Growing Up Bin Laden - Jean P. Sasson [84]
Unaccustomed to his decisions being questioned, I braced myself for parental violence, but he did not raise his cane for once. Stern and unapproachable, he curtly replied, “You know not to question me.”
Truly I did not know what to think, although the restrictions had raised my boredom to such a level that I had little concern about my father was taking me. The trip was the thing, not the destination.
My brothers remained silent as he issued instructions. “Omar, do not pack. Do not take a toothbrush. Do not pack a comb. Only you are going.” He stood and turned away, motioning for our mother to follow him into her bedroom.
Mouth dry and head spinning, I sat like one paralyzed. I had been chosen! I was going away with my father!
My brothers glared at me without speaking, but I ignored their surly expressions.
I prepared my bedding and tried to rest. Who knew how we might travel? Knowing my father, we might leave Khartoum on horseback! Sleep eluded me as I speculated as to what the morning would bring. Where was I going? Would we return to Khartoum? If I could not remain in Khartoum, I wished to return to Jeddah, to a time when my father was a hero in the eyes of the world. Perhaps my father and the royal family had put their disagreements aside. Yes. Jeddah would be nice. Besides, our extended families were there, and despite my unhappiness as a schoolboy, there was a unbreakable link between our family and Saudi Arabia.
I quickly put that thought behind me, for I was not stupid and I had not missed the increased tension between my father and the Saudi royal family. Revisiting our past would not be possible as my father was convinced that he would be imprisoned in the land of our birth.
I considered other places my father might select as our new home. Were we going to move to Yemen? I knew that my father had many contacts there and it was the ancestral home of both my maternal and paternal families. I had never been to Yemen so I wouldn’t mind seeing it. Or perhaps we were returning to Pakistan? My father had built up a huge network of associates in that country, and knew that Peshawar had become an exotic refuge for many disgruntled Muslim fighters. I was not keen to live in Pakistan, as I remembered too well the poverty and the isolation I had experienced there. Other than Pakistan and Yemen, I could not imagine where we might settle.
After sunrise prayers, I was mentally ready to leave Sudan, although I suffered intermittent twinges of regret about what I was leaving. What would happen to our horses? Would they be abandoned, like so many of our horses in Saudi Arabia? How long would it be before I could see my mother? We had never been apart for any length of time. I loved my mother more than anyone in my life. My stomach churned at the thought of missing her daily presence, her calm demeanor, which brought peace to our entire family. When I said goodbye, I lifted her small hand into mine and affectionately brushed it with a kiss.
Her pretty face broke into a slow, sweet smile. “Take care, Omar. Go with God.” I took one last long look at my mother before turning to my siblings, who were standing nearby. In a rush to leave, I muttered a hasty farewell to each.
Chapter 14
Journey into the Unknown
OMAR BIN LADEN
Not knowing where I was going or how long I would be away, I followed my father’s every move. We were both carrying the customary Kalashnikov weapons across our shoulders, even though we were encircled by heavy security, with guards standing shoulder-to-shoulder until we were safely inside an SUV with blackened windows. When everyone was seated in their assigned vehicle, all the vehicles in the motorcade advanced at the same time. Picking up speed, the motorized procession sped from al-Riyadh Village with such haste that it was a miracle the lead vehicles didn’t strike down Sudanese workers unwittingly crossing the narrow roads.
My father was deep in thought, and exchanged no words with me on the short drive to the airport. Once there, we were whisked to a chartered Learjet.