Boy, Everywhere, page 21
“He must be stressed, man!”
“Yeah … he’s meeting up with the immigration lady and his lawyer again.”
“Wow. That must be hard.”
“Yup …”
Someone rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, Mark walked in, and to my relief we didn’t talk about it anymore.
* * *
We met at six p.m. as planned. Baba didn’t talk to me on the double bus journey back. Aadam slept, his head banging on the back of the seat. I tried to sleep too, but I couldn’t.
When we got to the hostel, we’d been upgraded to the second floor, but it was just the same as in the café really—the same mattresses, the same terrible smell.
As I pulled the sheet around the thin mattress, Baba got up and walked out into the corridor. I raised my head—he was speaking to Mama, who passed him Sara. He hadn’t even looked at me all day. But he was carrying her in his arms like she was a toddler.
I could see tears rolling down Mama’s face as she spoke to Baba, his body hunched over. She looked withered, like a bag of bones. Carrying Sara around everywhere didn’t help. Sara’s eyes were wide and she was shivering, like she was frightened.
I jumped off my mattress to try to help. “Here, let me take Sara, Baba. You need a break,” I said, putting my hands out to take her.
“A break?” He scowled. “Hmmmph,” he added, blowing air out of his nose. “Get out of here—I think you’ve done enough!”
I dropped my arms and stepped back. My chin started wobbling.
“Don’t,” Mama said to Baba, putting a hand on his arm.
“No, he’s got to understand. If he just thought things through.… He’s caused us so much stress!” Baba said, shaking his head at me, his face red with anger, his eyes bulging. “We were safe, and now, because of his immaturity, we’re out on the streets. I can’t look at him!”
I turned away to my mattress, my chest tight, a pain at the back of my throat. Baba was right. It was my fault. ALL OF IT.
If I hadn’t forced Mama to go to the mall to get my football boots, we’d never have had to leave our house. We’d never have lost everything. Then, after all the traveling and being locked up in the detention center, when we were finally safe, like an idiot, I made my family homeless again. All I’d done was cause them grief and ruin their lives. Mama and Baba lost their well-paid jobs and were having to work illegally. They were better off without me. I couldn’t bring them any more pain.
Aadam tried to say something to me, but I was in a daze. I sank on to my mattress, put my head on my backpack, and stared into space. When he nudged me, I blurted out the first thing that came into my head.
“I’m sorry, Aadam. For everything. I hope things work out for you.” Then I turned my body away from him and closed my eyes.
Chapter 37
When we got off the second bus the next morning near Ali’s house, Mama walked off with Sara, while Baba paced around the bus stop, talking animatedly on his phone. I didn’t say goodbye, just pulled up my hood and put my head down. I hadn’t said a word all morning.
“You okay?” Aadam asked me as I headed toward Ali’s.
Emotions burned hot inside me. I wasn’t okay, no. And my parents hadn’t even noticed—they hadn’t looked at me since last night.
I turned abruptly and hugged Aadam tight. “Take care of them, bro,” I said, then spun round without looking at him and ran off down the road.
As I approached Ali’s house, he ran out to join me, and we began walking to school. I felt sick, my stomach twitching, thinking about what I was about to do.
“Got dumb physics today,” said Ali. “Haven’t done my homework—have you?” It was just a normal day for him.
“Um, no. I forgot,” I said, my hands in my pocket, my head still down. Why doesn’t he get that I don’t want to talk? I thought.
He took his earphones out of his jacket pocket. “You want one?” he asked, holding out an ear bud.
“Nah, I’m all right.”
He put them in and we walked the rest of the way in silence.
As we got through the main gates, among the throng of school kids, I stopped. “Ali!” I shouted. He turned round and took his ear buds out of his ears. “Listen … umm . . just . . thanks for everything, yeah?”
“What’s up with you?” He frowned, then laughed awkwardly. “You look like you ain’t slept a wink. You okay?”
“Yeah, no … I’m fine. You’re a really good mate, yeah?”
“What you getting soppy for? Come on,” he said, lightly punching my arm. Mark walked toward us as the bell rang, and Ali joined him on the path to the school. I stopped and watched them approach the doors. My heart was beating hard, my mouth dry. I turned back to the gate and ran. I ran as fast as I’d ever run, and I didn’t look back. I had to do this. I had no choice. It was best for everyone.
* * *
The bus came just as I got to the stop. All of the school kids and people on their way to work had gone. I followed an old lady on, shielding my eyes from the morning sun and trying not to breathe in the lingering smell of deodorant and stinky armpits. I dropped my coins into the money collector, pulled my ticket, grabbed my change, and sat near the front, closing my eyes. I should’ve just left the first time, I told myself. If Ali hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve been back in Syria by now. Sara would still be playing happily with Iman, and Mama and Baba wouldn’t be homeless. But I can do something about it now.
Ping. The bell chimed. Over and over again. The bus kept stopping and letting people on and off—mostly old people, alone with shopping trolleys. Tete would never get on a bus alone, I thought. I couldn’t stop rocking as the bus continued on its journey. You’ve got to do this, I told myself again and again. It’s for the best.
After about ten stops, we reached Stockport bus station. It looked tiny against the tall red-brick viaduct standing behind it, like something I’d seen in a black-and-white photo in a history book. A red-and-white train hurtled over the arches, like a toy train on a playset. I stood up to follow the other passengers off the bus, but my legs wobbled, and I grabbed the handrail.
“Where do I get the bus to the airport, please?” I asked the bus driver.
He pointed to a tunnel of bus shelters straight ahead. I stepped off and walked along reading the bus-stop signs until I saw one further down with people holding suitcases and large bags. That had to be it. Yes—I checked the sign. The 199 stopped here.
There were only a few people at the stop, and I knew I must have looked odd standing there in my uniform with only my school backpack. I hadn’t thought that through. But no one said anything, just stared at their phones.
The airport bus came within five minutes. It was red and shiny-new; the air from the brakes whooshed as it stopped. The doors slid open and let off a man in a thin flowery shirt heaving a big black suitcase.
I stepped into line and listened carefully to what the others said to buy their ticket.
“Single to Manchester Airport, please,” said the curly-haired woman in front of me.
I asked for the same and tried to look like I knew what I was doing. My heart was beating double-time. What if she said no kids were allowed?
“Is that a half?” asked the bus driver.
“Umm … yes, please.” I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded better than a whole.
“I need to see your igo card.” She pursed her lips.
What was that? “Um …” I twisted Jiddo’s ring. “I don’t have one.” She was going to kick me off.
“Well, you’ll have to pay in full then.”
“Okay.” I quickly handed her my coins, took the change and ticket, and walked up the wide aisle dividing the two sides of the bus.
The bus didn’t stop at all. Jackets rustled, shoes scuffled, but no one spoke. A gust of cold air came through a slightly opened window. I wanted to close it but couldn’t risk drawing any attention to myself.
How am I going to find the right plane? I worried. What if I get caught? I can’t get caught. Breathe, Sami. Deep breaths. Everything will be fine once you’re in the luggage hold. Focus, just, focus.
* * *
When the bus finally got to the airport, I let out a long breath and stepped off. I needed to get to Terminal 1 and figure out how to get in a luggage hold.
I walked through the automated glass doors into a large open area. Ahead were the check-in counters, with snaking lines full of excited people chatting. The smell of fresh coffee wafted up my nose. I made it to the monitors that displayed the flight times. I could feel the pulse in my neck throbbing.
I had hours to work things out.
I’d seen on an aircraft-spotting blog that the best airside viewing platforms were near Penny’s Café. I walked through the airport trying to avoid the rushing travelers with their trolleys, past the baggage drop-off areas, toilets, and cash-exchange desks. Where was the food court? There!
Up ahead was the café. As I got closer, I could see planes being loaded just the other side of the café’s large window. I couldn’t have asked for a better view.
I had to have a reason to sit inside the café, so I lined up at the counter and bought a small hot chocolate with the change from the bus. I took it to an empty bar stool, which looked out at the runway, and leaned my arms on the high table, almost collapsing with relief. I’d made it. I was going to do this. Mama, Baba, Sara, and Aadam would be much happier without me and my stupid decisions ruining their lives. I was on my way back to Syria, where I belonged. With Tete and Joseph. Home. I’d call Mama and Baba once I got to Antalya and let them know I was okay. I stopped and held my rolling stomach before sipping my drink, then got comfortable to watch the crew unpack the luggage carts.
Every so often I looked around at the people in the café, drinking, checking their tickets, and making phone calls. No one seemed to care that I was sitting alone, looking at the planes.
Outside the window, I watched a luggage cart drive up to a Jet Easy plane. I leaned over the high-top table to see if I could spot a DreamAir plane. They had only one flight later that day—the one going directly to Antalya. A baggage handler jumped off the cart and started chucking suitcases into an open plane compartment, while the driver walked round the truck to pass them to him, one by one.
Oh, man. I’d have to get into the Antalya plane’s hold when it was ready to be loaded, but before the baggage handler arrived. I bit my lip. This wasn’t going to be easy. What if I fall out and die? Don’t think about it, I told myself. You can do this.
A thirst came over me as if I hadn’t drunk anything all day. I downed the last of my hot chocolate and quietly slid off the barstool. I needed to find the doors that led out to the runway. My eyes darted all over the place as I searched the nearby area. I couldn’t keep them focused on one thing. Past the café was a sushi bar and then nothing. It was quieter at this end of the airport. The stores stopped and the white walls of a corridor reappeared, narrowing to a set of double doors, staff only printed above them. I blew out a set of short breaths to compose myself.
I walked through the doors and along a corridor. Finally, I came to a single door with a push bar to exit the terminal. I stared at the metal bar. Will the alarm go off if I open it?
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. I could hear every beat of my heart.
I took a deep breath and raised my hands to press the handle.
“SAMI!” someone screamed.
Chapter 38
I gasped and jumped back, my heart nearly shooting out of my mouth. I turned and gaped at Ali.
“What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted, holding his palms out. Aadam came running up behind him, out of breath.
My jaw stiffened. I must’ve turned beetroot-red. I couldn’t speak. What are they doing here?!
Ali walked over calmly and I backed away from the door.
“What you doing, Sami? Come on, let’s go home,” he said.
“I … how … how did you know I-I-I was here?” I stuttered. My face tingled and my neck and ears felt unbearably hot.
Aadam inched forward now. “You were being weird this morning. I knew you were upset about something, so I told your baba I had to do an errand and followed you to school. I saw you run away, so I shouted to Ali.”
Ugh, I was so gripped by my own feelings, I didn’t even think about anyone watching what I was doing. How stupid. But I wasn’t going to let them stop me. “It’s none of your business, Aadam, or you, Ali. Just leave me alone!” I walked back to the door, but Ali blocked it.
“Mate, if you’re gonna get on a plane like that and risk your life, I’m making it my business.” Ali raised his hands in the air and pushed out his chest. “Things ain’t that bad, man, come on.”
“I’m not risking my life! What do you know?” I said, throwing my fist at him. I needed him to move away from the door. “How’d you even know I was going to get on a plane?”
Ali grabbed me, somehow twisting my body around and put me in a headlock. I struggled, but my neck was stuck tight. “That day when Nathan attacked you, you were acting well weird at lunch. I knew you were upset, so I came to find you and saw you in the library. I saw what you were Googling and you’d asked me about the airport bus, so I put it all together. Didn’t you wonder why I came and got you at the bus stop that day?”
I had no idea he’d come to the library. Oof. I’d been oblivious to the world. “You haven’t got a clue, Ali! Your life’s okay. Your mum loves you loads,” I said through gritted teeth, squirming to back out of his hold. “Get off me!”
His grip tightened for a few seconds and then relaxed. “I do have a clue, actually,” he said and released me. I stood up, rubbing my neck.
“What you talking about?” He’d got my attention. I looked at him carefully—his face had dropped, his shoulders were slumped, and his arms hung down by his sides.
“Look, man, let’s get out of here, and I’ll tell you in the car.”
“Car?”
“Oh, yeah.” He pushed his hair back into place. “I got my sister to drive us here. She owed me one anyway for covering for her last week.”
“What? Who else knows?”
“No one.” Ali put his hand on my shoulder. “Trust me. I told Williams that you had an asthma attack and I had to help your dad find the hospital. And my sis doesn’t know.” He gripped my jacket and started pulling me to the double doors. “I told her you had my phone and I had to get it back. I even called her from a phone box, man.”
Man, he’s smart, I thought, twisting out of his grasp and squaring up to him, my fists ready to push him aside. My ears throbbed, my body prickled. I wasn’t going to let him get in my way. I had to get on a plane today. No more delays.
“Sami, wait!” Aadam’s voice stopped me. “Look, it’s not so bad here that you need to get on a plane and go away. Why are you doing this? What about your mama and bab—”
“They hate me for what I’ve done to them!” I shouted, shoving past Ali.
“Oi!” Ali jumped in front of me. “Listen, yeah … I ain’t told no one this, but I’m gonna tell you just once. When my dad left us, my life took a serious dive. He didn’t wanna know us. Everything fell apart. My mum blamed us kids.” His eyes were fixed to the ground, but he stood firmly in front of me. “I packed my bags to run away from everything, as well. Sami, I get it.”
Aadam stepped forward and held my face, his hands on each cheek. “Sami, they love you. Why can’t you see that?” He lowered his head to look directly into my eyes.
“None of this is your fault, man,” Ali chipped in. “Yeah, your baba’s been stressed and not himself. But things are gonna get better.”
“Yeah, right. They’re only getting worse. We’re homeless.” I peeled Aadam’s hands off my cheeks and walked away.
“Sami!” Aadam grabbed my shoulders. “Why are you saying this? You’ve got it.” He stared at me, his eyes sharp. “You’ve been given leave to remain in the UK!”
I looked at him blankly. What was he going on about?
“They accepted your asylum application—you’re now officially refugees in the UK, all of you! Your Uncle Muhammad got the letter this morning and called your baba when we got off the bus. Didn’t you hear him?” he said, searching my eyes with his.
“What?” I gasped.
“Yes! It means you’ll have your own house soon.” He glanced over at Ali, then turned back to me.
“Are you lying?” I asked.
“No! I swear! I can’t believe you didn’t hear him! I thought you were just being quiet because of your argument last night. Call your baba—ask him yourself,” said Aadam, finally letting go of me. “Come on, man, you’re my brother. You can’t leave.” His voice broke. “I’ve got no one but you.”
I felt tears build up under my eyelids and tried to force them back.
Ali stepped forward. “Look at what you’ve got, Sami. A mum, dad, sister, and TWO brothers, man.” He grinned and put out a fist. “You don’t need to do this. We need you right here in Manchester. I mean, who else am I gonna thrash at football?”
I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t know what to say. I fist-bumped him back. Maybe I should just stay.
“Here,” said Ali, handing me his phone. “Call your dad. You don’t have to tell him we’re here—just tell him you’re calling him during break. Go on!”
I took the phone slowly.
“Just dial it, man!” said Ali. “Ask him about that ‘leave to remain’ thing. Go on.”
I began pressing the digits slowly, trying to remember the number Baba had made me memorize.
I held the phone to my ear. It rang for a few seconds.
