzz this time of the day. I half-way dodged another cart coming right for me. The old man threw maneuvering it gave me a disgruntled glance but refrained from saying something nasty. The noise of people talking, bartering with shop-keepers and utensils clinking couldn't distract me today. I was focused on getting to the shop my neighbor, Riffat, had told me about would give me a good price for my mother's jewelry.

I hoped the money would be enough to last until I found a good job.

Meryam tugged on my scarf insistently.

''That's Tommy!''

''Hush, Meryam. Let me concentrate. I think we are close to the shop. It must be right around here. I'll do my business quickly and then we'll go back home. I'll buy you some candy too.''

Meryam screeched. Much like the macaw did when it wanted attention or grains. I narrowly missed slamming my head into an oncoming car and righted myself, cursing at the car which whizzed past uncaringly. The wooden box was still in my hand, Meryam was gone.

I whirled around, frantic. My eyes chased every face in the crowd. How could she have disappeared in seconds?

''MERYAM!'' I screamed.

People gave me weird glances and a wide berth. Some of them, mostly women draped in chadar gave me a sympathetic glance but none intervened. Everybody had their own things on their mind.

''Meryam, where are you?! Come back!''

A flash of blue-green in the crowd, the color of Meryam's frock, saw me running frantically towards it.

''Meryam wait for me. Don't run. How many times has Baba scolded you not to run? Come back! Come here.''

Sweat dripped from my forehead and into my eyes making it hard to see. Still, I ran.

''Saleha!'' I heard Meryam call in a high-pitched voice from the back.

I whirled around, tears of relief filled my eyes. Then I stopped dead in my tracks. Meryam had both of her arms wrapped around uncle Hussain's neck. On his other shoulder was the macaw, Tommy.

Tommy screeched happily upon seeing me.

''I found your father, Meryam. He called me. I will take care of you both from now on. I am sorry I was late. I am sorry for all the grief I caused you and your father. It's going to be alright, I promise.''

He said with tear-filled eyes. My legs gave out from beneath me in relief and the world went dark.

....................................