Long Road Home a breakfast serials story

Reprinted by permission of Breakfast Serials, Inc. www.breakfastserials.com Written by Katherine Paterson © 2005 Illustrated by Emily Arnold Mccully © 2005 with help from the Haxhiu family: Muhamet, Safeta, Elez, Yllka, Almedina, and Aridon

STORY SO FAR: When Meli can’t find her brother to walk home with her after school, she’s sure he ran home to tattle on her for being kept after school for drawing a caricature of the teacher. But when she gets home, he’s not there.

CHAPTER THREE Mehmet Is Missing

“Where’s Mehmet?” Papa asked. “Why isn’t he with you?”

I began to cry. “Mr. Uka made me and Zara stay after. I—I thought Mehmet had come straight home.”

Ordinarily Papa would have been upset that I had been punished at school. Now he didn’t seem to notice. “I told Mehmet to come straight home. I had work for him in the store.” Papa began to pace in the street, then stopped himself. “Come inside. It won’t do for us to talk in the street.”

There were no customers in the store. Still, Papa led me to the back and kept looking over my shoulder to see if anyone was coming in while he talked. I’d never seen my papa fearful before, and it scared me. “What did he say to you?” he asked. “Was he running off to play football again?”

“No. I think he was angry with me because I misbehaved and Mr. Uka was making me stay late. I thought he had come straight home.”

“Tell Mama to come down here, but don’t scare the little ones.”

“Do you think something has happened to Mehmet?” Sometimes Albanian men just disappeared, but Mehmet was only thirteen. Surely the—

“Just get your mother. You watch the little ones.”

The boys were playing war in the back garden, as usual. Vlora was in the kitchen with Mama, who looked up, startled. “Meli?”

“Papa needs you downstairs for a minute. Come on, Vlora, let’s finish making supper for Mama, all right?”

After a long time Mama came back upstairs. Anxiety was etched into her face. “Papa’s going round to Neshim’s. The two of them probably got into a football game and forgot the time.” She pushed a strand of hair off my forehead and whispered, “Try not to worry.”

How could I not worry? We lived in a country where people disappeared without a trace. Men, mostly—men who were suspected of KLA connections. But for all his posturing, my brother Mehmet was only a boy. Surely not even a Serb policeman would think—but who knew how those people thought?

Mama fed the little ones early. Of course they wanted to know where Papa and Mehmet were, but Mama just said, “Oh, Papa and Mehmet had some errands to run. They’ll eat when they get home.”

How could she stay so calm? My own stomach was churning like a merry-go-round.

Mama put the little ones to bed, and I did my homework and tried to watch TV for a while. But all the propaganda just made me more anxious. I went to the window to watch, and finally I saw a figure emerge from the shadowy street. It was Papa, and he was alone. I could tell by the way he was walking that whatever news he might have wasn’t good. I wanted to run down the steps and meet him, but Mama stopped me. “Wait, Meli, it’s better if we talk inside,” she said.

Papa came up the outside staircase like a man ninety years old. His shoulders sagged, and when he came into the light from the door, his face was gray.

“No word?” Mama asked as she opened the door for him. It was more of a statement than a question.

Papa shook his head, sighing deeply as he did so. Then he fell into a kitchen chair. “Neshim said Mehmet ran on ahead, saying he’d promised me to come straight home. He was angry at Meli. He knew I meant for him to stay and walk with the girls, but he knew, too, that I needed him here.” Papa sighed again. “That’s the last Neshim saw of him, running up the street.”

“What of his other friends? The boys he plays football with? Surely one of them saw him?”

“None of the boys knew anything.” The look that then passed between my parents sent ice through my whole body.

“I’m sure he’s all right,” I said. “He has to be.” The words were hardly out of my mouth before I knew how foolish they sounded.

“Let us hope,” Mama murmured, and then added, “Please eat some supper, Hashim. It’s very late.”

Papa shook his head. “How can I eat when my firstborn is missing and I don’t know how he is to be found?” He jerked to his feet. “We will both be home soon, God willing.”

“Where are you going, Hashim?”

“To the police,” Papa said.

“Not the police.”

“They are the only ones who know where my son is. You know that is true, Sevdie.” He rushed out the door, leaving it open behind him.

“Go with him, Meli,” Mama said. “Perhaps they won’t arrest him if he has his child along.” To Be Continued: Thursday January 30