A groan came out of her. "Oh," she said, tremulously, barely able to make a voice, "Oh,
Mariam."
Laila paced, moaning and banging her hands together, as Mariam sat near Rasheed, her
hands in her lap, calm and motionless. Mariam didn't say anything for a long time.
Laila's mouth was dry, and she was stammering her words, trembling all over. She willed
herself not to look at Rasheed, at the rictus of his mouth, his open eyes, at the blood
congealing in the hollow of his collarbone.
Outside, the light was fading, the shadows deepening. Mariam's face looked thin and
drawn in this light, but she did not appear agitated or frightened, merely preoccupied,
thoughtful, so self possessed that when a fly landed on her chin she paid it no attention. She
just sat there with her bottom lip stuck out, the way she did when she was absorbed in
thought.
At last, she said, "Sit down, Laila jo."
Laila did, obediently.
"We have to move him. Zalmai can't see this."
Mariam fished the bedroom key from Rasheed's pocket before they wrapped him in a bed
sheet. Laila took him by the legs, behind the knees, and Mariam grabbed him under the
arms. They tried lifting him, but he was too heavy, and they ended up dragging him. As
they were passing through the front door and into the yard, Rasheed's foot caught against
the doorframe and his leg bent sideways. They had to back up and try again, and then
something thumped upstairs and Laila's legs gave out. She dropped Rasheed. She slumped
to the ground, sobbing and shaking, and Mariam had to stand over her, hands on hips, and
say that she had to get herself together. That what was done was done After a time, Laila
got up and wiped her face, and they carried Rasheed to the yard without further incident.
They took him into the toolshed. They left him behind the workbench, on which sat his saw,
some nails, a chisel, a hammer, and a cylindrical block of wood that Rasheed had been
meaning to carve into something for Zalmai but had never gotten around to doing Then
they went back inside. Mariam washed her hands, ran them through her hair, took a deep
breath and let it out. "Let me tend to your wounds now. You're all cut up, Laila jo."
Mariam said she needed the night to think things over. To get her thoughts together and
devise a plan.