Excerpt from Chapter VII: “Guten Tag,” he said in an official tone.
“Guten Tag,” my parents said together as the agent looked through our passports. He turned the pages of one booklet, scanning each page carefully, then flipped back to the first page.
“You’re not finding a visa because we don’t have one,” my father said.
What? I wanted to call out. My mind began to race faster than my heart.
“We’re seeking asylum,” my father said calmly.
The young agent continued to stare at my father; it made me feel we were the Von Trapp family, in the middle of a cathedral cemetery, at the mercy of Rolph’s dilemma. Finally, the agent called out to one of his colleagues to take his position and waved for us to follow him. From the second-floor glass window, we could see the reunited families on the other side of Passport Control. A tall man in a navy jacket and chapeau stood below, alone, looking up in our direction. It’s him, I thought, Pari joon’s brother.
And suddenly, she was there too, her voice washing over me like a wave, her chant as loud as the announcements that were flying over the speakers.
I dive into ‘We Insist’ and become one with the cello beats, my heartbeats..the urgency, the moment.. linking us to our fate.
Thank you Zoe!