Page 255 - Leadership in the Indian Army

Laila gave him their names, and he said he would remember.

"Stay close," he said.

They sat on the bench adjacent to Wakil and his family's. It was a

sunny, warm morning, the sky streaked only by a few wispy clouds

hovering in the distance over the hills. Mariam began feeding Aziza a
few of the crackers she'd remembered to bring in their rush to pack. She

offered one to Laila.
"I'll throw up," Laila laughed. "I'm too excited."

"Me too."

"Thank you, Mariam."
"For what?"
"For this. For coming with us," Laila said. "I don't think I could do this

alone."

"You won't have to."

"We're going to be all right, aren't we, Mariam, where we're going?"
Mariam's hand slid across the bench and closed over hers. "The Koran
says Allah is the East and the West, therefore wherever you turn there is

Allah's purpose."

"Bov!" Aziza cried, pointing to a bus. "Mayam, bov"
"I see it, Aziza jo," Mariam said. "That's right, bov. Soon we're all going

to ride on a bov. Oh, the things you're going to see."

Laila smiled. She watched a carpenter in his shop across the street

sawing wood, sending chips flying. She watched the cars bolting past,

their windows coated with soot and grime. She watched the buses
growling idly at the curb, with peacocks, lions, rising suns, and glittery

swords painted on their sides.

In the warmth of the morning sun, Laila felt giddy and bold. She had
another of those little sparks of euphoria, and when a stray dog with

yellow eyes limped by, Laila leaned forward and pet its back.