Home Is Beyond the Mountains (9 page)

Grape vines heavy with
grapes festooned the walls. The grapes dried very slowly under the ground,
and the raisins were juicy and delicious. Before Samira and her mother
returned to the bright world above, they would pick a few of the grapes and
chew them slowly, remembering the summer.

“I think there's an umbar
here,” Samira said. “People must have lived in those two small buildings
before the barracks were built. They would have needed a place to store
food.”

“People like Mr. Edwards
would never think of an umbar,” said Anna. “They didn't store food for us in
Baqubah or Kermanshah and they won't here. They'll send food in. Endless
lentils and onions, probably.”

Samira made a face. “It
would be better if we had some food stored up. Something we could count on,
the way we did at home. We live here. It should be more like home.”

THE TRUTH WAS THAT
the
orphanage didn't feel like home. The rooms were dark and bare. Cold wind
from the mountains blew through the open windows. The children shivered
under their quilts at night and dressed quickly in the morning to run to the
eating room where hot tea and warm bread would be ready for them.

Mr. Edwards kept saying that
the director would arrive soon. But the director didn't come.

One morning in the middle of
October, Samira woke very early, knowing that something had disturbed her
sleep. She listened intently. On one side of her Anna was sleeping quietly,
but on the other side Elias was coughing and breathing heavily.

Samira went over to him. He
was hot with fever, and she could hear his breath rasping in his throat.

She woke Anna.

“Elias is sick,” she said.
“Go and get Mr. Edwards.”

Mr. Edwards slept in one of
the boys' dormitories, in a room right beside the main door. In only a
moment he was kneeling by Elias, feeling his forehead.

“You're right,” he said.
“I'll send the caretaker to the city. I hope the doctor can come very soon.
How are you feeling?”

“I'm worried about Elias but
I feel fine,” said Samira, and Anna said, “Me, too.”

“That's good. Stay away from
the other children until we find out what this is. But you can fetch some
breakfast from the kitchen.”

Samira sat down beside
Elias. His face was flushed and he muttered in his sleep.

Samira remembered Maryam's
face as she lay in their mother's arms. But she was so still. Elias could
not be as sick as she was.

The doctor didn't come until
nearly noon. Samira made herself busy wiping the little boy's hot face with
a damp cloth and keeping the quilt from tangling around him as he moved
restlessly. Anna brought her a piece of bread and a bowl of yogurt.

When Samira set them down
uneaten, Anna said, “It won't do any good for you to get sick, too. I'm just
as worried as you are but remember, Elias is a strong boy and he hasn't been
running through the wilderness to save his life.”

“I know. I just can't help
remembering.” Samira leaned back against the wall and ate the food.

When the doctor finally came
she waited outside in the corridor with Anna. It seemed a long time before
he came out with Mr. Edwards and closed the door.

He smiled at them. “The news
is good. Elias is a sick little boy but he doesn't have typhus or any of the
dangerous illnesses we watch for.”

Samira took a step toward
him. “You're sure? He won't…” She stopped.

The doctor looked at her
seriously. “No, Elias won't die. He'll be miserable for a few days but he
will get well. I'm wondering whether you two girls would look after him? The
important thing is to keep him in bed and give him plenty of cool, weak tea
to drink. Moving him all the way to the hospital wouldn't help.”

When both girls nodded he
went on, “Take turns being with him. I don't want either one of you to get
worn out and pick up what he has. I'll be back tomorrow to see how he's
doing. If he's sicker I'll take him to the hospital.”

When the doctor was gone,
Samira said to Anna, “I'd like to stay with Elias until I can see that he's
better. I can't help thinking of Maryam.”

Anna nodded. “I'll take my
mat into that empty room down the hall and get a good sleep tonight. Then
I'll be ready for Elias when he's feeling better.”

For the rest of the
afternoon Samira sat on her mat and watched Elias sleep. She gave him tea to
drink when he woke for a few minutes and sang softly to help him sleep
again. By nightfall she thought he was breathing more easily, and she fell
asleep herself.

The window was gray with
early morning light when she woke up.

“Are you sick, too?” a
scratchy voice said. “I've asked and asked for a drink.”

She leaned over to look at
him closely. His eyes were still bright with fever and he hadn't bothered to
sit up, but there was determination in his voice.

“He's getting better,” she
said to herself, feeling that she had woken from a nightmare.

“No, I'm not sick,” she
said. “I'll get you a drink.”

When the doctor came back he
said that Elias definitely was getting better.

“He doesn't need to go to
the hospital, but he must stay in bed until his fever is gone.”

The next two days weren't
difficult. Elias was glad to lie in bed as the girls sang to him and told him
stories. Then he began to feel better and it was a challenge just to keep
him quiet. Samira had to keep telling herself how glad she was that he was
not limp and feverish anymore.

On the fourth morning it was
her turn to look after him until lunchtime. He was hardly coughing at all
and he wanted a new story, an exciting one. Samira had eaten bread and
cheese for breakfast but she was hungry.

“Once there was a boy who
was hungry…” she started.

“That's not exciting,” said
Elias.

“Listen,” said Samira. “This
boy was hungry for something extra good, something very special. He heard
about an umbar, a cellar, where all sorts of wonderful food was kept. Honey
and rock sugar and fruit. It was a magic umbar where he could find anything
he wanted to eat.”

She paused. How would the
boy find this umbar? Elias was looking at her, waiting.

Just then she heard voices
in the hall. Who could it be? All the children were in school. Samira forgot
about the hungry boy. She got up and went to the door.

A woman wearing trousers and
a jacket was walking down the hall with Mr. Edwards, talking quietly. Her
hair was short and brown. Samira couldn't see her face, but she could hear
her voice, asking questions.

Elias got up and pushed
himself in front of her so that he could see, too. Samira put her finger to
her lips.

“Shhh. Be very, very quiet.
Mr. Edwards has a guest and we mustn't disturb them.”

Elias looked up at her and
said, “Shhhhh.”

Samira patted his shoulder.
By listening hard she could catch a word now and then.

“Windows,” the woman said.
And “cold” and “winter” and “wheat.”

Mr. Edwards kept shaking his
head. Samira knew what that meant. He was saying that nothing had been done
about the winter. No window coverings, no wheat stored up.

About halfway down the hall
the woman turned and saw the two children in the doorway. She smiled and
came toward them.

“This must be your room,”
she said. “What are your names?”

“I'm Samira and this is
Elias.”

“Is he your
brother?”

“No. He's just little so
Anna and I look after him,” said Samira.

“That's like being a
sister.”

“Yes, it is,” said Samira.
“And I have a real brother, too. Benyamin. He's older than I am. He lives in
the boys' dormitory.”

“You're lucky to have two
kinds of brothers,” said the woman. “Now I'll know who Benyamin is when I
meet him.” She paused. “I should tell you who I am. I'm Miss Shedd. I've
come to be the director of the orphanage. I was just telling Mr. Edwards
that there's a lot to be done. We're all going to be very busy.”

Samira couldn't think of a
word to say, and she couldn't stop staring. Miss Shedd was young, much
younger than Miss Watson or Mrs. McDowell. She wore trousers. And she was
the director.

Miss Shedd saw her surprise
and looked at her very seriously. “I probably don't look like the director
you expected. You see, I came all the way from Tabriz on horseback, and
these are my traveling clothes. When I got to Hamadan this morning I wanted
to see the orphanage right away. I thought the dormitories would be empty at
this hour. Please don't tell the other children about the trousers. Next
time you see me I'll be wearing a skirt and look the way a director should.”
She smiled and Samira had to smile back.

“I won't tell anyone,” she
promised.

Miss Shedd said, “Thank you,
Samira.” She looked down at Elias. “Young man, why are you in your sleeping
shirt at this hour of the morning? Are you sick? Should I send you back to
bed?”

She knelt down and took
Elias's face between her hands and looked into his eyes. Then she stood up.

“He has been sick, hasn't
he?” she said to Samira.

“He had a fever and sickness
in his chest. Anna and I have been looking after him.”

“He's better now,” said Miss
Shedd. “I've had some training as a nurse and I can't detect any fever and
he's breathing properly. You've taken good care of him but he should have
been in the infirmary.” She turned toward Mr. Edwards, who simply shook his
head.

“Another thing that hasn't
been done yet, I suppose. Well, we'd better get to work.” She looked at the
children again. “Elias, you listen to Samira and get well.” And she walked
away down the hall with Mr. Edwards.

Samira felt as if the air
around her was crackling with Miss Shedd's energy. She couldn't wait to tell
Anna about the new director. Of course, she couldn't tell everything, she
reminded herself. She had to keep her promise.

But Miss Shedd had not made
Elias promise. The minute Anna came in he said, “I saw a lady wearing
trousers. She said I'm not sick anymore.”

“It must have been a dream,”
said Anna. “Ladies wear skirts.”

“No. A lady came. She talked
to Samira. She wore trousers. Just like Mr. Edwards.”

Anna looked at Samira.
“What's he talking about? Is he seeing things? Is he worse?”

“No, he's better.” She came
close to Anna and spoke in a very low voice. “Look, it's a secret, but a
lady did come with Mr. Edwards to look at the dormitory and she was wearing
trousers. But that's not important. What's important is that she's the new
director of the orphanage.”

“Are you telling me that
it's a secret that the director has come?” asked Anna.

“That's not the secret. Just
the trousers are a secret. We happened to see her in her traveling clothes
because she came from Tabriz on horseback. After this she'll wear a skirt
like the other ladies. But she's not like the other ladies, Anna. She speaks
Syriac almost the way we do and she could see that nothing is ready for
winter. She told Mr. Edwards that something must be done.”

“Well, I hope I meet her
soon, no matter what she's wearing. We need a director,” said
Anna.

Elias spent the rest of the
day telling Anna about the lady who wore trousers. But by the next day when
the doctor came to see him, he had forgotten all about her in his eagerness
to get outside and play with his friends.

“I feel fine,” he said,
taking a deep breath through his nose. “See, I can breathe!”

“You are fine, Elias,” said
the doctor. “You go on outside and play.”

He checked Samira and Anna,
too.

“No problem with either of
you. But get some rest. You've done a big job keeping a little boy
quiet.”

Several days passed and Miss
Shedd did not come to the orphanage again. Now Samira began to worry. Maybe
the people in Hamadan had sent her away because of the trousers. Or maybe
they thought she wanted too many things for the orphanage and wouldn't let
her come back.

But Miss Shedd did come
back. One day Samira came out of the eating room after breakfast to find the
yard filled with wagons. The drivers were unloading rolled-up rugs and big
crates. Walking around supervising everything was Miss Shedd. She was
wearing a brown skirt and a bright red jacket.

“She looks so serious,”
Samira whispered to Anna. “When I saw her before she looked excited and glad
to be here.”