Ground Zero(15)

Reshmina hiccuped a sob, and then swallowed her grief. She couldn’t let Pasoon think she was crying over dead Americans.

“They even shot down an American helicopter with an RPG!” Pasoon said. He mimicked the sound of a rocket-propelled grenade streaking across the sky. “Shhhhhhhhhhh—”

Pasoon paused before he could say “Boom.” Over Reshmina’s shoulder, he caught sight of Anaa, Baba, and Marzia huddled in the next room. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Reshmina tried to move to block his view, but Pasoon pushed past her. Reshmina raced after him but it was too late. Her brother stopped and glared down at the American soldier, his face twisting into an angry scowl.

“What is that doing here?” he cried.

“He’s wounded. He can’t see,” Reshmina said. “He needed help.”

“Did you touch him?” Pasoon cried.

“No! He followed me here!” Reshmina turned to her father for help. “But it’s Pashtunwali to help him, isn’t it, Baba? To give him refuge, even if he’s an enemy?”

“So is revenge!” said Pasoon. “Or have you forgotten that they killed our sister?”

Reshmina glanced over at Taz. It was clear that the American didn’t understand what the family was saying, but he could sense they were arguing.

“He didn’t kill her,” Reshmina said.

“If he didn’t do it, his people did!” Pasoon said. “He probably killed somebody else’s sister. We should turn him over to the Taliban!”

“No!” Reshmina cried.

“Enough,” said Baba. “This man has asked us for our help, and so we will help him.”

Reshmina raised her chin to her brother, triumphant.

“I can’t believe it!” Pasoon cried. “They’re the terrorists here. All of them. They just call it a war. And you let one of the terrorists into our house! If you’re not going to tell the Taliban, I am.”

“No, you’re not,” Baba told him. “While you live under my roof, you live by my rules.”

“Then I no longer live under this roof!” Pasoon yelled, and he stormed out the back door.

Reshmina started to follow him, but Anaa reached out for her hand.

“Let him go, Mina-jan,” she said. “He just needs to blow off a little steam.”

Reshmina nodded. Pasoon had often stormed out after arguing with Baba, and he always came back.

But what if this time was different?

“Reshmina?” Taz asked at last. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“I am here,” Reshmina said in English. “My father offers you refuge in our house.”

“I thought I heard someone say Taliban,” Taz said. “He’s not going to turn me over to them, is he?”

Reshmina translated Taz’s question for her father.

“Tell him that even if there are only women and children left alive to fight in our village, we will not let the Taliban take him,” Baba said to Reshmina. “He is under our protection now.”

Women and children might be all that were left, Reshmina thought, along with a few old and wounded men. The very people they were swearing to protect Taz from were the village’s sons and nephews and brothers who had left to join the insurgents in the mountains.

Reshmina translated her father’s assurances for Taz.

“I—Wow. Tell him thank you. Manana,” Taz said in badly accented Pashto. “Thank you.”

“There is no guarantee the Taliban will respect Pashtunwali,” Baba said, “and the longer this man stays here, the longer he is a danger to himself and us. He must be returned to his people as soon as possible.”

“My friends will come looking for me,” Taz said. “The other soldiers who were with me.”

“The other soldiers are dead,” Reshmina told him. She hated to be so blunt, but she didn’t have the words to say it more gently. “So is an Apache,” she said. She didn’t know the English word for helicopter, but she knew Taz would understand. Her teacher had taught her that the Americans named their flying deathships after other tribes they had conquered.

“The Taliban killed them all and took their bodies,” Reshmina said. “I am sorry.”

Taz lay back, stunned. “The other American? Him too?”

“I think so, yes,” said Reshmina.

Tears welled in the corners of Taz’s blackened eyes. “That guy was my brother,” Taz said. “They all were. And today, of all days.”

“The Afghans? And the woman also? Mariam? She was your brother?” Reshmina asked.

“Not really my brothers. I trained with those men, that woman, for a long time. They were like my family. My people. Do you understand?”

“Your tribe,” Reshmina said.

“Yes,” said Taz. “My tribe.” He wiped his eyes. “Tell your father my radio is broken, and if my people think the Taliban killed me and took me away, they won’t come back here looking for me.”

Reshmina translated for her father, and Baba nodded. “I must go and tell the other families in the village,” he said. “They must know what we have done. Then I will go to the ANA base and tell them this American is here. They can let the Americans in Asadabad know.”