Read Online A Far Away Home by Howard Faber - Free Book Online Page B

They talked about how someone shot at the
principal at school and wondered who had been so brave as to do that. Ali wanted
to tell them, to brag about it, but again he decided to keep it to himself, so they
couldn’t be forced to tell about it.
    For about ten minutes, the resistance group talked about how best to ambush the Russian
soldiers. Plans were forwarded, then rejected for various reasons. Ali thought he
might know a way, but he hesitated because he was young and just joined the group.
He didn’t think they would listen to him. Finally he cleared his throat and began
to suggest a plan. “What about the bridge? They will surely come by the road from
Bamiyan. It’s the best place to ambush them.”
    There was silence, until Askgar asked him for more about this idea. Ali continued.
“We could weaken the bridge at one end. No one would see us working under the bridge.
I don’t think anyone is watching it anyway. We could weaken it so the weight of two
Russian UAZ Jeeps would send it and them crashing into the jui (a canal for irrigation
or water for a mill) below. The jui is pretty deep there. It carries all of the water
coming from the river into town.”
    â€œIt’s a good plan. It’s also one we can actually do, and it gives us a good chance
of staying safe and of getting their weapons. They will be carrying small arms, probably
grenades, and likely machine guns, all with lots of ammunition. Let’s get on with
the details.” Askgar was enthusiastic about the plan.
    They trotted outside Sharidure to the bridge and slid under it to figure out how
to weaken it. One of them wondered how to not drop a truck or bus if it came over
before the jeeps. Another suggested that they could dig out all of the support except
for the final timber. That way they could wait to pull it out when the jeeps arrived.
Someone would sit up high to signal the others to remove the last support. “But we
can’t risk calling or firing a rifle because someone might hear it. I wish we had
a radio.”
    Ali volunteered a solution for the signal. “I could be the one to signal. I have
my slingshot and could fire a stone down to you. It would make no noise. I can hit
the bank just beside the bridge.”
    The men looked at this kid, this son of Hassan, with new respect. It was a good way.
Ali climbed the hill overlooking the bridge and canal, while the others went to work
removing all of the supports but one. They attached a rope to it, to yank it out
when the Russians approached.
    Thankfully, no traffic came during the night so they were able to remove the supports
(except for one), and no one disturbed them. They attached the rope and crept around
the corner, waiting for the signal from Ali to remove the last support. Ali waited
on the hill, fighting sleep, nervous, and sweating. He never tried anything like
this before. He wasn’t afraid, but kept trying in his mind to think what would happen
next. He thought he couldn’t stay in Sharidure. He knew the way to Jungal, the next
town west, and thought he could hitch a ride on a truck. He wanted to stay, at his
home, his only ever home. He also wanted to obey his parents. He had been taught
that, all through his young life. He trusted his parents, and knew it must be awful
for them to send away their son. He thought about his sister, who also was suspected
of teaching at a secret school. She would be watched, but he hoped that even this
new invading group would not long watch and suspect a woman. She would be spared
and be able to stay in her home. He even dared to hope that by his leaving, suspicion
would fall heavier on him and so lessen the attention on his sister. All of this
was whirling in his mind, as he waited in the dark.
    The sound of engines startled him to the now, to the job at hand. He had earlier
selected several stones, big enough to split the air and smooth enough to stay true
to his aim. He raised up a little, enough