Vydia 6

Three months into the siege I'm getting ready for school Friday morning. I spot a half dozen men from the mosque, the sober set, carrying folding chairs and picnic sets.
No one has to tell me what is happening. If Fatima's father has one ounce of dignity left, these guys will be gone in a few minutes. If not, they'll be there all day.
An invitation, come with us to the mosque today. Give it one more chance before you give up on life.
Furtively looking out the window so Mum won't see, I observe. In two minutes it is over. Warm smiles and handshakes all around, the men trek cheerfully back.
One of those men is uncle to Ahmad, in my class. Monday morning, I see the boys gathered around Ahmad as he quietly relates a story.
In due course I will hear from Derek.
As Fatima heads for the washroom, he approaches quietly, "hear what happened at Fatima's?"
"I could guess."
"One visit, that's all it took. Felt the fellowship, said he would go regularly. And amend his ways."
"What a relief!"
"We've kind of drifted apart. Suppose we could ah?"
"Yes we could!"
As Fatima returns, the pressure drops to zero, no more fear of roommating. Now I can relax around her.
I feel my determination stiffening. Hey, why not? She and I could win scholarships to President's College for Girls in Georgetown, for Grade 7 to 12. Miles ahead of the rest here.
She must have spotted the steel in my eye. Smiles, quietly says, "right, Christmas exams, let's you and I bury these people alive."