A Far Away Home by Howard Faber

sounded a lot like her.

Chapter Eight
    Flying Supplies to Sharidure
    It was his father-in-law, Sayeed, who paved the way for Ali to return to Sharidure,
or at least get very close. One of their customers was a pilot in the Iranian Air
Force. In talking about what he was doing in the military, he mentioned that he was
flying relief missions to Afghanistan. Sayeed, knowing that the Iranians were particularly
interested in supporting the Shiites in Afghanistan, asked if any of the missions
were going to Bamiyan. The pilot said, “That’s exactly where we mostly fly. We drop
food and other supplies to safe areas near Bamiyan. We don’t have very good maps
of the area, so we aren’t always sure where to make the drops. Do you know that area,
or do you know of anyone who does?”
    Sayeed was quick to answer. “My son-in-law came from that area not so long ago. He
might be able to help you. Ali, come here, please.”
    â€œYes, did you need my help?”
    â€œYes, no, well, my friend might. This is my son-in-law, Ali. This is Reza, my friend
and a pilot in the Iranian Air Force. He is flying relief missions to Bamiyan and
would like some help from someone who might know that area.”
    â€œSalomalaykum, Ali. Sayeed has told me how good of a person you are and how happy
he is to have you as his son-in-law. He also said you might know something about
the Bamiyan area. We are having some trouble because our maps are old and not very
accurate. Even if you haven’t flown, if you know the area, you would be a great help
to us.”
    Ali’s heart started to beat a little faster. He could help, probably more than a
little. “I do know the area, and I have flown.” Ali told Reza about his flying and
landing the plane at Sharidure and Kabul. He also mentioned knowing the area because
the American pilot showed him maps of Bamiyan province.
    Reza was astounded at this young Afghan. He hadn’t imagined that someone from rural
Afghanistan might have flown, especially not piloted a plane himself. “You are the perfect person to help us. Could you come tomorrow to my office and take a look at
what we plan for next week? We would be glad to pay you.”
    Ali looked briefly at Sayeed, who gave a slight nod of approval. “If my father-in-law
agrees, I would be very happy to help. The people who live there are my people, and
some of them are my family.”
    Sayeed chimed in, “Of course, he must help. He can still work many days here and
be of great help to the Afghan people. You know, Reza, I also grew up near Bamiyan.
It is my duty, as well as Ali’s, to help our people.”
    So it was settled. Tomorrow Ali would meet with the Iranian Air Force to help find
places to drop food and supplies in Afghanistan. That night, he breathlessly told
Nafisa about this great chance. He worried some that she might be afraid to let him
go, possibly to be in danger from Russian planes. He told her about his chances to
fly with Dan, even landing the small plane at Sharidure. She could sense his excitement,
so she smiled and nodded, “Of course, you must go. Those are your people, your family
far away. Ali, they were my father’s family, too. I am so proud that you will be
helping.”
    ***
    The next morning Ali went with Reza to the air base in Muhshed. He climbed into one
of the seats behind the pilots, across from the navigator. As the cargo plane taxied
onto the runway, he thought of the first time he flew with Dan. It seemed like a
long time ago. When they entered Afghan air space, the pilot descended to a low altitude
to make the plane less easy of a target for the radar, and so Russian fighters might
not so easily find them. About an hour later, they were over territory that looked
more familiar to Ali. He began telling the pilot which valleys to follow to Bamiyan.
They soon entered the valley leading to Sharidure. He pointed it out as they flew
past. The pilot asked Ali where