Free One Child by Jeff Buick Page B

slight wisp of air against his cheek. He saw the rifle butt slamming down on his defenseless hand and cringed as the bones shattered and unimaginable pain coursed through his body. He opened his eyes.
    "I hate what has happened to my country," he said.
    Tabraiz walked to the door and paused, his figure backlit by the bright sun illuminating the street. "Maybe it's time for things to get better. For you and Halima. For Afghanistan." He bowed his head slightly and left.
    Kadir stood, unmoving. It was possible that things were getting better. Tabraiz Khan had come into his life with the promise of a new life for Halima. And for him and his youngest daughters as well. A small house of their own, with money to buy food for months, maybe years. Clean water to drink and warm blankets in the winter. Shoes without holes that kept the water and snow from freezing tiny feet. So many intangibles that might now become realities. The future was opening in front of him with promise and purpose.
    He could only hope.
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Chapter
    25
    Day 14 - 8.09.10 - Morning News
    Kandahar, Afghanistan
    Kadir brushed Halima's hair with a ratty comb that caught on the tangles and jerked her head each time he tried to force it through her thick curls. Finally he gave up and pulled her hair back and tied it with her scarf.
    "Who are we meeting, father?" Halima asked.
    "A man from Peshawar," he answered nervously. "A very important man."
    Halima sensed the apprehension in her father. "Why are we meeting him?"
    Kadir adjusted the scarf, then sat in front of her on a cinder block. His hands were shaking as he touched them to her cheeks. "This man may have an opportunity for you. The kind of opportunity that is very rare. We are most fortunate."
    "What sort of opportunity?"
    Kadir measured his words. He needed Halima on side and eager about the prospect of living in Pakistan. Taking her kicking and screaming to see Tabraiz was impossible. The man would walk out of the meeting and their lives would remain exactly as they were. Desperate.
    "He can get you into a school."
    Halima's eyes widened and she sucked in a sharp breath. She clutched her father's hands and said, "Oh, I do want to go to school. Badly."
    Kadir looked at the dusty floor. "The school is not in Kandahar, Halima."
    Her grip on his hands faltered. She sat back. "Where is it?"
    "Peshawar. It's a city in Pakistan."
    She managed a hint of a smile. "Maybe you can find work. And we can have a house."
    "I won't be coming with you, Halima. Aaqila and Danah and I will be staying in Kandahar."
    She pulled back from him and shook her head. "I don't want to live in Pakistan without you. It's impossible." Tears pooled in her eyes. "How can you watch Aaqila and Danah without me? You can't. And if you have to watch them, you can't work."
    "I'll get by. So will your sisters. This isn't about us, it's about you. This opportunity is for you, Halima." He set his hands on her thin shoulders and lowered his head slightly so he could look directly into her eyes. "You will have a chance to live in a nice house, with a family, and go to school and get an education. Then, when you have finished school, you can come back to Afghanistan and get a job as a teacher or a doctor. And because you have a good job, Aaqila and Danah will be able to attend school. Everything will change, Halima. Everything. You will have a good life. We will have a good life."
    She was crying, tears coursing down her cheeks and spilling onto the front of her embroidered blouse. She had seen her father like this in the past - his mind set and unwavering. She knew it was not possible to change things once he had made his decision. She was listening to him tell her that her life had changed. That her city, her country, her family, were soon to be nothing more than memories. She raised her hand and wiped away the