(On her Majesty's Secret Service & Bean Trees)
Another day, another mission, except
this one was slightly different from what I usually do. This was more of a
favor than a true mission, but it still was for an important cause no less. I
sat in the dingy restaurant that seemed to not have had a customer in years,
and waited for a long lost friend's son. Baba had gotten me out of a slight
problem about fifteen years back, so this was my chance to now repay my
deceased friend by helping his son. An Englishman never backs out of his
promises. It was not easy getting into Taliban territory, as I am usually a
white, British male, but with Q's help, and Farid's transportation, I was able
to sneak in with a genuine disguise.
As I scan the area of any dangers, I
hear the door creak open and quickly but sneakily chance a glance. Right away I
knew this was Amir, from his slight resemblances to Baba and the obvious fake
beard on his chin. He glanced in my direction and I give him the signal to
“come hither.” With swift, anxious strides he quickly sits in the chair across
from me making the patron very happy by ordering a drink. What I wouldn't do
for a Vodka Martini, shaken not stirred of course, but I knew they wouldn't
have that here, so I sat and waited for him to start the conversation.
“Hello, I am Amir, and I was told
you would be able to help me,” he said before quickly taking a sip of his
drink.
“Bond, James Bond,” I replied,
holding out my hand for him to take. “I heard you have a problem I might be
interesting in fixing.”
“Yes, yes, I have made many horrible
mistakes in my life and now I want to ratify them. May I ask a question first
though before I explain my story?” I nodded giving him the go ahead. “Why would
you help me? I can not pay you, yet here you sit ready to help in any way,” he
asked totally confused. I pondered if he was okay with my mentioning his
father, but in the end I thought it was alright.
“About fifteen years ago your father
helped me out of a tight situation. I always repay those who help me, but
because he died my dept to him transfers to you,” I explain hoping that would
satisfy his questioning. It seems it did, for he just nodded his head and
started to explain his problem.
“As a boy I was very selfish and
jealous, only caring for two things, myself and Baba's approval. I grew up with
a boy named Hassan. He was my servant, and he always took care of me, protected
me, and watched my back whenever it was needed. Then, the one time I could
repay him for all the goodness he gave me, I became a coward and ran, and I
have regretted that decision for the rest of my life.” He took a deep breath
and I could tell he was having a hard time speaking about his past. “But now I
have the chance to redeem myself, to do what I should have done all those years
before.”
“So what is it that we will be
doing?” I asked with true curiosity.
“We need to sneak into a Taliban
official's home and rescue Hassan's son Sohrab.” He said this with so much
conviction that I knew that whether I agreed or not, he would give his life to
save this child's and to gain his honor back.
I gave him a piercing look, looking
deep into his eyes and gave him my response, “Let's go.” We moved quickly,
jumping into Farid's car that he let us borrow. Traveling down the streets, I
couldn't help but stare at the destruction of what once was a glorious city
filled with merchants and children, yet held nothing but weak and lost people
trying to find their way through life. We pulled up across the street to a
fairly large house and I was in my element.
“Stay right behind me,” I ordered and with a nod of confirmation, I quickly
scaled the wall, helping him up as well. We were lucky when we ran into nobody
as we forced our way through the front door, by melting the lock, and then
sneaked through the hallways, but I felt our luck was about to run out.
Peering into a room I got the sight
a young boy dancing in front of a man. Turning around I let Amir peak in. “Is
that him?” I asked hoping it was.
“That is Sohrab, and the other man looks familiar, but I can't place him,” he
responded starring off into space.
“Alright, stay here. When I attack
get the kid out of harms way.” I took a deep breath before quietly sneaking up
behind the man. With the moves of a killer, I quickly wrapped my arms around
the man's neck cutting off his air supply. It was a rough fight to try and keep
him from moving from my grasp, but after awhile his struggling stop. Dropping
him to the floor I searched for Amir, finding him holding the boy but glaring
at the official on the ground. There must have been a questioning look in my
eyes for he suddenly said, “That is Assef the one I couldn't stand up to, the
one who destroyed Hassan's life.” I didn't respond, only staying quiet so he
could have his moment, before grabbing the boy from him and heading out the
door, and then soon out the building.
It was a quiet ride as we tried to
find a safe place to stop. Pulling over, I shut the engine off and got out of
the car only to be greeted by Amir with his hand out. “How can I ever re-pay
you?” he asked.
“You don't have to do anything but
take care car of the kid,” I responded while shaking his hand. I swiftly turned
and started walking away, hoping to get out of this hopeless country as soon as
possible. Before I went out of sight, I called over my shoulder to Amir,
“Though, a beautiful woman would be nice,” and I kept walking, listening to the
sounds of Amir laughing once again.
***
(Bean Trees and Friday Night Lights)
The long stretch of asphalt began to blend into the bright
horizon. A sign passed saying “Welcome to Texas,” which actually kept me from
zoning out due to the dull scenery. I was surprised that my car had made it
that far from Tucson. I hoped that Mama would be surprised when I came to visit
her. I noticed the radiator gauge fluctuating at a continuous rate. I watched
it out of the corner of my eye just to be safe. The last thing my 1955
Volkswagen bug needed was more issues. A strange sound was coming from under
the hood. A cloud of white smoke began to block my vision. I looked down and
saw that the needle was completely over the line towards hot. As I was putting
my focus back on the road, the car began to swerve. I gained as much control as
I could, but I ended up stopping on the side of the road.
After shutting off the ignition I stepped out of the car to
make sure no damage occurred. I walked around the other side noticing a flat
tire. I didn’t understand how that could have happened. At that moment a small
beam of light grabbed my attention and of course it was a chunk of glass wedged
into the rubber. Sighing in frustration, I plopped on the ground contemplating
on my plan of action. My train of thought was interrupted with the sound of
another car engine. I peaked from underneath my hair and saw a car approaching.
The person began to slow down as they came near. I stood up and saw a guy step
out of the car.
As he got closer he says, “Car troubles?” In the back of my
mind I thought he looked familiar. “Yeah, you can say that again. My radiator over-heated
and I’ve got a flat tire,” I told him. I could have sworn that I knew him from
somewhere, but I could not remember for the life of me. He asked me, “do you
have a spare?” I replied yes. Returning to his car, he rifled through his trunk
and pulled out a jack. He told me that we were close to town and could get a
container of water for the radiator there. As he unscrewed the bolts to remove
the tire, it finally came to me. It was my cousin Mike and I didn’t even
remember him at first glance. “Mike? Mike Winchell? It’s me Taylor...I mean
Missy Greer,” I said. He had the look of confusion, but then his memory
bounced back. “Oh, I’m sorry I barely recognized you. How have you been?” He
asked with interest. As he began to place on the new tire, we briefly
reminisced about our childhood. When he finished, we got in his car and headed
towards the nearest store to get some water.
“So
what have you been up to all this time,” I asked with curiosity. He told me he
played football for his school. He was the quarterback and even made it to the
semi-finals in the state. He accomplished more in his senior year than I did. I
found that impressive. “What have you been doing all this time?” Mike asked. I
told him the truth, “I ended up leaving home because I felt that was what was
best for me. I did not want to become pregnant and trapped in that town. Of
course Mama wasn’t happy at first,” I said. He nodded understandingly. After he
pulled into the convenience store parking lot, I went inside and purchased a gallon
of water. As I returned to the car, he backed out of the lot and headed in the
other direction.
On
our way to the car, I asked him what his plans were now that football and
school were done. He began by saying, “Who knows. I wanted to play college ball,
but that idea is gone out the window,” he sighed, “I’m not getting my hopes up
about it because the disappointment will hurt more if I’m counting on it.” I
sat there thinking that he does not think on the bright side. Based on what I
heard nobody told him to shut up and to make his own future. We finally reached
that old car. Mike grabbed the water and stepped out of the car. I followed
right after and popped the hood for him. As he poured the water into the
radiator, I decided to speak up.“You know if you want to be a college ball
player, you can be. If you want to be great at something, then do it. Don’t be
moping around about it. I ended up adopting a three-year-old girl. She was
thrown into my life without any warning. That was a challenge all by itself. I
met some people along the way too. Now, if I can do well enough to raise a
three-year-old, I think you can do football somewhere else. So just do it,” I
told him. He slammed the hood of the car and looked up in silence.
Mike
put the water in the back seat of the car and walked back to his. He
looked at me and said, “I guess you have a point. It hasn’t been put that way
before, especially the whole kid part of it. I'll think about what I’m going to
do.” I told him he better think about it. We exchanged goodbyes as we got into
our cars. He drove up to my window smirking. He said, “No more accidents now.
Drive more careful since you have a kid.” I turned my key in the ignition and
switched into drive. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” I said sarcastically. Mike drove
off into the distance as I did as well.
***
(Kite Runner & Bean Trees)
It
was a dull and rainy day in Arizona and people were filing out of the small
coffee shop as usual. The normal morning rush had emptied out and it was
that time of day where there were barely any customers around.
Taylor
was starting to grow bored of the slow business and decided to take a break;
she plopped herself onto one of the bar stools and glanced outside the window
hoping she remembered to close her car windows as the rain was starting to
downpour. Her trail of thoughts quickly became interrupted as a customer
rushed in. It was an Afghani man, probably in his mid thirties, and he
was shaking his head back and forth to dry off. He walked up to Taylor,
flashed a cordial smile, and took a seat one away from hers on a bar
stool. The man seemed eager to take off his damp jacket and warm up in
the coffee shop and Taylor hopped off her seat to take his order.
“Hello. My name is Taylor. What can I get for you today?” she
asked.
“I’ll just have a small coffee. Dark,” the man said, flashing one of his
friendly smiles again. Taylor smiled back and went to get his
order. The other employees were dozing off in the kitchen, taking full
advantage of the seemingly vacant coffee shop. She grabbed a mug and a
coffee pot and walked back out to the man.
“Here you go...” Taylor said enthusiastically.
“Thank you. My name’s Amir, by the way,” the man replied.
“What are you doing out here Amir? If you don’t mind me asking...” she
said.
“Not at all... I’m actually on my way home to California. I came
out here to visit a friend,” Amir told her and he continued, “As nice as
it is here I’m very much looking forward to getting home and seeing my wife and
son.”
“I have a daughter, Turtle,” she said excitedly, “she’s a little over
one. What’s your son’s name?”
“My son’s name is Sohrab. My wife and I actually adopted him,” Amir said.
“I adopted my daughter too. I mean it’s a long story actually...” Taylor
stated.
“Mine is a long story too.. But I have time. Want to share?” Amir
asked.
“Sure,” Taylor replied, “I guess I’ll go first. So basically a random
woman just handed Turtle over to me through my car window one night after I was
leaving a bar. I didn’t even know anything about Turtle but she was in
bad shape. She had been abused... I could tell that much. So
I knew I wanted to try my best to give her a better life.. Although, at
first, taking care of a baby was the complete opposite of what I wanted to do
in life, I don’t have a single regret and I’m grateful I have her in my life
today.”
“Wow. That must’ve been a lot to take on by yourself..” Amir said
genuinely, “Like I said before I too adopted. My son, Sohrab, was actually my
friend Hassan’s son. I went all the way back to Afghanistan and fought
for him. I actually almost died if it weren’t for him... Anyways my
friend and his wife were shot right in front of Sohrab’s eyes and he was taken
away by the man I fought, Assef. I could tell that, like Turtle, Sohrab
had been abused as well, and I knew that I too wanted to give him a better
life. So I adopted him and took him to America to have a safe life where
I knew I could provide for him and also be a way of fulfilling Hassan’s dying
wish.”
Taylor blinked back at him as she struggled for words. “That must’ve been
so hard to go through... It says a lot about you that you went through
all that for your friend,” she said quietly.
“It was actually more of a way I redeemed our friendship but yeah, it was hard
to go through...” Amir said. After saying this, a silence fell over both
of them as they were thinking about what they had both been through. But
yet again a customer rushed in and interrupted Taylor’s thoughts.
“I should go take her order...” Taylor said as she climbed off the barstool,
“It was nice meeting you Amir. I really enjoyed this talk.”
“It was really nice meeting you too,” Amir told her and he added, “Good luck
with Turtle.”
“Thanks,” she replied, “And good luck with Sohrab. Feel free to come back
to Arizona and visit anytime.” And with that, more customers started
filing in and Taylor had to get back to work. She quickly waved goodbye
to her new friend Amir and started to take orders. Just another day at
the coffee shop…
***
Her Majesty’s Secret Kite Runner
(On her Majesty's Secret Service & Kite Runner)
Dusk approached as Bond took a deep drag from the cigarette he held in his
hand. He had been telling himself for quite a while that he would kick
the habit, but that would have to wait for a less stressful point in his life.
At this point everything was all but okay; Blofeld had narrowly escaped
once again, Bond wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to quit the service after
all that had happened and on top of it all he had no idea where the love of his
life, Tracy, was. Bond kicked the butt of his cigarette and almost
instantly his phone rang. Knowing instinctively who it was, he answered
in his usual monotone voice.
“Hello?” Bond asked even though he knew perfectly who it
was.
“Good evening 007,” replied the familiar voice Bond knew was
his secretary, “We just received a great deal of intel on Blofeld’s
whereabouts.”
Surprised that HQ had tracked Blofeld this quickly, Bond
paused then replied, “Where am I headed to this time?”
“Kabul, Afghanistan,” stated Bond’s secretary.
“Okay,” Bond said, not even saying goodbye in his haste to
apprehend Blofeld. He had not the slightest idea what Blofeld would be
doing in a war stricken, middle eastern country, but there was no time to
think, he had to act fast in order to catch Blofeld.
* * *
Bond touched down in a remote area in Kabul with his private jet. This
place was a nightmare; military personnel were all over the place whom he
assumed to be none other than the ruthless Taliban. Orders were being
shouted in an Afghani tongue that Bond didn’t understand as the informants
rushed about furiously constructing barriers, road blocks and setting numerous
buildings ablaze. In all of the commotion it wasn’t hard for Bond to slip
around unnoticed. After carefully making his way past numerous guard
posts, Bond swiftly slipped down a dank alleyway where he noticed a boy in
distress, surrounded by three others slightly older than him. One drew a
switchblade and instinctively, Bond rushed to the boy’s defense. In one
swift motion he disarmed the attacker, knocking him out all at once. The
other two fled in utter fear.
“Are you alright?” Bond asked the young boy.
“Yes thank you for saving me sir.”
“It’s all in a day’s work,” Bond replied almost snidely,
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Amir.”
“Well Amir, my name is Bond, James Bond. Now that this
little incident is over, would you happen to know anything about what’s going
on here?”
“All I know is that these soldiers call themselves the
Taliban and they rule this place now with an iron fist. And a lot of
people keep talking about some guy by the name of Blofeld, but I don’t know
what he has to do with any of this,” explained Amir.
So Blofeld was here after all Bond thought to himself then
asked, “Do you know anything about his whereabouts?”
“I would guess your best bet is the palace in the center of
the city, you can’t miss it it’s the biggest building still
standing.”
“Thank you very much Amir, now take care I must go,” Bond
said in a professional tone.
“No thank you Mr. Bond for saving me.”
After a quick nod of recognition from Bond, Amir ran off
with what Bond now realized was a mangled kite in his hand.
