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"And burn down our house!" Adil added.
Meli tried to smile. It was a childish fear, but still...
Baba squatted so as to be closer to Isuf's level. "Isuf," he said, "at one time all of us were Christians."
"I was not!"
"Me neither!" said Adil.
"Until the Turks came, we Albanians were all Christians. Skanderbeg was a Christian."
The thought of the great hero whose picture hung in their schoolroom being a Christian was almost too much for the little brothers, who started to protest, but Baba continued. "And there are still Albanian Christians. You remember Mark," he said, mentioning one of their playmates at home. "His mama and baba are Christians."
"They don't go to the Serbian church," Isuf maintained stubbornly. He wasn't about to identify his friend with their enemies.
"No," Baba said, "they go to the Catholic church. There are different kinds of Christians, just as there are different kinds of Muslims. The church that is sponsoring us is still another kind of Christian."
"Not Serbian?"
"No," Baba assured him. "Something else they call Protestant."
"Oh. That's silly," said Isuf.
"Maybe so," said Baba, "but you don't have to be afraid. They want to help us, to be our friends, so you must be very polite to them. All right?"
Isuf nodded. "All right, Baba," he said. "And I'll make Adil and Vlora behave, too."
***
Every day they checked to see if their names were on the list, the list that would tell the time they must be at the gate on the following day for transportation to the airport.
As glad as she would be to leave the discomforts of camp, now that it was almost time to go Meli dreaded the thought of actually leaving. That would mean giving up any hope of going back to her old life. All at once she knew that what she wanted more than anything in the world was the life she had left behind: the homey apartment over Baba's store, her little brothers wrestling in the backyard, Mama making wonderful smells in the kitchen, Mehmet laughing as he teased her. Being best friends with Zana again. And yet, now that permission had actually come for them to emigrate, she found herself growing impatient. If they must go, then they should do so at once. She was weary of the waiting, tired of being a jailed chicken. If she could not go home, she wanted to be free of her chicken-wire prison.
A few more days of hurrying to get ready, only to be told once again to be patient—there were still details to be worked out—and then one chilly September day, their names appeared on the magic list. The van for the Skopje airport was scheduled for eight a.m. the following morning. They had no watches, so the Lleshis were at the gate at dawn, with the extra clothes they had been given packed into three small plastic suitcases. Baba kept patting his pocket nervously, making sure the precious papers were safe.
"We should have had breakfast," Mama said as they waited. Meli was sure she would have been too nervous to eat, though by the time the van finally appeared, her stomach felt hollow. Baba had been given a little money, and in the airport he bought two sausages and had the woman selling them cut them into pieces so that everyone could have a taste.
"They told me at the camp that there would be food on the airplane," he said. "So just a few bites for now, all right?" The sausage, which was greasy and too highly spiced, lay heavily on Meli's stomach, but she said nothing. Baba was trying so hard to take care of them. If only she had a book, something to read, anything to pass the time. At last the plane was announced. They jumped to their feet and got into the long line of passengers. Another wait, and then they were aboard, three near the window and four in the middle of the huge belly of the plane. The woman in charge showed everyone how to fasten the belts around their waists and what to do if they needed oxygen, and by the time she began to demonstrate how to put on their life preservers if they crashed into the ocean, Meli was in a sweat from anxiety. Finally, though, they were roaring down the field and lifting into the sky, snatched from a world that, however temporary and hard to bear, had felt safe compared to the alien world they were rushing to meet.
"Meli, make Isuf let me sit by the window. It's my turn now." Adil was yanking at the sleeve of her new jacket, which made her realize how hot she felt. She leaned over both boys. There was nothing to see but blue, blue sky and whiteness below. Clouds. Her stomach gave a lurch. They were above the clouds.
"Don't fight, boys," she said, slumping back against the seat.
A uniformed woman—the flight attendant, of course—was leaning over her, saying something in another language. Could it be German? It didn't sound like Macedonian, and it certainly wasn't Albanian or Serbian. Meli shook her head. The attendant tried something else that might have been English. Then why couldn't Meli understand? Could you tell me the way to the supermarket? No, of course, that wouldn't do. "Yes," she said. That should be safe.
The woman said something else, maybe in English, indicating the boys. "Yes, yes," Meli said.
The attendant leaned across and put down little shelves from the backs of the seats in front of them. Then on each shelf—or table—she put a napkin and a little package, and she poured each of them a drink. The boys immediately left off fighting and put their noses into the fizz. Yes, it was cola, a rare treat back in the days when they had such a thing as a treat. Meli helped them tear open their strange little packages of mixed salty things and then leaned back once more against the back of the seat.
"Drink it, Meli. It's good," Adil urged.
She obeyed. The boys were loving the airplane. She mustn't spoil it for them. When the real food came, even though her stomach seemed to have been doing flip-flops, she ate everything. Who knew when the next meal might be? And, although she couldn't have believed she'd be able to sleep, once the attendant showed her how to lower the back of her seat, she dropped off.
Baba was shaking her. "We have to get off," he said.
"Is it New York?"
"No, Vienna. We change to another plane here. Wake up the boys."
