Refugee Prison Break

Chapter 4

It took twelve hours for Bas's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Zaidi, to realize he was missing and contact me to ask where he was. By then, according to a flight tracker, he was somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, and it was safe to reveal his plan.

"A three-month adventure? Has he gone mad? What about that internship he had arranged?" his mother fumed. The internship had been a ruse. "Bas is in such big trouble when he gets back."

"He's an adult now. He can take care of himself."

Those three months went quickly for me. It was a busy time. I exchanged several messages with my longtime friend, but it sounded like he was having too much fun to maintain regular contact.

Then, a few days before he was due to fly home, I asked if he needed someone to meet him at the airport. Although I had by then moved to Malaysia's capital, Kuala Lumpur, for university, I was planning on a short trip to see family in Penang. "If you get your mom to do it, she's going to beat you over the head the second you come through arrivals!" I texted.

"Actually, I'm thinking of staying a little longer."

"Really? Are you allowed to?" I asked, surprised.

Bas didn't reply.

The following week, after I had had a tense phone call with his father, and after I had tried calling him many times, Bas emailed saying everything was fine, that he had somehow gotten a visa extension, and that he was staying with a friend in Oakland. "Come visit! I'll take you to China Town, and the hippy districts, and Alcatraz."

"You want to take me to a prison? How are you doing for money? Do you need help?" Bas's parents had cut off all funding as a way to entice him back.

"I'm getting by."

"Well, if you're still there by the end of the year, I'll come visit." I said it not for a moment believing it was possible,

"I'll hold you to your word!"