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I aboriginal met Riyad Alkasem one afternoon in January 2016, aback I pulled up to a restaurant in a Tennessee band mall, tucked bottomward the artery from gun shops and allurement shops, below a assurance that said Café Rakka. This, I’d been told, was area I’d acquisition the best Arabic translator in Middle Tennessee. I’d aloof alternate from one advertisement cruise to the Syria-Turkey border, and I was gearing up for another. In between, I bare addition abreast my home in Nashville to advice me abode buzz calls to an Arabic-speaking source. A acquaintance at The Islamic Center of Nashville acicular me against Riyad.

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That day, we alleged my source, and I watched Riyad action aback tears as the three of us discussed the war disturbing afar his homeland, the bodies who believed they were affronted to anatomy a bigger Syria than the one Riyad had years beforehand larboard behind. Afterward, he took me to a table. We sat. He summoned two cups of amethyst tea and aerial plates of shawarma and baba ghanoush. Assuredly I asked the abandoned catechism on my mind: What was a restaurant called afterwards Raqqa, Syria—a burghal afresh accepted as the “de facto capital” of ISIS—doing actuality in Tennessee?

His acknowledgment unspooled over abounding hours that day and for several years afterward. Abundant of it centered on his accord with his adolescent brother Bashar. Amid them, they represented two adventures of immigration—those who leave home in chase of a brighter future, and those who leave because their aboriginal home has become unrecognizable.

In the years aback I met him, I accept alert accounting about Riyad for The Ringer. In the deathwatch of Donald Trump’s 2016 election, I wrote about Riyad’s clearing acquaintance in America. He’d collapsed in adulation with the country from a academy classroom in Aleppo, area he’d been agape by the American Constitution, by the means this country promised its bodies that they could authority base leaders to account. He confused actuality assured wonders—which he found, alongside bigotry, bouts of poverty, and an aching anxious for his aboriginal home. Still, in America he’d congenital a family, a business, a life. Alike afterwards Trump was adopted while able to accumulate bodies like Riyad from entering this country, Riyad still said, “America is the abandoned home I have.”

Then this April, I wrote about Riyad for The Ringer aback his apple afflicted yet again. COVID-19 was overextension beyond the country, adverse the restaurant business. I told the adventure of Riyad’s struggles to adjudge whether to accumulate his restaurant open, and about the adventures of his employees—many of them immigrants from Ecuador or Mexico or Jordan, all of them basic what Riyad calls, “my new tribe.”

In amid those two pieces, I wrote a book, out July 21, that tells the adventure of Riyad and his brother Bashar and their family. The Road From Raqqa chronicles Riyad and Bashar’s aberrant journeys out of Syria—and aback to anniversary other. While Riyad larboard Raqqa as a adolescent man, pulled by the affiance of addition nation, Bashar remained, anchored by the abundance of ancestors and home, until ISIS overtook the burghal and the American-led affiliation began to bomb it, banishment him to leave.

The extract below tells a allotment of Bashar’s story. It’s from a moment in aboriginal 2013, aloof afterwards Raqqa has collapsed from administration ascendancy into the easily of the rebels. Bashar has aloof sat bottomward to supper with his family, digging into plates of aliment and olives, tomatoes and cheese, aback all of a sudden, the ancestors hears a blast, and they feel the apple below them activate to shake.

Your aboriginal bombing could be anything. That was how Bashar came to anticipate of it in the years to come. Aback it hits, some allotment of the academician says it’s no added than a car blast aloof alfresco the advanced door. Or maybe a architecture actuality burst for new construction. The apperception tries to acquaint itself quick, abating lies.

This bomb accustomed loud and angry, abashed bank and apple and bone. Bashar froze. Beyond the table, his ancient daughter, Jenan, accomplished for her grandmother and yelped, while his adolescent daughter, Wajid, active her arch in the anatomy of her mother and screamed. The arena befuddled for addition breach second, and now Bashar’s wife, Aisha, was screaming, too, and for a moment Bashar and his mother let the abhorrence beat them, and now the girls saw that the adults were afraid, all of them, in a way clashing annihilation they’d anytime seen, and so their agreeable and arrant grew until it captivated the absolute room.

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After a few seconds, the allowance was abounding with dust, article annoyed advancement by the appulse of the explosion, ascent from the apple to the air and through windows and doors into their home, their eyes and lungs. They coughed. They wiped their eyes and their noses and coughed some more. And then, for a few seconds, silence. Now the apperception played catch-up, acumen that this was not some accident, not some fluke, but the babble of an apparatus advised to kill, article abandoned adjacent that had conceivably dead some added family, aggregate about some added table in some added home.

At atomic that was how it formed for Bashar. For his children, benightedness still served as an inhibitor of greater fear.

“What was that?” asked Jenan.

Bashar rushed to accord an answer. One of the lies the apperception tells now anesthetized from his academician to his aperture to his daughters’ ears. “They’re accomplishing construction,” he said, and this was correct; technically, there’d been architecture all over the burghal for months. “A architecture fell down.” The added adults nodded, and Jenan nodded too. It articulate comforting. It articulate true.

He absolved them from the table, beatific them with their mother into addition room. “Watch TV,” he told them. “Turn the aggregate all the way up.”

When they were gone, Bashar’s astronomic anchored her eyes on his. “So,” she said, “what are we activity to do?”

She knew already that they bare to strategize, that they lacked the affluence of spending addition additional overtaken by fear. But Bashar wasn’t abiding what to do. He was antagonism to action the absoluteness of what he’d aloof felt. His burghal was beneath attack, austere by its own government. Bashar knew it. This had to be President Bashar al-Assad’s Syrian Arab Army, bombing either to balance the burghal or aloof to get revenge. Bashar assumed, for the moment, that the bomb had abandoned a few anxiety from his doorstep. Abandoned afterwards that day would he acquisition out that it had hit a mosque, appropriate abutting to an old bastille that had been acclimated as a affair point for insubordinate soldiers, about a kilometer from their home. He affected they would wait, see how things developed, afresh adjudge how best to proceed.

“Remove your emotions,” his astronomic said. The attending on her face showed that she’d already done aloof that. “You charge to accomplish every accommodation wisely.”

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Bashar nodded.

“They are aggravating to anesthetize us with fear,” she continued. “Don’t let them.”

Soon they absent power. The lights went out. Bashar spent the afternoon abandoned in his study, belief abhorrent options while his daughters played, all of them aggregate calm in the dark.

So this was war. Finally, afterwards their burghal had remained peaceful two years into their country’s conflict, Raqqa began to acquaintance what its citizens had heard so abundant about. Living beneath a absolutism had been one thing. They’d connected ago abstruse how and aback to allocate the all-important bribes, how to accumulate their air-conditioned in a country area cronyism was adored and adamantine assignment generally ignored. Bashar had fabricated himself a adept of never adage the amiss thing, never aggravating the amiss person, befitting his complaints to himself. This was how he’d thrived in the country his brother Riyad had larboard behind.

Surviving a war, though, presented an altogether altered challenge. For so long, the war had seemed a abroad thing, accession abandoned in the tales of the internally displaced, the men and women from Deir ez-Zor and Homs, who’d been expelled from their homes and abounding Raqqa’s abandoned buildings, bringing with them belief of neighborhoods flattened, innocent women gunned down, accouchement who’d witnessed horrors that would leave them consistently changed. And now with the actual aboriginal bombing, Raqqa would abide these horrors too.

Bashar arrested in with accompany and neighbors. Most were afraid, some beneath so, but all absurd that anon the administration would acknowledgment to accost Raqqa. While his brother Riyad hated Assad and thirsted for revolution, Bashar’s animosity were added complex. He’d been blessed with his activity in Raqqa, alive as an advocate and adopting his family, alike beneath absolute rule.

That night added explosions arrived, this time in the anatomy of Scud missiles, bombs shaped like massive acicular pencils, launched from the arena and ripping holes through the sky. Canicule passed, and the battery continued. Sometimes the ancestors knew to be ready. Conceivably administration soldiers had been murdered in adjacent cities, afflictive anger. Or conceivably rebels had been inching their way against a administration stronghold, cartoon rebuke. Or maybe addition had apprenticed through the arid and apparent a Scud launcher acicular at their city. Phones rang. Men ran from home to home, shouting warnings: Take cover. Now.

They would blitz beyond the street, area their accessory had a basement that could be acclimated as a bomb shelter. They went time and again, whenever they heard the hum of an aeroplane overhead, until, afterwards two days, they absitively the apartment wasn’t account the hassle. Abide abundant bombs, run afraid abundant times, and eventually the agitation itself becomes exhausting. Sure, they could run. Or they could stay. But afterlife could acquisition them anywhere. It was amazing how bound alarm angry into resignation. In their homes, in their shelters, or in between—it didn’t amount area they were. As connected as their burghal remained beneath attack, any day acquainted like the day they could die.

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Bashar told himself the burghal would settle. Probably. Eventually. The administration would prevail, and he would aces up his old activity again, as an attorney. He would accomplishment the exams he’d been demography to adapt for judgeship, ascendance assuredly to the bench. If the administration didn’t succeed, though, afresh the new occupiers would acceptable anatomy new courts. And the way things were going, it looked like those courts ability be congenital absolutely about sharia law. Attorneys accomplished in Syria’s civil arrangement would be beheld as threats. It didn’t amount that Bashar was a adherent Muslim, that he spent his Thursdays in adherent brainwork aloof to adapt for his Friday prayers, that he’d lived a activity so pious that accompany generally teased him, nicknaming him “Sheikh.” None of that would amuse the fanatics, he knew. Nothing would. So for at atomic a time, he would accept to accord up his acknowledged practice. Canicule ago he’d been advancing to become a judge. Now he wasn’t alike an attorney. He had added identities, though. He was still a ancestor and a husband. He was still breathing. This was still a life.

And yet he had to accede that he ability be wrong. This activity ability abound untenable. If it did, he’d accept a few options. They could abscond for a administration stronghold. Conceivably Latakia, the Alawite-dominated burghal on the Mediterranean coast. Or maybe alike to Damascus, a burghal that had bugged him anytime aback he’d lived there while confined in the army decades ago. As a aftermost resort, conceivably they’d accept to abscond the country. He couldn’t brainstorm this, acquainted abashed to alike accede the possibility. Leaving Syria’s borders would beggarly giving up on a approaching for his homeland. But his brother Kasem had carved out a activity for himself in the Gulf, and Keith had activate assurance and aegis in Sweden. And afresh there was Riyad, all the way in America. He knew his earlier brother capital to accompany the accomplished ancestors beyond the Atlantic. He capital Bashar to assignment in his restaurant, Jenan and Wajid to abstraction in American schools.

Bashar could brainstorm this, sure. But for now they would stay. They would wait. They would adumbrate during bombings, and he would authority his daughters aback the missiles flew. This was their home. No government or insubordinate army could bisect the Alkasem family’s affiliation to this land.

It was accepting backward in the day. Dinnertime approached. Sometime afterwards that, he absurd one or two added bombings would come. He had been sitting in his den—his all-inclusive accumulating of books had consistently been his ambush for analytical thinking, actuality transported by stories, or artlessly biconcave into the adorableness of words. Now he stared at the words but did not apprehend them. Instead, he took a moment to allow his own agitation while assuming to read. His daughters would never apperceive the difference. But anon he smelled his mother’s affable and rose to acquisition out what she’d made.

On his way to the kitchen, he heard a beating at the door. He fabricated a move to acknowledgment but saw that his little sister had baffled him to it, scurrying out the capital aperture and into the courtyard, all the way up to the gate. Anon he heard a squeal, and for the aboriginal time in canicule it was a complete not of alarm but delight. Bashar poked his arch out the door, and afresh he saw him. Riyad.

This allotment has been agilely edited to fit the extract format.

From the book The Road From Raqqa: A Adventure of Brotherhood, Borders, and Belonging by Jordan Ritter Conn. Copyright © 2020 by Jordan Ritter Conn. Published by Ballantine Books, an banner of Random House, a analysis of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

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