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  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  “I wasn’t sleeping. Until a while ago we were all up, worried about you, wondering where you were.” Ebi turned on his side to face me. “Did he hurt you again?”

  My hand went to my neck. “Mostly he tried to scare me.” I stared at the ceiling for a minute without saying anything. “I guess he did scare me.”

  On my other side Jaafer mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over. I turned to face Ebi so I could whisper and not be heard.

  “Ebi, I think we need to get out of here. I think Abass is crazy—at least when he’s around me—and I think he might really kill me. Remember the small guard I pointed out the other day, Majid? He’s the one who let me out. He says Abass has killed before. He’s worried. We need to go—soon.”

  “Rez, what are you thinking? There’s no way out of here.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it.” I put my mouth close to Ebi’s ear. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but Majid is usually responsible for taking the garbage out, and we sometimes help him. We could get Omid or Salar to do something to distract the guards in the yard. Then we could hide in the truck and jump off as far from here as we can. It’d be the next meal before they knew we were missing.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. We find our way to Baghdad.”

  I could just make out Ebi glaring at me in the gloom. “I don’t know, Rez. What would happen in Baghdad? We don’t really speak the language. We can’t get jobs. We might not ever make it home.”

  “Come on. We can go to the Red Crescent office. If we get out tomorrow, we might be in time to see Miles, and he can set us up with someone.”

  Ebi’s eyes widened. “You’re thinking of going with Miles, aren’t you?”

  “No,” I said quickly, but the minute he said it, I realized I had been thinking just that. “Come on, Ebi. It’ll finally be the adventure you wanted.”

  Ebi looked back at me, and in the dim glow that came from the outside lights, I could see tears in my friend’s eyes.

  “I just got here, Rez. It’s a better place than where I came from. I just want to stay here until I go home. We’ll keep you away from Abass. If we stay with you all the time, he can’t get to you.”

  I felt a spark of rage. My old friend Ebi would have been pulling me out the door. But war had taken my old friend and left me this shell. Still, shell or not, I wasn’t leaving without him.

  “All right. But I’m holding you to that, understand?”

  Ebi grabbed my arm with his only hand. “You got it, Maggot.”

  I rolled onto my back. I tried to sleep but everything hurt and I kept feeling the point of Abass’s knife at my throat.

  I must have drifted off, because I woke to my friends yelling my name.

  “Reza,” said Jaafer, grabbing my shoulder. “When did you get back? What happened to you?”

  Omid put a finger to my neck. “Man! Did Abass do this? Are you okay?”

  As we headed out I retold the story, vowing to stay far away from Abass.

  When I walked into the cafeteria, I saw Abass glowering at me from across the room. Majid had said he wasn’t supposed to be here until this afternoon, but here he was. I felt like I could smell him from across the room. He didn’t look happy. His eyes looked bloodshot even from a distance.

  We spooned the watery cereal into bowls. Abass waited less than sixty seconds before he crossed to our table. We all froze as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “Well, well. I wonder who let you out of your fine accommodations last night. No one seems to know, but I’ll find out.” I winced as Abass leaned down. “I control you, boy. I control you all, but you”—he slapped me on the back of my head, hard—“I might just need to make an example of you. Remember what I told you.”

  He picked up my bowl and walked away.

  Salar slammed a fist into his other hand. “Reza, he is scary. What’s he talking about—an example?”

  “Nothing. He’s just trying to scare me.” It was working, but if Ebi and I weren’t going to make a run for it, I didn’t want everyone as freaked out as I was.

  “That wasn’t nothing, Reza.” Omid pushed his bowl away. “What did he say?”

  My hand moved to my neck. I quickly placed it palm down on the table. “When he cut me, he said he wasn’t ready to kill me quite yet.”

  “Ape,” said Salar and Jaafer at the same time.

  “Quiet, you guys.” I wheeled around to see where Abass was. If he’d heard them, we’d all be in solitary.

  “Reza, he really has it out for you, maybe because he knows Miles liked you.” Omid looked over his shoulder in the direction Abass had gone. “Whatever, it’s not good, chump. Maybe we should find a way to hide you. Or even better, get you out of here.”

  I glanced at Ebi, then shrugged. “It’s okay. I need to be really careful, that’s all.”

  “But if he’s serious, we may not be able to protect you,” whispered Salar. “I think Omid’s right. We need to find a way to help you escape. Get you to the Red Crescent in Baghdad or something. I wish Miles was still here.”

  “Come on, guys. It’s okay. I’ll—”

  Ebi spoke for the first time all morning, interrupting. “Reza has a plan. He thinks he can stow away on the garbage truck next time he helps load. Then when he’s out of camp, he’ll jump off and make a run for it. All it would take is for someone to cause a distraction so the guards wouldn’t notice anyone missing.”

  I didn’t like the way Ebi was talking about me stowing away; he didn’t say “we” at all.

  “That might just work,” said Omid.

  “I don’t know.” I looked around to make sure no one could hear. “Seems risky, and if I fail, then Abass would have reason to have my head.”

  Ebi looked straight at me. “Reza liked the plan last night, but he wanted me to go with him and I said no. So suddenly the plan is no good.”

  The boys all looked at me expectantly. I looked back at them and then down at my hands. “I waited a long time for the little cockroach to catch up with me. I’m not leaving him behind now.”

  Ebi let out a rusty laugh. “All right, Maggot. I’ll go with you. If you stay here because of me and get yourself killed by that bastard, there’ll be no living with these guys.”

  Everyone talked at once. I caught Ebi’s eye. I saw fear and resignation and a shard of the Ebi I thought I’d lost.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  In the yard, we took a ball and went to a deserted corner. As we passed the ball back and forth at short range, we worked out every permutation of the plan. Majid arrived for his shift. He barely looked in our direction.

  “Are you ready to go right away if we can make it happen?” asked Salar.

  “I guess,” I said. “We might lose our nerve if we wait around.”

  Ebi nodded.

  The thought of Miles’s plane drummed its fingers on the back of my brain.

  “But what about you guys?” I felt stupid for not thinking of this before. “What if they find out you knew?”

  “They won’t find out,” said Salar. “We’ll tell them ever since Ebi got here, you two had been keeping secrets.”

  “Don’t worry, chump,” said Omid. “We dealt with Abass and his crew before you got here; we’ll deal with him until we leave.”

  “But what if—”

  “Shut up and stop worrying,” said Farhad. I thought about how much I’d miss these guys.

  Jaafer disappeared and came back a few minutes later with a piece of paper and a pencil hidden in his hand. “I wrote my address here.” He passed it to Salar. “When things get back to normal, find us. We’ll all meet in Tehran. We’ll have a real party.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Salar as he wrote on the paper. “You’ll buy dinner, Reza.”

  Minutes after Omid had scribbled down his information and handed it to me, Majid and a younger guard came out of the classroom building dragging several trash c
ans. My heart leaped. It was time to go.

  “Do I look casual now?” I cuffed Ebi on the shoulder. “Come on, Ebi. We’ll go and nonchalantly offer to help and not let on that we’re nervous as rats in a cage.”

  “Right behind you, Maggot.”

  In turn I looked at my friends—Omid, Salar, Farhad, and Jaafer, my mate from the beginning. “If this works, I’ll buy you all the finest meal you could ever imagine.”

  “Holding you to it,” said Jaafer over his shoulder as he followed the others to the far side of the yard.

  Approaching Majid, I reached for a trash can. “Could you use some help, sir?”

  “I suppose we could.” He pointed in the direction of a large can twenty yards away. “If you boys bring that can, we will bring these.” As the other guard moved off, Majid quietly said, “I notice he came in this morning. Did you steer clear as I instructed?”

  “I’ve tried, sir, but it isn’t going to be easy.”

  “No,” Majid said, taking his cans and walking toward the gate in the back fence.

  Ebi and I lifted the large can together and followed. I felt every blow Abass had landed. It took all I had not to let on. When we reached the gate, Majid had it open and was bringing the first of his cans through to a waiting truck. The truck bed was already half-filled with garbage. As we emptied the cans sitting next to the truck, my stomach churned at the thought of crouching in that slop. Ebi’s face was slightly green.

  We helped the other guard lift the final can and then heard the noise we’d been waiting for. Yells and screaming broke out in the yard. Both guards whipped around and headed toward the disturbance.

  This was it. I hauled myself into the truck, cleared a hiding place for us, and grabbed for Ebi’s hand.

  Ebi took it but didn’t jump up. “Look, Rez, this is going to work better if I cover for you. I’m sorry, I can’t leave. Go. Stay alive and come find me at home. May God watch over you.”

  Ebi let go and was gone before I knew what to do. I started to get up, to follow my friend back into the camp, but Ebi, already a few paces from the truck, turned and shook his head. His lips formed the word “go,” and he ran to meet up with the two guards, who were on their way back with one more can.

  “What’s going on?” asked Ebi, his voice a little louder than necessary.

  “Looks like a fight,” said the younger guard. “The other guards have it under control. Not surprising that hothead Pasha’s there in the middle of it. All you need to do is say a cross word to that one and he’s likely to deck you.”

  Majid pulled out the truck keys.

  The younger guard said, “Hey, where’s that other kid? The one who was helping you?”

  “Didn’t you see him?” asked Ebi. “He ran to the fight as soon as we heard it. He’s always fighting with Pasha.”

  “He did?” The guard looked at the truck, where he couldn’t see me behind the stinking piles, then back to the mass of yellow-suited boys on the other side of the yard. “I didn’t see him go. Did you, Majid?”

  Majid quickly looked at the truck and down at Ebi, then back at the truck again. I held my breath. Would he give me away?

  “What?” Majid said stiffly. “Oh, yes, I saw him. He’s a bit of a hothead, too, isn’t he? Here, give me that last can. I’ll have a talk with him when I get back from garbage duty.”

  I heard footsteps coming toward the truck, and the heavy tailgate slammed shut.

  As Majid hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, I thought maybe I could still jump out, go back to camp, go back to Ebi, and pretend … pretend what? Nothing. I’d made the leap and I couldn’t go back. I’d found Ebi and now he was gone again. I sank back down in the muck and put my head in my hands.

  The truck started up and lurched forward. I tried to hold back my tears, but as the rumble of the truck grew louder, I cried almost as if I wanted to be heard. I sat among the rotting vegetables and flies and sobbed. I thought I would cry all the way to Baghdad if Majid kept on driving, but in less than ten minutes the truck veered to the side of the road.

  Majid came running to the back of the truck. He called softly, “Reza. Reza, are you there?”

  Wiping my eyes with my dirty sleeve, I crept out. “I’m sorry, Majid. I—”

  “No apologies. You did what you had to do, but we don’t have much time. Follow me.” We’d reached the outskirts of a town and had pulled up parallel to a short alley. I jumped off the truck and followed Majid toward an old brick building. “I’m guessing they’ll send someone to meet me at the dump to search the truck. It must look like I came straight away with no detours. I’ll hide you here and come back to get you later.”

  “Majid, you don’t have to do this. Just don’t report me and I’ll find my way.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, boy. They’ll have the word out all over the region. Boys don’t escape from our camps. At least that’s what they like to say.”

  “You mean others have escaped—”

  “No time.” He cut me off. “Come along now.”

  Majid opened a door and motioned me in. “This is my brother’s apartment building. If you stay here in the storage room, you should be safe. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can. But remember—stay right here, hidden. If anyone sees you in that yellow suit—or smells you—you’ll be at Abass’s feet within the hour.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Majid was gone. I stood in the semidarkness, dazed. It was the first time in over a year I’d been anywhere but the hospital or the camp. I was in a room full of the things people didn’t keep in their apartments. The sight of a couple of bicycles and some stacked wooden chairs cheered me in an odd way. They were so normal and so extraordinary at the same time.

  I sat on the floor and tried not to think about what I’d done. Tried not to think about Ebi. I held an old newspaper up to the half light. It dated from 1976, before the revolution. Ancient history. I leaned back and closed my eyes. What was Miles doing now? What was happening with Jaafer and Ebi and the others? Even though they said they weren’t worried, I was so afraid they’d be in trouble because of me.

  I occupied my mind trying to remember all the songs I’d learned from Miles and Uncle. After listening to the sounds in the building, I drifted off.

  Suddenly I heard voices outside. I couldn’t follow the conversation—it was in Arabic—but it was right outside the door. Creeping farther into the shadows, I picked up an old pipe and held it above my head. Before too long the people talking went their separate ways, wishing each other well. It took me a few more minutes to relax enough to lower the pipe.

  The places where Abass had hit me were still stiff, and I was starving. The soup Majid had given me was a distant memory, and Abass had taken my breakfast.

  A kaleidoscope of emotions hit me. I had escaped but had no idea where I was or what my next move would be. Majid had said he’d be back as soon as he could, but did that mean today? Every hour that passed I thought about my friends back at the camp, willing myself not to wish I were back with them.

  The hungrier I got, the harder it was to stop myself from wondering if I’d ever see any of them again. Especially Ebi. How could I have spent all those months trying to find him, just to leave him again? I made myself stand up and move, trying to shake these thoughts out of my head. I didn’t leave him—he left me.

  I needed food badly. Maybe I could sneak out and find some food nearby. I opened the door a millimeter, but through the slit I could see enough to know that it was not possible. I had no money, and I was wearing a bright yellow uniform that was basically a neon sign declaring ESCAPED PRISONER.

  I looked back into the room. Maybe someone had some food stored here. Floor-to-ceiling shelves next to the door seemed like a good place to start. I searched methodically from shelf to shelf. I found boxes of nails, old newspapers and books, a space heater that was falling apart, and a dozen other things that were not nor had ever been food.

  It took me ages to go through every shelf and b
ox in the room. I almost gagged from the moldy smell. But just before giving up, I found a round tin that had once been full of nuts. The eight cashews still inside were stale, but I ate them anyway.

  I was running my finger along the bottom of the tin when, off in the distance, I heard the call to prayer. Unlike the tinny microphone I’d heard in the camp, this sounded like home. I looked around the room in confusion. What time was it? How long had I slept? Was this the noon prayer? No, the light was slanting in from the one high window. It must be late afternoon. I took a piece of cardboard, spread it on the dirt floor, and knelt down to pray.

  I fell into the familiar chant like it was my old bed at home—somewhere I felt warm and comfortable. Somewhere I could rest. Somewhere I could be in this moment and put that heavy box labeled UNKNOWN FUTURE aside for a minute. After prayers were over I sat in that calm and watched the room grow dark. I tried not to think. By the next call to prayer the room was almost completely dark. A glimmer from a flickering streetlight let me see shapes around me but nothing more.

  As the last Come to prayer! Come to prayer! drifted through the town, I knelt on the cardboard and fell into the rhythm again. When I was finished I lay on my side, adjusted my bruised ribs away from the hard floor, and was asleep before I curled my arms under my head.

  Sometime later a truck clattered by on the street outside. I stood up before I was really awake. It was freezing. Every muscle was stiff; every injury was sore. The calm from my prayers had faded. I paced. I opened the door a crack. I paced some more and then took a few steps outside. I wondered whether I should leave now, while it was dark and the streets were empty. I might have a better chance of finding some other clothes. I went a little farther into the street. I looked left and right. Then I heard another truck around the corner and had just enough time to jump back into my hideout.

  My heart beat like a bass drum during a long solo. I stood stock-still and listened while another truck went by. I realized it must be early morning and I’d missed any chance I might have had to leave. What if something had happened to Majid? Maybe he was in trouble for helping me. Maybe they were all in trouble because of my stupid scheme, and here I was, no closer to being safe than when Abass beat me.