In Strange Country

“Stop it!”

“Stop it!”

“What is your problem?”

“What is your problem?”

“Moooooooooommm....he is imitating me!”

“Moooooooooommm....he is imitating me!”

“Jack is an idiot!”

“June is an idiot!”

“Stop it you two. Jack, behave your age. And June, you should know better than to answer back.”

“But he ...”

“She said first ...”

“Not one word from either of you. BEHAVE!”

Both were interrupted sharply by Mom. Her angry eyes made them stay still. They sensed that she was on the edge this time. “If you two don't stop, prepare to be grounded when we get home.” Dad, he wasn't bugged yet. They had been fighting for only an hour. Jack, 10, pulled a face at June. June, 13, responded by tipping her nose at him. He folded his arms and turned his head, staring out the car window. She too turned to the window on her side and stared out. The scenery was whizzing past the window.

Jack started thinking of what his friend, Jonny, would be doing now - fishing happily in the great Mississippi river. He himself had never gone fishing, and when he had been invited these holidays by Jonny, he had had to miss it because his Dad had already made other plans. He remembered he had to go and check the world map to find out where this country, that Dad had mentioned they would be visiting, was. It was somewhere below Russia and near India. No amount of information given by their Dad had prepared him for the heat and the emptiness of land. Instead of blue skies and a flowing river and green trees, he had a desert land, plains and plains of scattered stones; more stubby hills, covered with boulders; no grass let alone trees; no sign of water anywhere and a bright glaring empty sky. His bad mood since the start of the trip had lasted till the end; he was glad that this trip was over now and they were heading back to the hotel. And they would be flying home that night. He was almost home.

Mom too was looking out the window. The kids were quiet now but she knew they would start again soon. Perhaps they could all go on a fishing trip when they were back at home. She looked over at her husband and thought, he will be glad to be home too.

Dad was not looking out his side of the window, but out the front. He was driving. His trip here had been a business one and his meetings had gone well. Meanwhile, he had expected the kids to explore and enjoy on their own; the hotel had even provided tour guides. But both kids complained of the heat and the "boringness" of the place. They just stayed in their room and watched TV. On the last day in the city, he had decided that they would go outside the city in a rented car, just the four of them. He wanted the kids to see how different a country can be, how different a people, how different a life can be - it was not baseball and malls for everyone. But of course, the complaints hadn't stopped and he had turned back towards the hotel, a little angry and disappointed in his efforts. He turned and saw his wife looking at him. He shrugged and smiled; she smiled a tight, supportive smile back at him. She looked ahead at the road and he too turned back to the driving.

“Mom he pinched me!”

“I did not! She's a liar. Liar - stop lying.”

Before either parent could scold them there was a sudden, very loud burst and the car swerved slightly. Dad, always alert, controlled it and pulled over at the roadside. That ended the bickering. They all filed out and went over to the back of the car. Sure enough, the rear left wheel was flat. Dad said they had a spare tyre and he got to work at fixing it. A big rocky hill was to the road’s left with a vast plain to the right, spotted with more hills on the horizon, again only covered with stones and pebbles and short stubby brownish grass. Everything seemed to be a shade of brown and ochre. Not a soul was in sight. The afternoon sun shone mutely at them in a blue sky. Mom went over to see if Dad needed any help; Jack and June walked towards the small hill.

Dad was almost done and was wiping his hands when June came running to him, excitedly. “Dad! There are two men coming, from over the hill. Can they help us?” Dad looked to where she was pointing and saw them. Two dark bearded men were running very fast downhill, towards their car. They stopped and yelled something at them, waving their hands in the air. Dad did not understand the local language, but he could sense that the shouts were not friendly. Dad acted quickly. “June get in the car, quick. Jack! Jack! Run. We're leaving. Run fast!” Mom, who had been sitting inside, stepped out when she heard Dad’s raised voice. Dad yelled at her now. “Stay inside. Thieves! I will get Jack.” June got in and slammed the door. Jack was running towards their car; Dad ran towards him and caught him. He lifted him and ran back towards the car. Somehow, he pushed Jack through the open back door. He lunged towards the front door and shot a quick look at the advancing men. One had reached them now! He got in the driver's seat, slammed the door, and turned the key with a shaking hand.

Jack had been surprised when he had seen the men appear from around the hill and run towards them. He had stood there wondering where they could have come from; he had seen no village or town. The men seemed to be waving too. By the time June had run back to tell Dad, he saw that they were yelling something in their own language. He had been unsure at first, but then they had come close enough for him to see them properly – both were tall, thin, with brown skin and black beards. They wore torn long caftans and dirty, white turbans. One man was lagging behind and Jack saw that he was limping badly. He had a suspiciously big bag. He heard their loud, hoarse shouts again, and it had scared him. That's when he had heard Dad telling him to run; he had turned back towards the car, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He had been sure he would not make it; at least the first man had been so close to him then. He had seen Dad dash at him and it was a relief to feel his strong arms around him first and not those of that man. Dad pushed him quickly at the open back door.

As Jack scrambled to get in, he saw the terrified look on June's face. He turned and banged shut the door but saw that the man had reached his window. He fell hard on the car - he had not slowed down as he reached them - and he now gripped the glass which was half way up. Jack noticed his dirty, black nails and broken skin on his hands. His face was up close- dark, bearded, with many lines. Those intense black eyes looked right in his blue ones. He shouted at Jack. Hekmat ! Hekmat ! . He sounded angry now. He shook the glass, trying to break it, and shouted again – hekmat!. The other man was still behind but would reach them soon.

“Dad, go! Go! Why don't you drive? Drive! He's here!”

Jack heard June yell. He was frozen to see that face so close, but June jumped across and started turning the glass up as fast as she could. Mom pulled at Jack when he didn't move and held him low in his seat. The glass was finally up, after what seemed like ages. The man's fingers were now caught; he yelled in pain and wedged them out somehow. He banged his dirty hand on the clear glass again, and they heard, faintly, the same words – hekmat, hekmat. Dad stepped on the gas pedal then and they drove off, leaving only a small cloud of dust behind them. June turned behind to see if they would be chased, but the men only stood there, looking at the fast receding car. The second man had reached the road too now, and if they had been even a second late in leaving, it would've all been over for them. June heard them shout again. She saw that Jack was shaking and she reached out, hugging him. She realized that she was shaking too. Dad kept asking, “Everybody okay? Everybody okay?” Mom couldn't believe what had happened in those few minutes.

“Oh my God! Who were they?”

“Thieves I'm sure. Or murderers, who knows? We're safe now. We're okay.”

The kids were too scared still to say anything at all and only hugged each other tight.

They drove on to the hotel in dead silence; Mom still turned around in her seat and gripping Jack's hand; June still holding him and crying silently; Dad tense and shaken by the narrow escape they had had. Not one word was said about the incident, all the long way back to the US. They were relieved to be back home and back to their familiar life. Next day, they visited Uncle's (Dad's younger brother) home for dinner. He was well travelled and loved to explore new places. He had not visited this East Asian country though and was much interested to hear about their experience. He added there was a chance that he might travel there soon himself. Dad told about his experience across through the city, the people and the culture that he had observed.

Finally, Uncle remarked, “Well! It was good you had a chance to visit such a very different country. And I’m sure you have some good memories of it; maybe even visit again, yes?”

Dad replied, reluctantly, “Well, we did have one unpleasant incident on the last day...”

He then recounted the whole story by the road side.

Uncle reacted, “But this is very shocking! It is lucky you all escaped unharmed.” Then, “But I’m curious. Do you know exactly what they were saying?”

Dad said, “Shouting you mean. Well I don't know their language so I cannot say.”

Jack added, “They were really shouting just that one word- hekmat”. June agreed with him. After much arguing, with Mom saying she had heard something else, they decided exactly what they had been shouting.

Uncle said, “Hmm, I have some knowledge of their language but this word is not familiar to me… I do have a dictionary of the language. Lets look this up afterwards.”

Dinner over, they moved to the library. A heavy dictionary was taken off the shelves and Uncle started flipping through the pages, searching for the word. They all looked at him expectantly. The kids especially were excited to learn what it might mean. Uncle didn’t look up for quite some time but they all saw that he wasn't turning the pages anymore- he was staring at the same spot on the open page on his left. Dad asked if he had found it and Uncle replied, without looking up, that he had.

He spoke again, softly. “Medicine. It means medicine.”