Afghanistan with Love

PROLOGUE

T he official name of the mountain was Lor Koh. The natives called it Sharafat Koh (Honor Mountain). The natives knew it as a refuge from pursuing enemies. Their enemies knew that once they got to these mountains, not only did it become difficult to hunt them out, they actually went on the offensive. The mountain was like a protective mother who allowed her children hide behind her skirts.

But when the enemies became brothers fighting against brothers, who then should the Mountain Mother protect? Hiding amongst the peaks and crags, they launched offensives against one another, committed atrocities against one another, and even against the mountain herself. They endured, they survived, and they avenged. Finally, the Taliban stepped in to restore some sort of order. They tried to unite the people by something they had in common, their religion. Who could argue against God? Let us live according to the dictates of God they said. Let us precisely follow the Holy Book!

It seemed to work for some time but then things began to happen. The saviors became the oppressors. The peacemakers became the perpetrators of injustice. Other oppressive elements from all over the world came to shelter among the oppressive oppressors because all seemed lawless. They felt they could more easily hide their evil. Things escalated until the attention of outsiders was drawn again. Some American marines were sent to investigate. Only look, observe, and see but try not to be seen yourselves they were told. Do nothing at all, unless it is extremely unavoidable.

And so in 1998 four of them, young officers in their mid-twenties, found themselves among the crags of Lor Koh. The mountain did not do anything to them. Maybe the mountain knew they had no bad intentions towards her children. She was actually protective of them and hid them well while they tried to carry out their mission. From the mountain they watched beautiful sunrises, spectacular sunsets, and breathed fresh air, free from pollution. One evening, they found themselves near a hollow under some rocks. It was a natural cave with another rock standing right in front of it. It was a good hiding place. They decided it was also a good place to bivouac. They set up a scope to scout out the land, and took turns keeping watch. The night was quiet and uneventful.

Alex was on the last watch. He was handsome and tall with a noble head of blond curls, piercing blue eyes over a hawkish nose, and a heart full of adventure. He was looking forward to the beautiful wash of colors that painted the sky as the sun rose. Suddenly he felt the ground shaking with the pounding of hooves. He sat up. He felt his colleagues come alert at the same moment. On top of the mountain to their right came a figure on a horse riding very hard towards them. Just before it reached their hiding place, the horse veered to the left and kept going. By the beardless face, and the mass of reddish brown hair flying behind like a defiant banner, they deduced that the rider was probably a woman.

About six horsemen rode in pursuit hard at her heels. Although she was very fast, they were not making real efforts to gain on her. The Americans watching from their hiding place willed her to move faster and outstrip them. Suddenly she literally flew off the horse and landed a few feet below them. She lay there immobile. She was probably stunned, unconscious, or even dead. The horse righted its gait and went a bit further before stopping. It was a well-known trick. There must have been a nearly invisible rope stretched across the path which the rider had not seen. No wonder her pursuers were not making more serious efforts to catch up with her. They knew they could pick her up easily after she fell.

As the Americans continued to watch, the horsemen came up and surrounded her. They came down from their own horses and just sat around until she groaned and started coming to. She looked very young and had defiant, flashing green eyes. She must have known what was in stock for her but her immediate reaction was anger at her tormentors. She was probably also angry at herself for having fallen to their trick. The Americans could not understand the words the men were saying to her but they could well imagine what they were. She stared at them defiantly and challengingly. She was not verbally replying to their taunts and threats but her expressions were eloquent. There was no visible display of her fears even though she was very obviously outnumbered.

The tormenting riders moved about resolutely. They tied her hands and feet together, and were getting ready for whatever they had in mind for her. Alex could no longer bear the injustice of it all. He took a step forward and his commander shook his head almost imperceptibly. Alex either did not see, or chose not to heed this restraining gesture. He ran a short distance up the hill, towards the direction the girl and her pursuers had come from. Crooking his arm in the habit of one well practiced in playing baseball, he tossed a grenade as far as it would go. He then hurried back into the hollow a little less than a minute before the grenade exploded. The noise was magnified in the early morning quiet by the mountain echoes.

Immediately the men tormenting the girl froze for a moment and listened. They dived for cover under the spare bushes. Cautiously, they began to crawl towards the distracting explosion, neglecting their prisoner. They were apparently also confident in the bonds which now held her hands and feet. As soon as they left, Alex was beside her in one bound. He cut her bonds with two slashes of his army issue knife, rubbing her ankles and wrists briefly to help the return of circulation. He spoke as he worked. Now Princess, you probably don’t understand a word I’m saying but this is your lucky day. I don’t know who you are but I hope for God’s sake you know what to do. Try very hard not to mention anything about us in return for this favor. Now make good use of your chances and run for your life. Good luck!

As soon as she got up, she flashed him one green eyed look and then peered closely at his name tag. To his astonishment she said with a sweet and low musical voice, Thanks Mr. Pearson. I understand you perfectly, and I owe you my life. I hope I shall return the favor one day.

Alex turned towards their hiding place but his company was already moving across the mountain, ninety degrees to where the drama had just taken place. They crossed to the opposite side of their former hiding place, found another hollow behind some dwarf shrubs and set up their scope again. What on earth… Alex exclaimed when he looked through the scope.

The other men nudged him out of place so they too could take a look. They reacted with emotions ranging from bemusement to amusement. The girl whom Alex had just risked their cover to liberate had not bounded away as he had told her to, and as was plainly the logical thing to do. She was calmly rounding up the horses of the men who had been pursuing her. She tied them one to another. When she was good and done, she mounted the lead horse. Before she turned and canted off with all the horses, she first turned and childishly thumbed her nose at her returning pursuers.

A very strategic planner with an astute mind remarked the American squad leader with genuine admiration. She has accomplished several things including covering up your tracks, Alex. By letting her captors see her get away, they will not have to search the area closely, and accidentally discover our presence. By taking their horses, they must either pursue her on foot or go back for fresh horses. They do not know if she has accomplices so they dare not fire at her and draw attention to their position. She will be a formidable opponent in war. Afghan women usually are. That girl is someone I would really love as an ally, and hate as an opponent in battle.

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

T he week started normally enough for Greta, Laura, and Lil. They had truncated their lessons with Ayesha because they felt they were quite proficient in their language and culture studies. Besides, they had quite a busy week ahead. They hurried through their office work on Monday morning. By the time their UNESCO driver arrived they were all packed, and ready to go. They each threw their light travelling bags into the back, and piled into the middle seat of the truck. The bed of the truck held supplies which would be dropped off at schools along the way. Laura got in and sat directly behind the driver with Lil next to her. Greta hurried to give the key of their apartment to Ayesha calling out, See you on Thursday. She got in from the other side and slammed the door. Lil was sandwiched between Greta and Laura. This was their usual sitting arrangement when all three were travelling together. The driver sat alone in front. His own travel supplies, important papers, and documents rode shotgun.

The major road in Afghanistan was Highway 1, also known as The Ring Road. This road almost circles Afghanistan, starting from Mazar-il-Sharif in the north, through Kabul to Ghozni, coming down south, through Qandahar in the southeast and going northwest to Farah and Herat. Major extensions ran off it to major cities like Jalalabad, Lashkar Gah, Delaram, and so on. As part of their contribution towards the efforts of rebuilding war torn Afghanistan, the Indian Government had undertaken to rebuild the international road extending from Delaram to Zaranj. The Taliban said this was a ploy to re-establish the old silk and spice road which had in time past been used to drain the ores and other natural resources found in Afghanistan. Consequently, they kept trying to upstage the project. In truth, the road opened up the landlocked country for international trade in that region. It also created a shortcut to the Iranian town of Zabol, and to the Persian Gulf port of Chabahar. This effectively cut off the more treacherous route through Pakistan. Despite several bombings and the wanton loss of human lives the construction went on.

Road travel in Afghanistan could be a nightmare. With decades of warfare, landmines, time, and erosion, roads which had once been tolerable were now rutted due to non-maintenance. As long as one stayed on the major highways, the trip itself could be safe and enjoyable. Once off the highways though, the roads became narrow, full of ruts, and sometimes nonexistent. A road trip then became a nightmare. The trick was to stay on the highway for as long as possible and turn in at a spot closest to where one was going. This was the formula the UNESCO drivers had always followed.

The second reason for the treachery on the highways of Afghanistan was the presence of bandits, and sometimes the militia. There were roadblocks every few miles. Some of these were manned by the International Security Assistance Force – ISAF. ISAF was a coalition in which the allied forces were training the newly revamped Afghan police force. Some roadblocks were by the allied forces themselves. Some were by the local vigilante of that particular village or hamlet. Some roadblocks were mounted by ordinary bandits, and some by the Taliban. If the men were in uniform, the likelihood would be that the roadblock was somehow legitimate, and at least relatively safe. Non-uniformed people might be the local vigilante but more often than not were bandits or the Taliban.

So far, Greta, Laura, and Lil had come across several roadblocks but were yet to come across an unsafe one. Their various drivers usually told them things like Three of you must have very lucky streaks. You have not come across even one unfriendly roadblock. It is also evidence that our country is getting better. Before now, it would have been a daily or at least a weekly occurrence.

The only complaint the ladies had about roadblocks was that it rather delayed their progress and messed up their time schedules. On this trip, they had in mind to visit villages within three districts in the Nimruz province. Starting from Khash Rod, they hoped to pass westwards to Chakhansur, turn southwards to Chahar Burja, and then make their leisurely way back to Lashkar Gah. Everything went well. They inspected fledgling schools, delivered packages to needy schools, held shura to persuade some villages and hamlets to let them help by setting up schools, renovating schools, or enrolling their children, especially the girls in schools. They generally felt they had made a good outing. By two o’clock on Wednesday afternoon they had visited everywhere they intended to, and done everything they had set out to do.

You know, if we set out now, we could be home before it is too late tonight Greta said.

Oh yes, and then we could add another chapter to our experience to reflect night travel in Afghanistan Lil said. If any tragedy should befall us on the way, people will only remember and talk about how foolhardy we were.

Do you know, from where we are now, if we hit the Zaranj-Delaram road we could actually get to Farah long before it is dark. We could get there much earlier than we would have reached Lashkar Gah Laura commented.

And then tomorrow we will take the long route home? Lil asked.

It would probably be longer in terms of distance, but the journey will be smoother and faster because we would be driving on Highway 1 practically all the way Laura answered with a wistful look.

I told you that girl is in love. Don’t for one moment assume she has no ulterior motive for wanting to go to Farah Greta said.

Anyway that is totally out of the question. We are expected at Kadesh tonight. Our hosts would worry if we don’t show up on time Lil concluded.

In the early afternoon, the air was hot and oppressive except for air current generated by the movement of the truck. They rolled down their windows partway. The desired air current proceeded to immediately whip off their scarves and scatter their hair but they did not mind it a bit. They sat back to enjoy the rest of the day with the pleasant satisfaction of great accomplishment. For some time there was silence as they watched the scenery sliding past them. This part of Afghanistan was very easy on the eyes. They passed fields of wheat as often as they passed poppy fields, broken infrequently, and at long intervals by lone houses or hamlets.

In Afghan villages, people generally lived communally in compounds. A compound would be made up of several rooms around a central courtyard. There would be another inner courtyard at the back, secluded from visitors. Women did their cooking and other womanly chores together in this inner courtyard. A compound would house several generations of a family, related by birth or marriage, and ruled over by the oldest person alive. They remarked again on how Afghan culture resembled what they had in the west in the distant past, but differed from their modern culture of individual isolation. There are undoubtedly lots of merits in this kind of communal living Lil said. However, as much as I greatly admire my mother-in-law to-be, I cannot imagine her having an eye on my daily affairs or looking closely into what I do with her son. Having Bjorn move in with my family would probably be worse. It would wear all our nerves out in no time.

Greta and Laura agreed, although Laura now had no family to speak of. If she had, she would rather have them nearby, visiting occasionally like Katie’s, not living right under the same roof, all the time. I would prefer for them to be living very far away, in another city or preferably another continent Greta said. I know that every man eventually longs for his mother. If I ever decide to get married, I’ll make sure I have no in-laws alive!

Their driver, Aziz who was usually quite reticent, joined the discussion. He pointed out the advantages of this kind of arrangement. Do you know how much money could be spared from such an arrangement? All the money made could come back into the family instead of going into paying rents to an outsider. Tradition, culture, and respect for elders would be transmitted directly from the older generation to the growing one. It will bypass the middle generation which is always so busy and muddled up anyway. Think also of the security. You will know your youngsters are always safe at home, being cared for by older adults who have their best interests at heart! I could go on.

Aziz lamented the fact that urbanization had broken down this system to a large extent so that urban dwellers had lost a lot of these advantages.

The discussion was getting interesting when Aziz suddenly let out an expletive which was totally uncharacteristic of him. What? asked Greta.

What is it? asked Laura.

What’s happening? asked Lil.

They peered through the windshield.

The reason for the driver’s distress was apparent. There, up ahead, was a roadblock. The barricade was almost total. It was formed with a tree trunk and other rubbles. The men minding the roadblock were not in any form of uniform! All the ones they could see, and they counted up to six, were toting machine guns. Their hair and faces were hidden in kaffiyeh (scarves). That alone meant trouble. On either side of the road were cultivated fields with tall plants waving in the afternoon breeze. The plants were high enough to hide any number of people. It would not be very wise to make a run for it even if they could. The last hamlet they passed was some distance back. No other vehicle seemed to be on that particular stretch of road at the moment. Maybe nemesis had finally caught up with them.

Greta tried to wind up the glass on her side but Aziz stopped her with a word as he came slowly to a stop at the barricade, engine still running. Try not to appear menacing. This is the time to look as helpless as possible. We will throw ourselves at their mercies, he said from the corner of his mouth. And then he added Please adjust your veils.

They had already automatically adjusted their veils even before the truck began to slow down. Two of the men approached. Aziz greeted them, "Salaam Alekheim." They did not bother to return the greeting. The taller of the two bent down and looked into the truck as if doing a head count. He straightened up, beckoned to two other men who approached the vehicle from inside the fields. Laura noted that it was a good thing they had not decided to make a run for it into the fields. Who knew how many more people were hiding there. The second set of men had their own guns slung to their backs. When they came nearer Laura saw they had some sort of black devices in their hands. They did something funny with their wrists, and Laura felt a sting at the side of her neck. As she raised her hand to rub the spot, she saw that Greta and Lil were mirroring her movements. For that matter, so was the driver. Before she could ponder this clearly she felt her head go woozy. The front seat floated up towards her, or was she floating above the ceiling of the truck? That was the last thought she had before her vision blacked out and she became unconscious.

The tall man moved the unconscious form of the driver over to the passenger’s side and slid into the driver’s seat himself. He drove off down the road in the same direction the UNESCO party had been travelling. Even as he approached, other men began to totally dismantle the barricade. In a few short minutes nobody would have guessed that anything happened there. Everyone else then melted away into the fields.

The tall man drove the UNESCO truck a few miles down the road and then veered off into the first turn on the left. Two other trucks were waiting there with their drivers. Together two men unceremoniously transferred the women to the bed of the second truck, and covered the bed with a tarp, effectively hiding them from sight. They carried poor Aziz into the poppy farm at the side of the road and dumped him in a hollow, well hidden from the road.

Getting back to the UNESCO truck again, they proceeded to strip it of anything which could be moved including the women’s and the driver’s personal effects, documents, the satellite radios, leftover educational packages, the car rugs, carpets, the spare tire, the tool kit, and every other movable object. They opened the bonnet, removed the battery, distribution cable, the fuse box, and a few other things. Last of all, they moved some roughly even stones under the truck. Jacking it up, they removed all the tires and their rims. These men were obviously very knowledgeable about these things. They were very competent, organized, and efficient. In about twenty minutes they were done. Anyone wanting to move that vehicle again would need to do some major refitting first. They piled all the car parts into the second waiting truck. Driving after the one with the women, they drove along the byroad, circled, and came back to the major road the UNESCO team had been travelling, and headed in the opposite direction. They encountered no other vehicles.

The operation had taken about thirty minutes from start to finish. Ironically, it had taken Laura about thirty months to reach this point in time.

THIRTY MONTHS EARLIER

Laura found herself alone in the small house she had shared with her grandmother for over a decade. This was the first time in her memory that she had ever spent New Year’s Eve alone. For as long as she could remember, if she was not at one boisterous party or making the round of parties, she was with friends or family. Even on this very day, if she had wanted, she could have taken advantage of a number of invitations but she had managed to evade them all, even that of her closest friend, Katie; and Katie could be persistent and tenacious when she chose to be. Laura had been adamant that she was indeed not suicidal, and that her choosing to be alone on this festive day had healthy connotations. Even Katie knew when to back off. Okay, I will call you every once in a while to know how you’re doing. Just pick up the phone, ask me how the night is going, and respond to my questions so I’ll be sure I am not dealing with your machine. If you don’t, I’ll have no other choice than to bring the party to you. Believe me, these people know how to do Party, Plus she threatened.

Laura agreed, and Katie had let it drop – for then.

2005 had been a very trying year for Laura. In that year she had lost and mourned for three people, the last remaining member of her family, a potential life mate, and a best friend. She wanted to be alone to take a good hard look at her life. Was there something wrong with her or was she just plain unlucky? She counted her blessings and stacked them against her woes. She was not entirely sure she had anything left over on either side. On the blessing side, she counted the fact that she was alive and healthy; she had a good job and some financial asset, thanks to her grandmother and some shrewd personal investments. She still had some close friends like Katie who cared about how she was coping. She counted herself lucky indeed for those. Some people would also have counted her looks among her assets but Laura was not one to think often about her looks. With her big, beautiful, and expressive, green eyes set in a small oval face, and crowned with beautiful rich reddish brown hair, she was quite a looker. At five and a half feet, she was taller than many women but still managed to look petite and feminine enough to project an air of fragility that made men want to protect her.

On the down side was the fact that even though she had all these good things going, she could find no pleasure at all in them. She felt totally lost and cast adrift. She had received several job offers after her Master’s in Business Administration but she had chosen to stay back in Memphis with her frail and aging grandmother. It was not just a sense of duty and gratitude; it was a seeking after belonging. When she was fifteen years old, her parents had died in a car crash. Laura and her grandmother found themselves totally alone in the whole world. They had formed a bond which they did not have before that event. This bond had grown stronger over the years. Beyond some terrible arthritis, a thyroid problem, and after two strokes she believed her grandmother just hung on to life so that she would not leave Laura utterly alone. At last, after Mike came into her life, she felt her grandmother finally relaxed enough to let go. She was all of ninety-four years old when she finally slipped away one night in her sleep.

The funeral was well attended. Her Nana was loved by many people. Mike was her bulwark then, and Laura believed they would be together for the rest of their lives. A month later, Mike had gone to close a business deal in Los Angeles, promising to pick her up for dinner afterwards. Instead, state troopers came knocking on her door that evening to tell her that Mike would not be coming home. He had been in a freak accident, and had not survived it.

It was like the nightmare following her parents’ death all over again except that this time around, her grandmother was not there to help her get over it. She was not close enough to Mike’s parents and sister for them to share their sorrows together. The only people who cared enough to dig deeper than the surface she showed to everyone were Katie and Allison. Katie lived two doors down the street. She was married with two children and had been friends with Laura since the latter had come to live at Memphis with her grandmother. Allison had been her childhood friend. They had lived close to each other at Buffalo until Laura’s parents died in that terrible motor accident. They had the kind of enduring friendship which even after they had moved apart to different cities, they still got permission to visit each other for the holidays. They had kept in touch until recently when they had become too busy as they each climbed the corporate ladder of their different companies.

Laura had written to inform Allison about her grandmother’s death and Allison had promised to come for the funeral. At almost the last moment, she had telephoned to say she could not make it. She was in the hospital, very ill. Overwhelmed by her own grief, Laura had not enquired into what type of illness was keeping her friend in hospital. Soon after the funeral, Allison’s mother had called Laura to tell her that Allison was even sicker. Could Laura come out to Buffalo to see her?

It was an odd request especially since Laura was the one grieving, and in need of comfort. However, friends are friends. Allison was even more like a sister. Laura had discussed it with Mike, and they agreed they would go out to see her Buffalo family together but then the tragedy of Mike’s accident happened. After the accident, Allison had sent emails but quite unlike her, she did not even so much as make a phone call. In her emails she said she was still too ill to travel. Instead, she begged Laura over and over to come over to see her at Buffalo, stressing that it was really important. Laura read her first few emails dispassionately. She was past feeling angry, betrayed, or bewildered. She felt totally numb inside.

After Mike’s death Laura moved through life in a fog. She did not remember if she ate, slept, or did anything normal. She stopped showing up at the office. One day just blurred into another. If she was a drinking person, she would have taken to alcohol at this time because she had nothing to give her a buzz. She had no idea how long she continued in this way until one day Katie blustered into the house like a hurricane. Katie was like that. She was big, blond, and blustery!

Look at you! Just take a look at yourself. When last did you have a bath? When did you last comb your hair? If you are planning to die, at least try to make a decent corpse. What will your Grandma say? What will Mike think? Get up immediately and get yourself into that bathtub before I bulldoze you out with the garbage!

Katie would brook no arguments. She ran a luxury bath, complete with the works. She had Laura up, bathing, and dressing while she cleaned the house to what she felt was an acceptable degree of decency. She sat in the kitchen, and made Laura eat a real meal for the first time in heaven-knows-how-long. But Katie had a home of her own to also run. However, before she left, she told Laura, You know what you need? You need someone to need you; so I want you to call Allison now. Tell her you are going over to see her tomorrow.

I cannot do that Laura wailed. This is not how things are done, Katie.

What is it you cannot do? asked Katie.

I cannot go to see Allison on such short notice.

Sure you can Katie insisted. That is how friends are meant to visit each other. However, if you think tomorrow is too short a notice, then tell her when you will be going to see her before the end of this week; but you are going to see her, period!

And so before all the good Katie did could be undone, Laura found herself packed and sent off to Buffalo in two days flat. Katie would have gone with her but since she could not she did the next best thing. She called Allison’s mother with what time to expect Laura, drove Laura to the airport, and checked her into the plane to Buffalo.

Katie was right and wrong about visiting Allison being the therapy Laura needed. In her self-pity, Laura had not imagined Allison to be so sick. She was not just sick, she was dying. She had a vicious kind of leukemia. No medical knowledge was helping. The onset had been rapid, and the course unrelenting. They had put her through different forms of chemotherapy protocols, reaching maximum allowable doses that someone could take in a lifetime. She had received total body irradiation and had even gone through bone marrow transplant. Everything they had hit her with gave her only brief periods of respite but no true remission. At the end everybody had become tired of fighting. Her parents clung to each other, grown gaunt through the worry of it all, and not knowing what they wanted anymore. Did they want their only daughter to die and be at rest; or for her to continue to fight for as long as it took? When she met Laura at the airport, Mrs. Pearson fell into her arms sobbing. Their relationship had been more like mother and daughter even before Laura’s parents died, courtesy of the very close friendship between Laura and Allison.

We wanted to spare you this after all you have been through this year but Allison thought you would want to say goodbye Libby Pearson said.

And so Laura felt that Katie was wrong. How could she cope with yet another loss so soon? And yet Katie was also right. As Laura thought about it, it was indeed good that she should have some closure with Allison at least. Her Grandma’s death had been expected but even then, there had been no time for a proper goodbye. Mike’s death had been sudden. She still kept expecting him to come back even though she had seen his dead body cremated. Her parents’ deaths were a totally different kettle of fish. She had nightmares for years after they died.

Yes, she would prefer to say a gradual goodbye. She indulged herself for a few minutes of weeping with the older Pearsons, and then found herself taking charge. The human mind and body is elastic, and so full of surprises. Even when it seems nothing could be squeezed out of it anymore, hidden sources of strength that were never known to exist would suddenly come to the fore. From the moment Laura straightened herself and walked into Allison’s hospital room, she was like a totally transformed person. The sweet girl she had known had all but vanished. As tall, and as slender as Laura, what was now left of her were huge watery grey eyes in a very pinched face. She had grown thin and gaunt. All her muscles were wasted, and her skin stretched tight over her bony frame. Chemotherapy had taken all her hair but when she volunteered a tired smile, Laura could still see the spirit of her friend behind that smile.

Allison watched her face closely to know her reactions. I already wept with your parents outside Laura told her. My mind tells me my tears are not what you want now. Quick, time is short. What can we accomplish with these remaining days?

And just like that, Allison seemed to get better. She rallied well enough to be discharged from the hospital yet again. The two friends insisted on staying in the same room just like at other times. They spent hours reminiscing about the old days, planning Laura’s future, and finding a lot to still laugh about. Allison made Laura promise to have lots of children including at least two daughters. You must name the first one Allison she said. That way, you get to scold me by proxy as much as you like.

Those were the good days when Allison could stay awake for a few hours at a time and they would talk, plan, or play. There were the bad days also when she would be in very severe pains. Laura then soothed her with medications, massages, or compresses – whatever worked best at the time. She was glad for her small financial independence and not having to worry about losing her job or staying for too long. Her presence in the house also spared the older Pearsons the trouble of having to engage a nurse or a care aide. It also helped them get out once in a while to relieve their own sorrows knowing their daughter was with someone who loved her very dearly.

Laura learnt to care for Allison in every way including administering her medications and taking care of her bodily needs. It took her mind totally off her own sadness. She phoned Katie to say she did not know when she would be back. She asked Katie to please look into her house once in a while and let her know if there was anything which needed her urgent attention. She let her utility providers and her office know she was on an indefinite vacation; and devoted her entire energy to caring for Allison.

One morning, Allison said to her, Guess who is coming today.

I already know your dad is going to pick Alex up from the airport this afternoon Laura replied.

You spoilsport! Allison pouted playfully and then asked, Are you still in love with him? You had this giant crush on him in tenth grade.

Now we are all grown up and have different interests Laura said, avoiding a direct answer.

The truth was that somewhere in the deep recesses of her heart, Laura still had feelings for Allison’s big brother. He had always seen Laura as a little sister, nothing more. He treated her with affection, and teased her a lot. He was in the Marine