Home Fire

Isma Pasha is detained at Heathrow airport, prior to her flight to the United States. Even though she made  sure not to pack anything that might raise flags (a Quran, family pictures, books for her research), the security officer looks through every item of her clothing. She notes Isma’s nice jacket, commenting that it must not be hers (because it is too expensive).

Isma says that she used to manage a dry cleaning shop, and her jacket was donated by a woman who didn’t want it anymore because it was stained. The officer asks how Isma went from managing a dry cleaning shop to starting a PhD program in sociology. She explains that she had to put her academic plans on hold after she finished college, when she had to take care of her 12-year-old siblings following the death of their mother, Zainab.

Following the search of her suitcase, Isma has an interview with a second officer, who asks her, “Do you consider yourself British?” and repeats the question when Isma affirms that she is British. The interrogation continues for nearly two hours. Isma answers the questions compliantly, having practiced just this scenario with her sister Aneeka. Eventually, she is released when the first officer walks in and confirms that the U.S. had in fact approved Isma’s student visa. Isma thanks “the woman whose thumbprints were on her underwear, not allowing even a shade of sarcasm to enter her voice.”

Isma misses her flight due to being detained, and a Muslim woman in customer services finds her a place on the next flight out. When she arrives in Boston, she expects a repeat of the interrogation in London, but the immigration official only asks a few questions. Isma’s mentor, Dr. Shah, picks her up from the airport, and Isma texts Aneeka, assuring her she made it through no problem. She feels the promise of a new beginning, on New Year’s Day 2015.

Ten weeks later, Isma is settled in a studio apartment in Boston, glad to be immersed in her daily life of reading, walking, and writing. One morning, through her skylight, she notes a parachutist descending from the sky. She heads to her favorite café to get to work, and she opens Skype out of habit to check if Aneeka is online. Instead, she sees her brother Parvaiz is online. She is shocked; she hasn’t seen him online since he left in December. Isma wonders if he’s trying to contact her, but he doesn’t call. It is hard for her to think of him “without adjectives such as ‘ungrateful’ and ‘selfish’ slicing through the feeling of loss.” Then his name vanishes.

Isma misses Aneeka deeply. Even though, as twins, Aneeka always relied on Parvaiz to talk to, she had always come to Isma for physical comforts like a hug or a back rub. And when Isma was forced to take care of the twins when they were 12 years old following the deaths of their mother, Zainab, and their grandmother, Aneeka was also there to support her sister in turn.

Around midafternoon, a young man (Eamonn Lone) walks in, and he looks “stomach-turningly familiar” to Isma. She recalls a photo from the 1970s in her uncle’s house of their neighborhood cricket team. Her uncle had told her that the young man holding the trophy (Karamat Lone) in the photo had only been visiting his cousin and they had invited him to play. Though he had done little, he ended up holding the trophy. That’s how they knew he would be a politician, and sure enough was recently elected to Parliament.

Later that day at her uncle’s house, Isma overheard her grandmother saying that Karamat had recently been cruel to their family. Now, Isma thinks that the young man who walked into the café must be his son, because they look so alike. His name is Eamonn, “an Irish spelling to disguise a Muslim name—‘Ayman’ become ‘Eamonn’ so that people would know the father had integrated.” She also notes that his Irish American wife, Terry, is another indicator of his integrating.

Eamonn waits at the counter until Isma walks over to explain that the counter to order is upstairs. He thanks her, offering to get her another cup of coffee, and she is surprised at his very posh accent, which is different from the “class-obscuring London accent of his father.” When Eamonn returns, Isma asks how much she owes him. When he says five minutes of conversation, she offers for him to walk to the supermarket with her.

On the walk to the supermarket, Isma learns that Eamonn recently quit his job with a consulting company and is taking some time off. He has chosen to visit his maternal grandparents in Amherst. Isma notes that he is charming, but that he might be making a show of his manners. After the supermarket, they take a walk through the woods  together. They primarily make small talk, but “the Englishness of his humor, and his cultural references, [are] a greater treat than she would have expected.”

Eamonn then asks Isma more personal questions about her life. She explains that she grew up in Preston Road, in North London, with two younger siblings, Aneeka and Parvaiz. She never really knew her father, Adil, and was raised by her mother, Zainab, and grandmother before they died seven years earlier. She has recently started a PhD program, fully funded, with her former tutor, Dr. Shah.

Eamonn then asks if Isma’s turban is “a style thing or a Muslim thing?” She says that some people have asked if it’s a chemo thing. He responds, “Cancer or Islam—which is the greater affliction,” but immediately admits the error of the joke and apologizes. He says he only means that “it must be difficult to be Muslim in the world these days.” Isma replies, “I’d find it more difficult not to be Muslim.” She is surprised that Eamonn doesn’t even remotely identify as Muslim, even for political purposes. They say goodbye, and Eamonn does not shake her hand, simply saying, “Thanks for the company. Perhaps we’ll run into each other again.”

Aunty Naseem, a neighbor back in Preston Road with whom Aneeka is living, calls Isma and asks her to check on her sister. Aneeka has been staying at her friend Gita’s place while Gita has been living with her boyfriend. Isma doesn’t like this idea, as “Aneeka had always been someone boys looked at—and someone who looked back.” Isma had always relied on Parvaiz to tell her if Aneeka needed some sense talked into her, but now that relationship is gone.

Isma calls Aneeka, who assures Isma that she’s fine but that it’s easier being on her own. Isma wonders if she’s lying, again remembering that Aneeka and Parvaiz used to tell each other everything—until they discovered what Parvaiz had done when he left them. Aneeka had been shocked, unable to understand how he could keep secrets from her. Isma had an easy answer: he is “his father’s son.”

Isma then mentions that Parvaiz reappeared on Skype, but Aneeka says that if they talk about him they’ll fight. Aneeka says only that Parvaiz messaged her, saying he was okay. Isma is angry that he didn’t give her the same message, but she diffuses the situation by saying that she misses Aneeka. Aneeka asks Isma to stay on the line until she falls asleep, and Isma tells her a story that she used to tell Aneeka as a child, about twins who could talk to animals. Isma stays on the line after Aneeka falls asleep, listening to the sound of her breathing.