A Long Way from Home (4 page)

Chapter 8

September 11, 2001— London, England

Colin stood by the airport gift shop, glancing up at a television suspended from the ceiling. It was tuned to a CNN news channel. From nearby he could hear his mother and grandmother talking. “He hasn't called once since we've been here,” Mom was saying.

Colin cocked his head in their direction. His mother was talking about his dad.

“Maybe it isn't possible for him to call,” Grandma said. “William travels so much with his job.”

“True,” Mom agreed. “Still, it's hard on Colin not having a father in his life. He'll be twelve in a couple of weeks, and he hardly knows Will.”

Colin bit his lip. How could Mom know how he felt? Whenever he tried to talk to her about Dad, she changed the subject.

“It's hard on you too, dear.” Grandma's voice was gentle.

“I didn't realize it would be this bad,” Mom said. “We can't go on like this.”

Does Mom want a divorce?
Colin wondered, feeling his pulse quicken. He recalled a fight his parents had earlier in the summer. Through the closed door of his bedroom, he had listened to their raised, angry voices. “I've spent years building up a law practice,” Mom said. “Do you expect me to throw it all away to follow you to some godforsaken part of the globe?”

Please don't fight
, Colin had begged silently
.
He hated it when his parents argued, and they were doing it more and more these days. Dad's work as a diplomat took him all over the world. Now he was posted in Kenya, and he wanted his family to go with him. Mom didn't take the news well.

Colin turned back to the television set. A man with glasses and a white beard was reporting on a baby who'd been left alone in an apartment in Manhattan. As news cameras scanned the familiar landmarks, Colin felt the ache of homesickness.
I'll be back in New York soon,
he reminded himself
.

“Colin?” Grandma came to stand beside him. “I've enjoyed our visit so much.”

“Thank you for everything, Grandma,” Colin replied. “I had a swell time.”

And he meant it. During his stay, Grandma had taken him to the Tower of London and to Buckingham Palace to watch the Changing of the Guard. Yesterday, they'd taken a bus to visit Dover Castle. From the turrets, they saw clear across the English Channel to France. But now he was more than ready to go home. School had already started, and he was looking forward to seeing his friends again. He missed his dog, Jake, who was staying with his best friend, Grant, while he and Mom were away.

“When you get home, try to get your mom to go to her yoga sessions.” Grandma glanced quickly toward an information booth where Mom was talking with an agent. “It will do wonders for her headaches.” She frowned. “I'm quite concerned about Catherine's headaches.”

“It's stress.” Colin shrugged. “At least, that's what she says.”

“All the more reason she should practice yoga. And tai chi is another marvelous exercise.”

“I'll try to convince her,” Colin promised.

Grandma reached into her bag and pulled out a brightly wrapped gift. “I got you a little something.”

“But Grandma, you already gave me my birthday gift.”

“This is to celebrate going into sixth grade.”

Colin grinned. Grandma could find a reason to celebrate almost anything. “Thanks,” he said, accepting the gift. He tore off the wrapping. It was a book:
The Young Person's Odyssey.

“It's a retelling of Homer's epic poem,” Grandma said. “I used to read it over and over when I was your age. I hope you'll get as much pleasure from it as I did.”

Colin doubted that, but he hugged his grandmother. “Thanks Grandma. I'll read it on the plane.”

Catherine was making her way toward them. “We should head for customs,” she said, glancing at her watch. She hugged Grandma. “Thanks for everything, Mother. I'll call you when we get home.”

“And thanks again for the book,” Colin said.

Grandma kissed his cheek. “Be sure to write me now and then. I'll miss you.”

While they waited to board the plane, Colin got out the electronic game he'd brought from home. He hadn't played it much at Grandma's house because she thought it was too violent. The object was to blow up space aliens. If he got a hundred in sixty seconds, he could go on to the next level. Colin shook his head. You'd think he was killing real people the way Grandma carried on.

As he watched the screen light up, Colin thought of the conversation he'd heard earlier between his mother and grandmother. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach. Things were not going well between Mom and Dad. Two aliens appeared on the screen. He blew them away.

The plane was nearly full when Colin and his mother boarded and found their seats. Colin looked around at the other passengers. The plane had come from Pakistan. Across the aisle from them sat a woman with two children, a boy and a girl.
They don't look like people on vacation,
he thought. Their clothing was faded and threadbare, and they were thin, like the starving people he had seen on television. The mother's face was sad and pinched. The little boy had a stunned look, as if someone had startled him. The girl, who was about his own age, looked more serious than any kid he'd ever seen. Her dark eyes were too big for her thin, grave face. She saw Colin looking at her, and flashed him a shy smile. He returned the smile, and gave her a thumbs up before turning on his electronic game.

Colin was so absorbed in trying to get to the fourth level of the game
,
he barely noticed when the plane took off. “Yes!” he shouted as he worked the controls. Arms, legs, and heads exploded on the small screen. With satisfaction, he watched as one icon after another was blown to bits. He heard nothing but the beep-beeping of the gadget. “Yes! Another one bites the dust.”

After a while the beeps became faint, until finally the game stopped. “Oh no,” Colin groaned. “The batteries!” He turned to his mother.

“Well, you've been playing the thing since we left London.”

Darn!
Colin thought. Why hadn't he remembered to bring an extra set? “What do I do now?”

Mom reached into his backpack, pulled out the book Grandma had given him. “Read,” she said.

Colin made a face. The last thing he wanted to do was read, but he took the book and flipped it open.
Looks interesting enough,
he thought, gazing at the colorful illustrations of one-eyed monsters and other strange creatures.

Even before he'd read the prologue — before Odysseus began his journey — Colin was hooked. He loved how Odysseus tricked the Trojans. For ten years the Greeks had tried to fight their way into Troy. But the walls were strong, and the Trojans were great warriors. Odysseus's plan took them completely by surprise. Pretending to surrender, the Greeks boarded their ships and sailed out of sight. On the beach, they left a large wooden horse with armed warriors hidden inside. The Trojans, thinking it was an offering to Poseidon, dragged the horse through the gates of the city. That night, warriors crawled out of the horse's belly, killed the guards, and opened the gates to the Greek soldiers who had been anchored in the harbor, waiting. But as Odysseus fled the burning city, Poseidon's anger was stirred. He set the tides and winds against Odysseus, and summoned all the monsters of the sea.

Colin was so engaged in the story he didn't even stop reading when the captain's voice boomed over the intercom. He only looked up from the book when he heard the words
national emergency
.

“Airspace over the United States is closed,” the captain announced. “We will be landing at an airport in Gander, Newfoundland, in approximately thirty minutes.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by gasps of surprise from the passengers.

“Airspace over the United States is closed,” repeated a man a few aisles over. “That's never happened before.”

Colin put down his book, feeling uneasy. Were they being hijacked? Was that why they couldn't go home to New York?

His mother squeezed his shoulder.

“Where in the world is Newfoundland?” a passenger asked.

“Never heard of it,” a lady's voice piped up.

“It's a province in Canada.” Catherine took a map from her bag and spread it on her lap. “Right here,” she said, talking more to herself than to the people around her. She tapped a fingernail on a large triangular island in the Atlantic Ocean. “In fact,” she said, turning to Colin. “Aunt Bea's from Newfoundland.”

“Aunt Bea?” Uncle Henry had met Aunt Bea during the war. Colin thought she was as crazy as a bat. She spoke with an odd accent and called everyone my dear, or my love. Whenever Mom and Colin went to visit them in Florida, she cooked strange food — fish and brewis, figgy duff, and lassie buns.

“Well,” Colin said, trying to keep his voice light, “maybe we'll get to have fried cod tongues again.” But even as he spoke, he couldn't ignore the frantic thoughts fluttering through his mind like trapped moths. Something was terribly wrong.

Chapter 9

Gander, Newfoundland

“All students are to clean out their desks,” the principal's voice rumbled over the PA system at Gander Academy. “All textbooks, papers, pens, and notebooks must be taken with you when you leave today.”

Leah Pickford glanced at the clock on the classroom wall. There were still twenty minutes before classes ended.

“Don't leave
anything
behind,” the principal continued. “And another thing…” He paused as a plane roared overhead. “All classes are cancelled tomorrow.”

This announcement was greeted by a chorus of cheers from Miss Pelly's sixth grade students.

Leah watched kids stuff notebooks and papers into their knapsacks. She looked at the large calendar near the blackboard. Tomorrow was Wednesday, September 12. It wasn't a holiday. There wouldn't be any in-service days until October; Miss Pelly had said so. Why then, were they closing school in the middle of the week? Something wasn't right. She raised her hand.

“Yes, Leah?”

“Why is school closed tomorrow?”

Other students had their eyes fixed on the teacher.

“There's been a…um…situation in the United States. Some planes have been diverted. Passengers will be using our school as a shelter.”

“You're kidding, right?” Kyle Elliott said. He looked around. “People are actually going to sleep in here? What's wrong with the motels?”

Leah was wondering the same thing. Gander was a small town, but it had a number of fine hotels. “What kind of a situation?” she asked, warily.

“Well, I suppose you'll find out soon enough,” the teacher said. “There's been an attack on the United States. Planes hijacked by terrorists flew into the twin towers of the World Trade Center. All airports in the U.S. are shut down.”

“But—”

Miss Pelley shrugged. “That's all I know.” She looked toward the open window. “Go home,” she said. “Enjoy this beautiful weather while it lasts. We're not going to get many more fall days like this one.”

An attack
, Leah thought as she walked home. It sounded serious. Did this mean war? She felt the familiar stabbing pain in her stomach. No doubt, her ulcer was acting up again. She could hear Granny's voice in her head. “You worries too much, my love. Lets every little thing get to you.”

Doc Drover had said the same thing. She remembered the frown on his face when her test results came back. “A girl your age shouldn't have an ulcer,” he told her. He had asked her to wait in the examination room so he could talk alone with Aunt Flo in his office. Leah did as she was asked, but heard every word they said through the thin wall that separated the two rooms. She felt a flush of embarrassment now, remembering the way they talked about her.

“She's always been a very sensitive, high strung child,” Aunt Flo told the doctor. “Worries about everything. And it's got worse since her father died.”

“How long will her mother be away?”

“Debbie's got another ten months 'til she finishes her nursing program,” Aunt Flo replied. “I told her the youngsters could stay as long as they needs to. I helped raise Debbie; she's more like a daughter than a niece. Sure, Leah and Brent is like me own grandchildren.”

“What about the boy?” Doc asked. “How has all this affected him?”

“Brent?” Aunt Flo gave a short laugh. “Nothing bothers that one. The house could fall down on his head and he wouldn't even notice. I've never seen two youngsters so different.”

It was true. Leah shifted her heavy backpack from one shoulder to the other. Nothing seemed to faze her nine-year-old brother. “A ball of energy,” Mom called him. Leah glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she might catch the beginning of
General Hospital
. Since the bus drivers went on strike, she'd been walking home, and sometimes the program was half over by the time she got there.

Granny sat at the table, a cigarette burning in the ashtray beside her. A wreath of smoke circled her head. “You're out of school early,” she said.

Leah told her about the attack on the United States.

Granny nodded. “I know. It's all over the news.” She shook her head. “There's an ill wind that don't blow someone good.”

“Is Aunt Flo working late?”

Granny glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “She should be home soon. Eli called to say he'll be late.”

At that moment, Brent burst through the door, his coat torn, red hair sticking from beneath his cap. “Granny! Granny, you'll never guess what happened.”

“Slow down, child.”

Brent paused to catch his breath. “Guy Fawkes went and blowed up two big buildings in New York.”

“G'wan with yeh, Brent.” Granny laughed. “Guy Fawkes has been dead for hundreds of years.”

“And oh my, Granny,” Brent went on as if she hadn't spoken. “Thousands of planes coming in to the airport. Jason's dad is taking him to see all the jumbo jets. Can I go with them, Granny? Can I?”

Smiling, Leah shook her head. She walked down the hall to her bedroom and tossed the knapsack onto her bed. The room was small with barely enough space for a narrow bed and chest of drawers. Uncle Eli had built a shelf on the wall for a small television. She turned it on. The screen flickered to life showing two tall buildings, fire and smoke billowing from the sides. The twin towers of the World Trade Center, she realized. With trembling hands, she turned up the sound
.
“It is estimated that thousands are dead and thousands more injured,” a journalist said.

Leah watched as one of the buildings plummeted to the ground. Her stomach churned, making her queasy. She switched to another channel, and watched a replay of the second tower collapsing. “Hundreds jumped to their deaths when the towers fell this morning,” the reporter said.

This is bad,
Leah thought. She flicked from channel to channel, watching as the towers fell again and again.