he again； I pulled the blanket to my chest and waited for Armand s pills to work。
WHEN I WOKE UP； the room was darker。 The slice of sky peeking between the curtains was the purple of twilight turning into night。 The sheets were soaked and my head pounded。 I d been dreaming again； but I couldn t remember what it had been about。
My heart gave a sick lurch when I looked to Sohrab s bed and found it empty I called his name。 The sound of my voice startled me。 It was disorienting； sitting in a dark hotel room； thousands of miles from home； my body broken； calling the name of a boy I d only met a few days ago。 I called his name again and heard nothing。 I struggled out of bed； checked the bathroom； looked in the narrow hallway outside the room。 He was gone。
I locked the door and hobbled to the manager s office in the lobby； one hand clutching the rail along the walkway for support。 There was a fake； dusty palm tree in the corner of the lobby and flying pink flamingos on the wallpaper。 I found the hotel manager reading a newspaper behind the Formica…topped check…in
counter。 I described Sohrab to him； asked if he d seen him。 He put down his paper and took off his reading glasses。 He had greasy hair and a square…shaped little mustache speckled with gray。 He smelled vaguely of some tropical fruit I couldn t quite recognize。
Boys； they like to run around； he said； sighing。 I have three of them。 All day they are running around； troubling their mother。 He fanned his face with the newspaper； staring at my jaws。
I don t think he s out running around； I said。 And we re not from here。 I m afraid he might get lost。
He bobbed his head from side to side。 Then you should have kept an eye on the boy； mister。
I know； I said。 But I fell asleep and when I woke up； he was gone。
Boys must be tended to； you know。
Yes； I said； my pulse quickening。 How could he be so oblivious to my apprehension？ He shifted the newspaper to his other hand； resumed the fanning。 They want bicycles now
Who？
My boys； he said。 They re saying； Daddy； Daddy； please buy us bicycles and we ll not trouble you。 Please； Daddy！ He gave a short laugh through his nose。 Bicycles。 Their mother will kill me； I swear to you。
I imagined Sohrab lying in a ditch。 Or in the trunk of some car； bound and gagged。 I didn t want his blood on my hands。 Not his too。 Please。。。 I said。 I squinted。 Read his name tag on the lapel of his short…sleeve blue cotton shirt。 Mr。 Fayyaz； have you seen him？
The boy？
I bit down。 Yes； the boy！ The boy who came with me。 Have you seen him or not； for God s sake？
The fanning stopped。 His eyes narrowed。 No getting smart with me； my friend。 I am not the one who lost him。
That he had a point did not stop the blood from rushing to my face。 You re right。 I m wrong。 My fault。 Now； have you seen him？
Sorry； he said curtly。 He put his glasses back on。 Snapped his newspaper open。 I have seen no such boy。
I stood at the counter for a minute； trying not to scream。 As I was exiting the lobby； he said； Any idea where he might have wandered to？
No； I said。 I felt tired。 Tired and scared。
Does he have any interests？ he said。 I saw he had folded the paper。 My boys； for example； they will do anything for American action films； especially with that Arnold ？？WThatsanegger……
The mosque！ I said。 The big mosque。 I remembered the way the mosque had jolted Sohrab from his stupor when we d driven by it； how he d leaned out of the window looking at it。
Shah Faisal？
Yes。 Can you take me there？
Did you know it s the biggest mosque in the world？ he asked。
No； but……
The courtyard alone can fit forty thousand people。
Can you take me there？
It s only a kilometer from here； he said。 But he was already pushing away from the counter。
I ll pay you for the ride； I said。
He sighed and shook his head。 Wait here。 He disappeared into the back room； returned wearing another pair of eyeglasses； a set of keys in hand； and with a short； chubby woman in an orange sari trailing him。 She took his seat behind the counter。 I don t take your money； he said； blowing by me。 I will drive you because I am a father like you。
I THOUGHT WE D END UP DRIVING around the city until night fell。 I saw myself calling the police； describing Sohrab to them under Fayyaz s reproachful glare。 I heard the officer； his voice tired and uninterested； asking his obligatory questions。 And beneath the official questions； an unofficial one： Who the hell cared about another dead Afghan kid？
But we found him about a hundred yards from the mosque； sitting in the half…full parking lot； on an island of grass。 Fayyaz pulled up to the island and let me out。 I have to get back； he said。
That s fine。 We ll walk back； I said。 Thank you； Mr。 Fayyaz。 Really。
He leaned across the front seat when I got out。 Can I say something to you？
Sure。
In the dark of twilight； his face was just a pair of eyeglasses reflecting the fading light。 The thing about you Afghanis is that。。。 well； you people are a little reckless。
I was tired and in pain。 My jaws throbbed。 And those damn wounds on my chest and stomach felt like barbed wire under my skin。 But I started to laugh anyway。
What。。。 what did I。。。 Fayyaz was saying； but I was cackling by then； full…throated bursts of laughter spilling through my wired mouth。
Crazy people； he said。 His tires screeched when he peeled away； his tail…lights blinking red in the dimming light。
You GAVE ME A GOOD SCARE； I said。 I sat beside him； wincing with pain as I bent。
He was looking at the mosque。 Shah Faisal Mosque was shaped like a giant tent。 Cars cam