Exiles in America(148)

bounced in the twin cones of light projected over the house—he was moving

more quickly than he intended. He ran up the steps and rang the bell. No-

body answered. He pulled open the storm door and knocked on solid wood.

He tried the knob. It was locked.

Daniel came up behind him. “Maybe they went out shopping! Or they

went to the movies!” He sounded as frightened as Zack felt.

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The curtains were open, and the headlights shined straight into the living

room, painting the walls white and casting a grid of lines from the window

frames. It was like a blank canvas inside, only the room was hardly empty.

There was furniture, but furniture came with the place. Then Zack under-

stood what was missing: toys. Other items were absent, too, pictures on the

walls, books in the bookcase, but what struck Zack first was the absence of

children’s toys.

“Hello?” cried Daniel. “Hello!” He tried the door, he rang the bell.

“They’re gone? They’re really gone? Were they arrested?”

Zack’s heart stumbled. “God, I hope not. I should call that FBI agent. She

could tell us.”

“No, Zack. Don’t. What if they took off on their own? They won’t want

anyone knowing they’re gone until they’re safe.”

“Of course. Yes. You’re right.”

“Right back,” said Daniel. He ran down the front steps and toward the

house next door.

Zack remained on the porch in the glare of headlights. The Toyota contin-

ued to seethe and steam in the cold. Zack returned to the window, put his

hands on either side of his face, peered inside again and thought: Where are

you? Are you together? Are you safe? How did we let this happen?

44

The nextthing Zack knew he was back at the car and watching Daniel

in the distance, who stood outside the house next door, talking to a tiny

old lady in a blue sweat suit. When Zack looked over at the Rohani house, he

half expected to see himself still on the porch. Jocko paced around on their

backseat, unsure what was going on.

Daniel returned. “She says they’ve been gone all day. When she got up this

morning the car was gone. She didn’t hear anyone come for them last night.

But she’s not friendly with the family, not since Elena chewed her out for

scolding Osh when the boy got into her garage one afternoon. Did you want

me to drive?”

“No. Why shouldn’t I drive?”

“Baby. You look awful. Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Zack was surprised to hear that. He didn’t feel anything. And he hadn’t

seen a ghost. He’d seen nothing at all.

He drove very carefully while his mind raced with questions: If they’d

been arrested, would the FBI take the car? Would the FBI take the entire fam-

ily? If they’d gone freely, wouldn’t Elena call him? Could Abbas force her to

go against her will? And where did they go? Canada? France? Iran?

“Hush, Jocko, almost there,” said Daniel, and Zack saw they were still on

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Jamestown Road, only halfway through a three-minute drive. Time had

stopped while his brain rapidly worked through all the awful possibilities. It

was adrenaline, he told himself, only adrenaline, yet he felt stoned, loboto-

mized, disconnected.

As soon as he parked the car in the carport, he ran inside and upstairs to

the phone in the kitchen. There were no messages. He felt he should call

someone, but Daniel was right, they couldn’t call the FBI. He called Jeremy,

their lawyer, but only got his machine. He left a message. “This is Zack

Knowles. I was wondering if you’ve spoken to the Rohanis today.”

Daniel already stood beside him. “You didn’t want to tell him they’re

gone?”

“No. In case the FBI is listening.” Not until now did it occur to him that

their phone might be bugged. Adrenaline shook loose all kinds of new ideas.

He tried Hassan—he still had the man’s cell phone number in his wallet—but

again he got a machine, only this one spoke French. “Hi, this is Zack Knowles

in Virginia. I was wondering if you’ve spoken to your brother or sister-in-law

today. Please call us.”

“It’s so unreal,” said Daniel. “Like a bad dream. Nothing makes sense, so

it feels like anything can happen. But people don’t just disappear. Once we

know what happened, then it’ll feel real.”

Zack sat at the kitchen table. He was exhausted. He hadn’t guessed he was

so tired. He waited for his mind to wear itself out and slow down, but it con-

tinued to run like a manic rat in a wheel.

“You want a drink?” said Daniel. “I could use a drink.”