Diamonds in the Shadow Read Free

summary?
There are no good guys?
    This made the refugee scene quite exciting. Jared's roommate would have a history of fighting and killing. On the other hand… how much fighting and killing did Jared really want in his own bedroom?
    The piece of paper describing this family finally circulated to Jared.
    On it were four black-and-white photographs that had probably been grainy and unfocused to start with. After much copying or downloading, they were so blurred that the four faces hardly hadfeatures. The photos were from the shoulders up, and everybody's hair was pulled tightly back, or else cut close, and as far as Jared could tell, these guys could be anybody. These could even be four photographs of the same person. There were dates below each photo, possibly dates of birth, but they were smudged and only partially legible.
    After close scrutiny, he decided that the two on top looked older. Probably the parents. The names typed under those photos (Typed! Not even done on a computer!) were Celestine Amabo and Andre Amabo. It seemed odd that they had French-sounding names. The photo in the lower left was labeled “Mattu” and the one on the lower right, “Alake.” No clues how to pronounce those names or whether the people were male or female.
    We are taking people under our roof for months at a stretch, thought Jared Finch. We can't read their dates of birth. We can't tell what gender they are. We can't recognize them from their photographs.
    We know in advance that they are not good guys.

I N LONDON, FIVE PASSENGERS CHANGED planes for New York City. The four refugees sponsored by Jared's church were seated at the front of the economy section. They did not speak to one another. They did not look at one another. They were separated from a fifth refugee by many rows. Now and then he walked down the aisle to stare at them. They did not look back.
    In Connecticut, Jared awoke almost sick with knowledge:
We should not be taking these people in.
    Jared did not say this to his parents. They would think he was selfish, racist and unwilling to share a piece of toast, never mind his room and his life.
    The Finches left ridiculously early for the airport. “After all,” said Jared's mother, “I-95 traffic might crawl along at thirty miles an hour, and we have to cross the Whitestone Bridge, not to mention parking problems.”
    They were using the church van, a vehicle Dad detested because it was unwieldy and had blind spots and a lousy radio. Mom rattled on and on. She was nervous. Even Dad was nervous. Dad traveled a lot and was comfortable in any situation, so his anxiety surprised Jared. Had Dad heard those words after all—
there are no
good guys?
Or was he working out the arithmetic of building a church addition without money? Jared thought the arithmetic was simple. No money, no addition.
    Or maybe Dad was thinking of Brady Wall, the friend with whom he had golfed, played tennis, watched football and raised kids. Was he imagining Brady in prison? Was he hoping Brady would really suffer? Or was he worried about Brady, trying to understand and planning to forgive?
    But Jared did not talk about important things with his parents. In fact, if something was important, the last people with whom he discussed it were his parents.
    His sister was so bouncy with excitement she needed the seat belt to hold her down. All Mopsy had to do was breathe and she embarrassed Jared. Now she was going to embarrass him in front of a bunch of African refugees.
    Jared took out his iPod.

    When the plane was about to land, all passengers were required to sit in their own seats, wearing their seat belts. The plane landed so smoothly that the four refugees in front knew they were on the ground only when some passengers cheered. The refugees had difficulty undoing their seat belts. The flight attendant had to help.
    Even so, they were among the first passengers off the plane.
    They had learned something on that first leg from Nigeria toEngland: it