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Refugue in regression


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Cameras clicked and whined in their shuttered cases. It was inevitable the press had cramped the terminal building today, a child refeguee granted asylum had just arrived in the country, the first. To date Japan had donated almost half a billion in aid to refugees of the civil conflict but government had made no commitment towards an asylum policy. Outside the cavernous terminal hall both activists and protesters had gathered. The Turkish Airlines flight had arrived but the child was late.

Eventually a frighten girl of 13 was seen clutching the arm of aid workers with both of her own skinny arms. They crossed the terminal without comment.

Her name was Jael Kahteb. Everyone kept telling her she was lucky but she had wet herself during the flight and was wearing clothes from the 'lost and found'. She had been told she was going to meet a foster parent. This was not immediately true, she spent a day in a Japanese hospital first, being given health checks and immune boosters before gladly being allowed to fall asleep again after the very long journey.

The next morning she was taken to stay with her foster parent.

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Jay Morrison was surprised to find that he was going to get a foster child, but then he found out just what foster child they meant to give him.

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Jael shook her head at the adult's mispronunciation of her name, he had fused the two syllables, spoken separately. "Ya-el" she repeated for him phonetically.

Jay spoke too quickly for her but she grasped the essence of his question. She furrowed her brow for a second, wondering how to phrase her answer, then she remembered she had been given a booklet to give to Jay. She pulled her backpack onto her lap and found the folder

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Jay nodded.

"I'm going to study this folder of yours, if you'll hand it all over to me, and so I can get acquainted with your customs, and then we will talk again about what you agree with and what you want to do.

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Jay looked up at her after reading the file: (Please add anything you want to pass on that the state would know about her now).

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In Muslim culture at was disrespectful to relieve oneself either facing or with ones back to Mecca but in practice people were forgiven for sins they weren't aware of. Not that Jael ever actually thought about this, or would have cared given her desperate situation.

The close confines of the toilet closet reminded Jael of a camp latrine, although it didn't smell bad and had a proper ceramic toilet rather than a sort of box over a pit in the ground. She sat down and relieved herself whilst inspecting the damage to her clothes and underwear. She concluded she would have to take them off.

After she had finished urinating She looked around for toilet paper to clean herself with. She couldn't see any and there wasn't really anywhere it could be hiding. But she did spot the cardboard tube from as used roll.

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Jael returned to the step by the door where her bags and little black shoes were. Leaving her shoes at the door was actually something she did at home by habit anyway, there were even some public places where you were supposed to take your shoes off but it was always obvious because there would be rows upon rows of pigeon holes at the entrance to such places. One time, she had returned and found her shoes stolen and cried for them. Her father had carried her back through the street to their car, do that she didn't hurt her feet. As he held her, he

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Jael did something surprising and stuck out her tongue. "We have washing machines in Syria!" she laughed, wondering what absurd way Jay might have imagined they washed clothes, "but I know how to wash clothes using a basin too. In my city, sometimes the bombing would cut the electricity out. And in the refugee camp we had no machines." Of course Jay was also right to be concerned about Jael meddling with a machine she didn't understand. When she saw it later, she realized it had more settings than she was used to and digital screen she had never seen before and she couldn't read the Japanese labeling.

"I'm not supposed to eat pork, it is bad." she confirmed hoping that didn't bother her host. She smiled at his counter offer, "Yes please, I like chicken." she supposed to ask for Halal chicken but she knew that not all the food she had been eating in the camp was Halal, in hard times a person had to be thankful for whatever they could get. She mentally debated whether or not in this case, assuming the meat was not Halal, if she was supposed to politely refuse the chicken and eat only the rice. That was probably what a holy man would do but she wasn't a holy man, she was a hungry girl and she didn't wish to offend her host. She decided that the right thing to do was to accept what was given to her and if she wanted to practice her religion, she could always buy or request Halal meat for herself if she was given a chance to visit a market.

"You are from America? That is cool!" There had been American's at the refugee camp. Doctors, nurses, a man who collected the garage in a large truck to take to landfill. Jael had chatted to them sometimes because she spoke English and asked about what America was like. She knew she would have lots of unfinished questioning in store for Jay.

She looked around the simple room she had been told was to be where she slept, she was grateful she would be given privacy but she blushed whenever Jay brought up an inevitable and embarrassing issue.

"Um... yes... I wet the bed sometimes. I'm sorry. I can't help it." there wasn't really much more she could say. As much as she would have liked to, she knew she wasn't going to magically start having dry nights every night. "If it happens. I promise I can clean up in the mornings."

Once her blush had subsided she had another question.

"Jay? What is futon?"

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"okay." Jael forced a smile. She had been told such things before but it never really a salve for her disappointment.

Jay showed her the futon. There was a lot of information to take in. She watched observantly as he went through the process of folding away the table and then folding out the various parts of the bedding. Jael was attentive and nodded every time she was asked if she understood, she felt did. It sounded like sleeping in the futon was going to be a novel experience but she would discover it for herself when it was bed time.

The mention of 'TV' brought a genuinely big smile to Jael's dimpled cheeks. She hadn't watched a television show in a long time. "I would very much like that!" she declared, in a statement which she had probably appropriated from an English period drama. Then her usual serious expression resumed as she checked herself and she asked, "Or, I can help you in the kitchen? I know how to clean and cut and cook things." at least on the provision those things were humanitarian rations. She hadn't cooked much with her mother, whom liked to have the entire kitchen to herself when she was working with it. Her aunt had shown her how to make some special Turkish things though and had felt more passionately that Jael should learn to cook. Jael's own mother than always insisted doing homework was a greater priority,

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Jay was going to tell her that she's a child and should just be a child, but then he realized that she probably wouldn't understand much on TV anyway since he had no cable, and at the moment, while he doubted there was much in the way of violence on TV, she would likely not find anything that entertaining on.

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"What would you like me to pick up?" Jael asked as they entered the kitchen. She scanned the counter tops and floor for obvious litter, misunderstanding Jay's meaning of the phrase and taking it literally. She cocked her head when Jay tried to explain the concept to her and then when it was clear there was no work for her to undertake, she obediently sat at the table where he indicated, and watched him prepare the meal.

"I used to like drawing..." Jael replied and then shook her head, she refused to speak further on that subject for the time being because it carried a bad memory with it. "Um, I like to play games outside with other children. I liked spending time with my friends. I like going on holiday to the seaside or the village in the mountains, that was great! When the weather is too bad to go outside I like to read. What things do you like?"

"Seven years?" she hadn't been thinking about how long she would be staying in Japan. For her, that time span was just over half of the years she had lived, it seemed huge. "Will the war be over in seven years?" she asked. Jael had no longing to return to her country but she did imagine she might want to return at some point in the future and reconnect with her family and friends.

She felt sad thinking of those she had left behind. What had happened to them all in the years they had been apart. What if she returned and there was simply nothing left, just a country in pieces.

"Will I be Japanese, if I stay that long?" she asked curiously. That might be a positive, maybe she should be thinking of this not as exile but a chance to rebuild her life.

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For a while nothing was heard except for Jael's pitiful sobbing inside the cupboard. Then the screen slide open an inch and Jay got a glimpse of the red eyed girl inside.

"I'm sorry too." she said quietly. "I'm sorry for shouting. I got upset because I don't more people to die and suffer... It's too much. It hurts."

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