The Boy at the Back of the Class

by Onjali Q. Raúf

  I looked over at Ahmet. “He’s not here in London?” I asked.

  Ahmet shook his head. “I come here. My dad…he behind.”

  I frowned. “Behind? Where?”

  Ahmet shrugged and looked down at the comic book. “Maybe he in France.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling sad for him. I’d hate it if I didn’t know where my dad was or if he was still alive. I wanted to ask who the lady in the red scarf was, and whether she could help him find his dad. And where his mum and his sister and his cat were. But then Ahmet flicked to another page and held it up to me. He was pointing to a picture. In it, Tintin and Captain Haddock and Snowy and a man with an eye patch were all standing on a raft in the middle of the ocean, and Captain Haddock was waving a flag that had been made out of his blue sweater.

  “Sea,” said Ahmet quietly.

  I nodded.

  “I have sister,” he said. “She there now.”

  “You mean here?” I asked, pointing to the raft.

  “No,” said Ahmet. “Here.” He pointed to the ocean.

  And then I understood.

  “Oh,” I said. I felt strange—as if something had just hit me on the inside of my chest. It was the same feeling I had in the hospital when Mum and Uncle Lenny told me that Dad had died.

  “You mean…your sister…”

  “Her name Syrah,” said Ahmet.

  “Syrah…she is…in the sea?”

  Ahmet nodded and rubbed his eyes.

  “Then she’s not with your cat?” I asked quietly.

  Ahmet shook his head. “Cat dead…in mountains.” And then, flicking to another page, he pointed to a tent and said, “Mum sick. Last time I see her.”

  “Oh,” I said. I wanted to cry, but Ahmet wasn’t crying, so I didn’t think I should either. Instead I stared at the picture he was pointing to just as hard as I could so that he couldn’t see my eyes.

  We didn’t say anything else after that, because a few seconds later, Michael and Josie came out and joined us. Tom was still inside because it was chocolate pudding day and he always tried to get an extra one after everyone else had left. I waited to see if Ahmet would show them the pictures and tell them about Syrah and the sea and his mum too. But he didn’t, and when he looked at me and shook his head, I knew that he wanted me to keep it a secret.

  I nodded back and made a silent promise to Ahmet that I wouldn’t tell anyone. But I didn’t know that I would be forced to break my promise the very next day. Because that was when I heard Something. And it was a Something so scary, that it changed Everything.

  The night after Ahmet told me about his sister Syrah being in the sea and not knowing if his mum and dad were alive, I had trouble getting to sleep. My mum always tells me to count sheep when I can’t sleep. But I find sheep too funny—they look like clouds with legs—so I count leopards instead. They’re colorful and look serious. I can’t remember how many leopards I counted to, but it must have been more than two hundred before I eventually drifted off.

  By the time morning arrived, I was so tired and my legs moved so slowly that when I got to the bus stop, it was late, and Tom and Josie and Michael had already left. I didn’t really mind, because getting the bus on my own is fun. I like watching the people passing by on the streets outside or making guesses about the people sitting next to me. Last week, there was a huge man sitting right at the front of the bus, snoring so loudly that he was making all the windows shake. Everyone was watching him and giggling or shaking their heads at him. But what if he had been a world-famous snorer on his way to the International Snoring Championships and was practicing his best snore? You just never know.

  That morning, I was too sleepy to look at anyone and guess stories about them, so I leaned my head on the large window and listened instead. There are always lots of noises on a bus—especially when there are lots of people going to work and trying to get to school—but it’s usually noises like the doors opening and closing, and people ringing the bell, and tickets beeping on the ticket machine. Nobody really talks to anyone else, unless they’re with friends or asking for a seat. Uncle Lenny says it’s because we’re English, and English people would rather die than have to speak to someone they don’t know. I think I can’t be very English, if that’s true.

  The bus had passed two stops and except for a baby who was making loud gurgling noises, it was nice and quiet. I think everyone must have been as sleepy as me. But then at the third stop, a woman dressed in a bright yellow coat and a man dressed in a suit came and sat in front of me and, picking up the free newspaper lying on both their seats, began talking loudly about all the things they were reading.

  At first, they talked about the Economy being broken by rich people who weren’t paying their taxes and hiding all their money away in a place called Off Shore. Then they talked about a princess who was going out with an actor they didn’t like and a famous singer who had been arrested for hitting someone. I was starting to fall asleep again when the man suddenly said something that made me sit up in my seat and listen just as hard as I could.

  “Oh, ain’t it horrible,” the man said. “Look at what they’re saying about refugees! Border restrictions as of next month…I knew this would happen.”

  The woman shook her head, looking over his shoulder at the paper. “Those poor people. Where are they meant to go? Back to that nightmare they left behind or left to starve in France?”

  “Cheaper for us to leave them in France,” said the man, shaking his head. “Says here the borders will be closed by the end of the month. So that’s all the racists made happy, then!”

  The woman tutted. “Rescuing kids out of the sea one minute and then telling them they can’t be helped the next! Some of them might have family here, poor things. That should count for something.”

  The man read the newspaper for a few more seconds and then said, “Well, apparently not. Says here we’ve already taken in a few hundred, so we’re not going take in any more. Doesn’t matter how little they are.”

  It was my stop. As soon as I got off the bus, I ran as fast as I could to school. My heart was beating so loudly that I could hear it in my ears, but I didn’t care. If what the man said was right, then after next month Ahmet’s mum and dad would never be allowed into England—and Ahmet would never see them again. I needed to tell Tom and Michael and Josie about what I had just heard. And I had to tell them everything without Ahmet hearing!

  But when I reached the school gates, the bell was already ringing and the playground was nearly empty. I ran to the classroom just before Mrs. Khan started to take attendance. She looked at me with a frown but didn’t say anything.

  “Where were you?” whispered Josie. “We waited until the second bus came!”

  I was too out of breath to say lots of words, so I just said, “Slept…late.”

  That morning, Mrs. Khan put us into two big groups so that we could write a play on the story of Romulus and Remus and then act it out. It’s a legend about two baby boys whose mum hid them in a basket and sent them far away so that they wouldn’t be killed by people who were jealous of them. I guess they were Refugee Boys like Ahmet was, except Ahmet’s mum didn’t put him in a basket. He came in a boat.

  Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi said Ahmet could join the class on this project, so Ahmet and Tom were put in my group, and Michael and Josie were put in the other group. I was trying to think of how to let them know of what I’d heard when Mrs. Khan told everyone to get a piece of colored paper and a special pen from her desk so that we could write out our own lines. I decided to take an extra piece of paper, and while everyone was busy looking through their textbooks to find out which character they wanted to play, I quickly wrote a Top-Secret Message that said:

  I heard something on the bus!

  We mustn’t tell Ahmet about it!

  Meet me in the library at break time.<
br />
  TOP-SECRET.

  I folded the Message up until it was so small that I could hide it in my hand, and when Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi weren’t looking, I passed it to Tom. Tom looked around and when nobody except me was watching him, he opened it and read it. Then he gave me a nod and, pretending to need another piece of paper, went up to Mrs. Khan’s desk and gave Josie the note on the way back to his seat. Then I saw Josie read the note and quickly pass it to Michael—who dropped it on the floor. But luckily everyone was too busy writing their lines to notice and he snatched it back up again. He looked over at me and gave me a thumbs-up and then stuffed the Top-Secret Message into his pocket.

  As soon as the bell for first break began to ring and Mrs. Khan told us to leave everything where it was, I ran to the library and waited outside. It was the one place in school no one ever tried to go into at recess. A few minutes later, Josie and Michael came running up the hall.

  “Tom’s on the playground with Ahmet,” said Josie. “We can fill him in later.”

  “What did you hear?” asked Michael, his eyes wide.

  I quickly told them everything that the man and woman on the bus had said, about no more refugees being allowed into the country, and then what Ahmet had told me about his mum and dad being left behind. I had to tell them about his sister Syrah too. I felt bad about breaking my promise, but I knew that Ahmet wouldn’t mind me telling Josie and Michael about it, because this was a real emergency and they were his friends too.

  Josie gasped. “You mean…if he doesn’t find them before the end of the month, then Ahmet might never see his mum and dad again?”

  I shook my head. “Not once the government closes the border gates!”

  “Yeah,” said Michael. “They’re like giant airport ones with loads of police and guards protecting them—and you can’t go through them when they’re closed or you get put in jail.” Michael looked at his watch and pressed a button so that it lit up and showed the date. “If they’re closing all the gates at the end of this month, that means he’s only got nine days to find them!”

  “What do we do?” asked Josie.

  “I say we tell Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi—they’ll know what to do!” I said.

  Michael and Josie agreed. We ran to the staff room and knocked loudly on the door. We’re not supposed to disturb teachers in the staff room at recess, because that’s where they go to drink lots of tea and find answers to questions that they can’t find in their answer books. I know because Josie’s aunt is a teacher, and she told Josie, who told me. But Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi had told us to go and find them if Something was wrong. And this Something felt like the most wrong Something I had ever heard of.

  After a few seconds, Mr. Gaffer opened the door and looked down at us with a frown. He’s the Vice Principal, which means he’s in charge on the days Mrs. Sanders is away. But Mrs. Sanders is never, ever away, so I don’t really know what he does.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Please, sir, we need to see Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi immediately,” I said.

  “It’s an emergency!” added Josie.

  “Is it really?” he said suspiciously.

  We all nodded at least ten times.

  “All right, just hold on,” replied Mr. Gaffer as he closed the door.

  Josie twisted her hair nervously around her finger and stuffed a whole chunk in her mouth, and Michael started kicking the wall lightly as we waited. After what felt like twenty whole minutes but couldn’t really have been more than one, Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi came to the door.

  “Is something the matter?” asked Mrs. Khan. “Is it to do with Ahmet?”

  We all nodded again.

  Ms. Hemsi and Mrs. Khan stepped out into the hall and closed the staff room door behind them. We all started talking at once.

  Mrs. Khan held up her hands and said, “Calm down, calm down! Now. One at a time, please.”

  “Miss, the government is going to close the gates!” I began.

  Josie said, “And Ahmet’s mum and dad are on the other side. They might get stuck!”

  “And there’s only nine days left until the gates close,” said Michael, showing Mrs. Khan his watch.

  Mrs. Khan and Ms. Hemsi looked at each other and then looked back at us.

  “What do you mean by ‘gates’?” asked Mrs. Khan gently.

  “You know—the gates at the edge of the borders!” said Michael. “The ones where all the police with the big guns are. The refugees have to come through them to get into the country.”

  “Ah,” said Mrs. Khan. “And where did you hear they were going to be closed? Was it on the news?”

  I told her about the man and woman on the bus.

  “I see,” said Mrs. Khan. She was quiet for a moment, and I saw her give Ms. Hemsi another look. Then she said, “Ahmet is a lucky boy to have such caring friends. But you don’t have to worry at all. His foster mother, who you’ve seen coming to pick him up every single day after school, is there to look after him until his family can be found, and she’s working with some very smart people to try to help Ahmet find his family just as quickly as possible.”

  We all looked over at each other in surprise. So the woman in the red scarf was Ahmet’s foster mum! Everything was beginning to make sense and all our questions were being answered too.

  “Smart people like who, miss?” asked Michael.

  “Well, smart people from the government,” said Mrs. Khan.

  “And lawyers and some wonderful kindhearted ministers who are working in Parliament, and charities too,” said Ms. Hemsi.

  “That’s right,” agreed Mrs. Khan. “They’re doing everything they can to make sure Ahmet’s mum and dad are found. That’s their job.”

  “But…what if they don’t find his family before they close the gates?” I asked.

  Ms. Hemsi and Mrs. Khan smiled, but they didn’t smile with their whole faces, so I knew right away that they were just pretend smiles.

  “Everyone is doing everything they can,” said Mrs. Khan again.

  Ms. Hemsi nodded and then, looking at me, asked, “Ahmet spoke to you about his family…and what happened to his sister?”

  I nodded, but suddenly felt nervous. I had promised Ahmet that I would keep it a secret and I hadn’t.

  Ms. Hemsi smiled and said my name softly. “That’s a very good thing,” she said. “A very, very good thing.”

  The bell rang, and Mrs. Khan made us promise not to upset Ahmet by talking about the border gates or telling anyone else about his sister. We all promised, and Mrs. Khan said, “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  I nodded, but I didn’t think she sounded very sure. In fact, I didn’t think everything was going to be fine at all. Not if Ahmet didn’t find his family before the gates closed!

  That afternoon, we told Tom what had happened and we all came to a decision. We were going to try to help instead.

  And to do that, we would need to go on our First-Ever Top-Secret Mission.

  In the movies, people who go on a Top-Secret Mission always have lots of fun gadgets and maps and ropes and sometimes even wear a cool hat. When you’re nine and over three-quarters, though, and have to go to school every day, rescue missions are a lot harder—especially when you don’t know where the people you want to rescue are, and you have to hide everything you’re doing from the person you’re going on the mission for.

  But even though we didn’t have any gadgets or ropes or hats, we spent recess and lunch and time after school trying to think up ideas that might help Ahmet find his family quickly. By Thursday morning, Tom and Josie and Michael had each come up with a plan. But I hadn’t been able to think of anything.

  “Don’t worry,” said Josie. “You can help us see if our ones will work.”

  I tried to smile but it didn’t make me feel any bette
r.

  On the way to school we went through all the plans. Tom went first. He said we should write to the prime minister to tell her to keep the gates open until Ahmet had found his family. He had even gotten the address of the prime minister’s house from his dad and written out the letter.

  This is what it looked like:

  Dear Prime Minster,

  We heard from some peeple on the bus that the Goverment was going to lock the gates so that no more Refujees could come in. But our friend Ahmet is a refujee boy—you might have heard about him becaus he’s famuos for beating up Brendan the Bully and he doesn’t know where his mum and dad are and needs to find them. Please Prime Minster can you please keep the gates open so that he can find them and so that he can be happy again?

  Thank You.

  I thought it was a good idea and so did Josie, but Michael said it wouldn’t work because the prime minister was in charge of the government and had probably been the one who told the security guards to lock the gates and sent them her special keys. So we couldn’t ask her for any help at all.

  Then Josie talked about her plan, which was called the Special Appeal. She said we should ring a newspaper and tell them all about it, because her mum and dad were always complaining about how many Special Appeals there were for charities in their newspapers. And once the appeal went out, Ahmet’s mum and dad would see it and get in touch. Josie had written the Special Appeal out and made it as short as possible so that the newspapers could print it quickly.

  This is what it looked like:

  SPESCHAL APPEAL

  Please every1, a boy named Ahmet who is in Nelson Primary School ran away from Syria becoase of bombs and lost his mum and dad 2. If you C a man and a woman who looks like this is their Son or your Ahmet’s mum and dad please ring Mrs. Khan on the telephone number at our school which is below. We need to find Ahmet’s family before the gates are locked which is Y this Appeal is So Speschal.