Huda and Me H. Hayek (reading fiction txt) 📖

and bolted towards the gate. I caught up with her on the street.

‘Gimmie the passports and the credit card,’ she said. ‘I have library class today, so I’ll be able to use the computers to book the tickets.’

I took our two passports and the credit card out of my pocket. I wasn’t sure this part of her plan was a good one. But before I could say anything, she snatched them out of my hand and shoved them into her own pocket.

‘You look stressed out, brother.’

‘Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?’ I asked her.

‘Damn tootin’ we’re doing the right thing. You saw Raheed! He’s as happy as ever. Pineapple Head loves him! She won’t do anything to hurt him, even if she finds out what we’ve done.’

She was right. Everything was going well, but I still felt sick. And Huda could tell.

‘Listen, buy yourself a nice lunch order and an icy pole today with some of the money in your bag. I took a hundred dollars to do the same. Mum and Dad would want that.’

She gave me a quick pat on the back and then ran ahead of me down the path towards school.

Touchdown in Beirut

Huda squeals and claps her hands together.

‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we’re actually about to land in Lebanon,’ she says.

The silvery sparkles of the Mediterranean Sea startle me when I glance out of the window. It’s so shiny and the blue so bright that it’s hard to believe what I’m staring at. The sea seems to go on forever, wrapping right across the world’s curve.

I pull my eyes away from the window and scan the cabin. Miss Rosetta is sitting up ahead in the middle of the plane, facing us, with her seatbelt on.

‘As soon as this plane lands, we gotta bolt,’ I tell my sister. She isn’t listening, though. She’s still staring out the window.

I grab her shoulder. ‘Oi, listen.’

Huda jolts and looks at me. She blinks her eyes a couple of times to focus on my face.

‘When we land, we have to run. They’re not going to let us leave if we don’t have Mum and Dad waiting for us at the airport. Grab your stuff as soon as the seatbelt sign is off and follow me.’

The plane lowers itself to the ground and bobs up and down a few times until we’re shooting down the runway.

‘Get ready,’ I say. Huda nods.

The plane begins to slow and then stops. Miss Rosetta unbuckles her seatbelt.

‘Welcome to Beirut,’ our pilot announces. ‘It’s a warm, sunny evening, with a high of twenty-nine degrees. Please stay seated until the cabin crew have unlocked the safety doors and the seatbelt sign is switched off. Thank you again for flying with us.’

Huda clutches her backpack to her chest.

DING. The seatbelt sign turns from orange to grey.

Flipping my bag onto my back, I grab my sister’s wrist and pull her into the aisle. It’s already packed. Almost everyone is standing, trying to reach their bags. There’s no time to queue, though; no time to wait our turn.

‘Make way, make way! Excuse me!’ I push myself forward, holding Huda’s wrist tightly.

Mum would be so disappointed with me cutting the queue and pushing past people to get to the front. I elbow my way through until we’re almost at the doors of the plane. Then I see Miss Rosetta. And she sees me. She’s standing at the exit of the aeroplane, thanking each passenger as they step into the corridor that leads to the airport. Blocking our path to freedom.

‘Excuse me, children! Take a seat! You cannot disembark the aircraft without being escorted to your guardian by a member of the flight staff. It’s a matter of security.’

I think she’s trying to say that someone will have to walk us out to meet our parents.

Miss Rosetta narrows her eyes and presses her lips together. She points to some seats beside her. ‘Sit here and wait,’ she snaps. Then she looks up and smiles her fake smile at the people behind us. ‘Thank you for flying with us. We hope to see you again soon.’

The passengers move past us, someone grumbling something about annoying kids.

Huda tugs hard at my sleeve. ‘What do we do? We’ll be sent back.’

‘Like I said, we need to make a run for it,’ I whisper into my sister’s ear.

Before either of us can think twice, I charge at the door. Huda charges behind me, screaming like she’s going into battle.

Miss Rosetta stops fake smiling and flings her back against the wall of the plane. Her arms fly up, like she’s about to be arrested on one of those cop shows. Her mouth dangles open in shock.

My sister’s screaming gets even louder as we bolt past her. I’m just grateful she doesn’t try to block our path. I hear the beep and static of a walkie-talkie behind us. And then I hear Miss Rosetta screech into it.

‘CODE RED. TWO UNACCOMPANIED MINORS HAVE ESCAPED.’

We thunder through the corridor like a couple of elephants who’ve escaped from the zoo. The sound of running footsteps echoes behind us, but we make it to the end of the tunnel just as glass doors slide open.

I brace myself, like when I’m taking my final big breath before jumping into a pool. We leap through the open door and into the airport. It’s as if we’ve been sucked into a massive wave and spat out into an ocean full of humans. I grab Huda’s hand as people shove and push and rush around us. I can barely see my sister, but our outstretched hands cling to each other. The air smells thick, not like Melbourne. Body odour shoots through my nose. The noise from the overhead speakers, buzzers beeping in the background and people talking all around me makes my head spin. I can’t make out a word, but I know it’s not English.

I grip my sister’s hand harder. As hard as I can. But