Spirit of a Mountain Wolf Read Online Free Page A

to find the man who had stopped him on the road sitting outside talking to her. She had her shawl over her face. Poor Mrs. Daud—she had always worn a burqa if she ever ventured outside, but it must have disappeared with her house.
    “Ah, here he is,” the man said when he saw Razaq.
    “Assalamu alaikum.” Razaq said it slowly. The man must have followed him home yesterday. What could he want? Should he stay with Mrs. Daud during the day as well?
    Mrs. Daud smiled at him. “Mr. Ikram has a good proposition for you, beta.”
    Razaq stood looking at her.
    “Sit down, beta.” She motioned to the mat beside her. She was stirring chai in the saucepan over the fire. She wouldn’t have any herself since the fast hadn’t yet broken for the day; she must be making it for the guest.
    The man Ikram spoke. “I’ve been telling your mother about taking you to the city. A good-looking boy like you can get a job and send money back to her.”
    Razaq waited for Mrs. Daud to say he wasn’t her son, but she kept stirring the chai.
    “What do you say, sahiba?” Ikram asked.
    Mrs. Daud smiled to be addressed as a lady. “It is a good idea.”
    “There is nothing here for him, is there?” Ikram said.
    “But I bring her food,” Razaq cut in. When was she going to say she needed him? “How will she get that herself in the lines? The men with families always push in first.”
    Mrs. Daud turned to him. “He will give me money.” Then she smiled again. “Lots of it—three hundred rupees.”
    Razaq was shocked into silence. It was obviously more money than she had ever seen, but it wouldn’t help her build a house. The food was free at the moment, but it wouldn’t always be so and the prices would rise. And what if he didn’t get a job straight away?
    “That won’t last long,” he said eventually.
    It was as if Ikram could read his thoughts. “I know where you can get a job immediately,” he said. “Then you can start sending money home. You can find your uncle later.”
    “It is very generous, beta,” Mrs. Daud said. “He need not give me anything at all.”
    Razaq frowned. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go yet, and why should he go with Ikram? “I can go by myself when I am ready,” he said.
    “But I know where the job is,” Ikram said.
    Razaq thought he sounded irritated. Then Ikram reached for his money and held it out to Mrs. Daud. Razaq stared at it resting on Ikram’s palm. As soon as Mrs. Daud took it, his destiny would be sealed.
    “Think about this more,” Razaq implored her.
    “I have thought enough.” She reached for the money. “You need to make your own way, beta.”
    Even in that moment he wasn’t sure what meaning she put on the word
beta
. Did she still think he was her son? He wished he could talk about this in private with her—she wasn’t thinking carefully. Had she considered what the nights would be like without him? How would she fight off tent stealers? He had a squirmy feeling in his gut. He stared at the money in her hands as she counted it. Yes, it was generous of the man, but for some reason, he felt bought.
    “We should go now,” Ikram said.
    “Now? Can’t I say good-bye to my friends?”
    “A jeep is leaving in a few minutes to take us to the bus. We cannot miss it—there are so few buses running up here at the moment. Get your things.”
    Ikram’s voice had a sudden ring of authority, and Razaq frowned as he went into the tent. He already had on his father’s sandals, his knitted vest, jacket, and his pakol, his lambswool hat. He slipped the purse with its one hundred and twenty rupees into his pocket and bundled a shalwar qameez that Karl had given him into a plastic bag. When he emerged, Ikram stood up.
    “It is a great tragedy here, but I am glad I can help one boy find a future.”
    Mrs. Daud smiled at Ikram. It was the happiest Razaq had seen her since the earthquake.
    He didn’t even have time to tell Abdul and Hussain to keep an eye out for Mrs. Daud, or to