Corpus Civilization

Afghanistan

"Are we almost home?"

A tiny voice—one quieted down by the trained helplessness young Afghani boys develop early on—peeped up from the back seat. The stately woman in the passenger seat responded to the question. Flashing a friendly smile to her son, the woman nodded. Her dark, somber eyes stood strong in the face of his fear. Quite a contrast to her driving husband, who occasionally mumbled worrisome updates about the Taliban's ever-expanding territory. It was clear the boy's parents were torn.

"Yes, Aarush. We will be home soon. Do not worry yourself."

But the boy did worry.

As their small, thundering hunk of metal on wheels descended deeper into the inky horizon of the dusty countryside, he snapped his teeth together nervously. His teeth chattered tensely as their car bumped and rumbled over unpaved roads. To ease his nerves, Aarush gazed out the car window. He expected to see scary men on truck wheels, angry soldiers coming to attack their vehicle...but he never did.

In the distance, he saw the vague outline of Ghazni's sandstone ruins against the waning light of evening. Their sandy forms didn't comfort him in the least. The ruins seemed to slouch tiredly against each other, leaning heavy on the shoulders of their dusty brethren. Supporting each other with the dwindling strength they had left.

Just like the soldiers keeping the city safe...always tired. Aarush thought to himself, tearing his eyes off of the ruins. Just like older brother when he comes back with news from the government. I miss Mehrang. I hope we arrive home soon.

"Aarush, stop clicking your teeth. We are almost home."

The boy halted at his father's words. A calm bliss spread through him, enough to sate his paranoia. If his father said it would be fine, then it definitely would be, right?

Minutes passed of Aarush's illusion of safety. His teeth did not chatter but sat upon each other quietly. The backs of his parents' heads no longer appeared tense in waiting but unfazed, relaxed even. Aarush tapped his weathered fingers against the worn car seat while the car fumbled on its journey towards home.

Then, it happened.

A bright explosion, pert and fiery in the distant sky. Aarush screamed as the boom registered in his ears, vibrations shaking the foundations of the car. His mother and father flinched backwards in their car seats, tossing up unprepared arms. A whiny shriek tingled at his mother's parted lips; his father garbled out profanities only Aarush's older brother was allowed to verbalize.

Aarush's mind, numb with the fear of a possible terrorist attack, could not fathom just what had happened outside of the car. An explosion, he heard...and an explosion in a danger zone. That could only mean one thing.

"Aarush!" His mother's frantic cry burst through the screen of terror covering his vision. "Aarush! Out of the car!"

Without feeling, the young Afghani boy fumbled with the door handle. In his haste, his thumbs continued to catch against the curving handle. Uncoordinated palms slapped uselessly at the door, pushing it open on a lucky throw. Aarush tumbled out onto his hands and knees, blindly scrambling to seek out his parents.

"Here! Here!"

His father's deep rumbling voice drew him in like a safety rope. Aarush latched onto his father's side, clinging to the embroidered waistcoat that was scruffed with age. The same waistcoat that his older brother tried on a few days ago when he came back home for a visit. With threads of yellow, the waistcoat reminded both brothers of their kin, of their names.

Aarush, a name that means the first ray of sun.

Mehrang, his brother, the color of the sun.

The yellow threads woven so skillfully through the fabric was their shared lifeline, their special inside joke. And now Aarush clutched it for dear life, following in the footsteps of his father as they headed for the safety of the ditch. Before them, another loud explosion ricocheted off of the sky like a torrent of thunder. Light flashed on their terrified features and illuminated his mother's wide eyes. Aarush yelped as he was pushed down harshly into the dust, his father's body hovering protectively over him.

"Shhh...shhh..." His mother repeated as she curled into a ball next to them. "Shhh..."

Aarush didn't understand why he had to be so quiet or how it would save them if the explosions got any closer. But he complied regardless, trembling against the thick heat that plagued the dark sky. They all listened intently. His father appeared to hold his breath, clutching his son and wife as the explosions grew closer.

A distant laugh compelled the boy to bury his face in fabric, hiding from whatever force was headed to destroy them. His father tensed. The laughs bubbled up from surprisingly young mouths, and Aarush began to wonder what kind of young recruits were going to kill his family.

"Aarush!" His mother whispered faintly in his ear. "Look, look up!"

The boy pivoted in his spot, uncovering his face. Above him amidst the loud explosions were brightly colored globes of light, with twinkling trails and sparkling shocks. They were yellow--as yellow as the fabric of his father's waistcoat. He gaped.

"Fire...works?" The word was almost unfamiliar in his mouth. He hadn't seen fireworks in ages, since he was but a tot. More deafening booms cascaded into his ears, but this time they were welcomed. They were fireworks. Not bombs.

"Oh...thank goodness..." His father released a long breath. He squeezed his family closer to himself, panting in relief. "They're just fireworks, Aarush. Someone is lighting fireworks. Thank God, someone is just lighting fireworks."

Laughter echoed in the dim night. It haunted the dark, dusty roads to Aarush's home, lingering in the battle-weary air with a yellow tang. His mother gasped as each one burst into a million little sparks, more in fascination than in fear. His father lifted Aarush up to get a better look at the sky.

Aarash stared at the halos of the sunny fireworks in the distance, reminded of himself and his brother...of his family's determination to stay together amidst their homeland's crisis and persevere as gallantly as the persistent sun in the morning sky.

Aarush began to laugh.

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a/n: This chapter is by @eremeunjungoo or Izzy.