by Emma Easter
Audrey laughed and said, “Yes, we will need lots of that, won’t we, Ken?”
Ken shook his head and chuckled.
“As long as I can get to see Bryan every day, I will be alright,” Sienna said and then beamed when Bryan turned and grinned at her. Frank also turned around and Trisha smiled affectionately at him.
Faizan looked at his sisters and their husbands and couldn’t help smiling with joy. They all looked so happy and in love with each other.
The drive back to the camp seemed faster than the drive to the airfield. The driver parked the jeep at the edge of the camp and Faizan told his brothers-in-law to wait inside the jeep since the women would not be very comfortable having so many men come into their camp.
Women and children milled around the camp and Faizan exhaled. He grinned at his sisters as they stepped out of the jeep. They hugged and kissed their husbands and then carried their luggage out of the trunk.
Faizan frowned in confusion as a few women called out his name and ran toward him, yelling. At first, he could not make out what they were saying, and then Sherifat got to him, panting, and said, “Zainah has given birth, Faizan. She had a beautiful baby girl.”
Faizan’s jaw dropped and he froze for a few seconds. And then he ran toward the tent he shared with Zainah, his heart pounding.
He got to the tent and before he entered, he looked back and saw his sisters had followed him. He was grateful for their presence and asked them to come inside with him. He took a deep breath and entered.
Zainah was half-asleep on their sleeping rug. He felt a sob rise in his throat. A small bundle was wrapped in a blanket in her arms. He went to her, overcome with emotion, and sank to his knees as he gazed at his baby, their baby. He kissed Zainah on the lips and then his gaze returned to the baby in her arms.
Zainah opened her eyes and smiled at him. “You’re here, Faizan,” she said. “Thank God. We have a beautiful baby girl.”
He nodded as tears filled his eyes. “Yes, we do.” He went to wash his hands in a washbowl in the corner of the tent and then went back to Zainah. He gently picked up the tiny bundle and lifted her into his arms. He looked into her face and gasped as an overwhelming love flooded him. His heart ached at how much he loved this tiny bundle, how much he wanted to protect her from every evil in the world. He kissed her forehead and then her soft cheeks, and said softly, “I cannot believe you’re mine. I love you so much, little girl.”
He bent down and kissed Zainah again and then brushed back her hair from her face. He said, “Zainah, my sisters are here to see you.”
Zainah slowly sat up and turned to look at Audrey, Trisha, and Sienna. They immediately surrounded her and gently hugged her. And then they surrounded Faizan and cooed at the baby in his arms. Their eyes were moist, especially Audrey’s.
“She is gorgeous,” Trisha said.
Audrey smoothed her fingers over the baby’s hair. She looked at Faizan and then at Zainah with tears in her eyes. “What will you call her? Have you picked out a name for her?”
Faizan looked at Zainah and smiled. “We both agreed that if we had a girl, we would name her after my late mother and her precious mom. So, her name is Isabella Zainah Gardner.”
“That’s a lovely name, Faizan,” Audrey said softly.
Sienna and Trisha nodded and Faizan smiled. Audrey was gazing at the baby with such a look of longing that Faizan’s heart went out to her and he could not help but tell her she would soon have her own baby.
Audrey gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Faizan,” she said.
After a while, his eyes widened, and he said, “I have forgotten about your husbands. I need to go get them to the men’s camp.” He bent down and kissed Zainah. He felt reluctant to leave her. “Will you be okay while I am gone?”
She nodded. “Yes. Besides, I have your dear sisters to keep me company.”
He smiled and then straightened. He gazed at Isabella, now in Trisha’s arms, and bent his head to kiss his baby on the forehead.
It felt so surreal that he was now a father. He made his way out of the tent and looked back once more at Zainah, who he loved with everything in him, and then at his precious sisters, and, finally, at the little baby who had stolen his heart. He smiled as a deep sense of contentment washed over him. This was what he had always wanted growing up—a large, loving family. Now the Lord had blessed him with one. He left the tent whistling happily.
Chapter Seventeen
Malik walked slowly to the bus station with his shoulders sagging. Khadija walked beside him. He had done everything he could to find Leila, asked everyone around if they knew where she was, but no one did. He didn’t know what to do or where to look for her anymore. The only thing left was for him to go back to his farm. Not only had he not found the woman he loved, but he was going to an empty house with no hope of a wife or mother for Fanta.
They got to the bus station and Khadija followed him into the building to buy his ticket. After they bought it, he wheeled his suitcase behind him out of the bus station terminal. He went out to wait for more passengers to come to the bus station.
Khadija put her hand on his arm and said, “Malik, I’m worried about you. For Fanta’s sake, please try to put away your despair. It will all work out for you in the end. You’ll see.”
Malik sighed and mustered up a smile for his younger sister. He was glad for her company but her words did little to lift his spirits. “Thank you, Khadija. Please take care of Fanta for me.”
Khadija smiled. “I will. When will you come back to Nira again, Malik?” she asked him.
“I’m not sure, but I will try to come back soon.” He grimaced as he remembered how sad Fanta had been when he told her Hauwa would not be her mother anymore because they were not getting married. “That means I will never have a mother,” Fanta had said, her eyes sad.
Malik had not known what to say to her. He’d simply hugged her, while his heart broke for her and for himself.
A small bus near him soon began to fill with passengers as the driver called out the name of the small town where he now lived. Malik turned to Khadija and gave her a big hug. “I guess it is time to go,” he said, sounding despondent.
Khadija pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Please take care of yourself, Malik. And keep praying and hoping.”
Malik shrugged. Prayers did not work. He had even prayed to Leila’s Jesus, asking… no, begging for help in finding Leila, and promising to surrender his life if Jesus helped him find her. But his prayers had not been answered. Now he was going back without Leila.
Malik waved to Khadija as he stepped away from her and began to make his way to the bus. After the driver had put his suitcase into the trunk, he got into the back seat and closed his eyes as he settled in.
As the bus moved away from the station, he sighed sadly. If only he could sleep now so he could forget about his failure in finding Leila and block out the pain in his heart. Why was he still so consumed with thoughts of Leila after all these years, anyway? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
He opened his eyes to look out the window but the people who sat on both sides of him were blocking his view. He shut his eyes again and willed himself to fall asleep. He knew that sleeping now would only delay the pain he would continue to feel once he got back to his farm and to the house where he would live alone.
A cool breeze drifted in through the window, lulling him to sleep. As he thankfully began to drift off, words from the conversation the two men on his left were having sparked his curiosity. He opened his eyes and listened carefully to what they were saying. The more he listened, the more curious he became.
“How does that trader manage to go to the desert and come back with so many beautiful rugs?” one of the men asked.
“I have no idea, really. He just told me he goes to some remote camp in the desert where only women live. Those women are the ones who weave those beautiful rugs. He goes there once a month, purchases the rugs, and then sells them at h
is shop for exorbitant prices. I am very sure the women sell those rugs cheaply to him, but see how expensive the one I bought from him that other day was.”
Malik frowned. Leila told him many times about the camp in the desert where she and Zainah had lived for years. She’d also told him how they wove rugs there and sold the rugs to some people who came to collect them from time to time. Could these men be talking about the same camp?
He turned to the men and apologized for interrupting them. “I was just curious about your conversation,” he said. “I am looking for beautiful rugs to buy and I was wondering if you would tell me where this trader who sells all those rugs is, or better yet, where the camp in the desert is?”
One of the men said, “We don’t know where the camp is, but we do know where the trader is. We are actually going there now. You can come with us if you like.”
Malik’s heart began to race. Was it possible that God had actually answered his prayers? Was the camp these men were talking about really the camp where Leila lived? If it was, that would be a miracle and an answer to his prayers.
He began to pray as the bus drove on and the men continued their conversation. He prayed earnestly, but to Leila’s Jesus, since it seemed it was him leading the way to her. Malik prayed and asked that the trader these two men were going to take him to truly did go to the camp where Leila lived to get the rugs. He remembered clearly the prayer he had said some days ago—that he would give his life to Jesus if his prayers were answered. He would do anything to find Leila, and if Jesus actually answered his prayers, it was definitely worth giving his life over to him.
The bus passed Dogon. Just before they entered the small town where he now lived and where his farm was, the men told the driver to stop. The driver did and the men got off the bus. Malik followed them out and after their suitcases had been brought out from the trunk of the bus, the bus drove away again.
Malik looked around him. He had passed by this town many times on his way to and from Dogon, but he had never paid any attention to it. It was a pretty small town with nothing remarkable about it; it was just like the town he now resided in.
The men said nothing as they carried their bags and crossed the road. Malik crossed the road after them and continued to follow as they made their way along a clear dirt path. On both sides of the path there was nothing but trees and shrubs. Soon, however, tiny huts and small houses began to appear. Malik wondered where the men were taking him as they walked on. Hopefully, I’m not being kidnapped, he thought cynically. In his mind, however, he did not really care. The risk was worth it to find Leila.
They passed several huts and houses, and then came to another road; one with cars passing by. It surprised Malik. The road seemed to be a major one. He’d had no idea that there was a major road on the other side of this town.
They walked on the side of the road until they came to a one-story building with sliding glass doors. Malik could see through the glass windows and doors. Rugs of various styles, colors, sizes, and shapes were displayed. He followed the men into the building. Inside, there were rugs everywhere.
A boy of about eighteen walked up to them and the men greeted him warmly.
“Where is Sadiq?” the men asked the boy.
“He’s upstairs with a visitor. Let me go and tell him you are here.” The boy looked briefly at Malik and then turned around and left.
The men continued to talk while Malik looked around the shop. He had the money he’d taken from his house before he came here. There were so many rugs here. Since his house was empty, he might as well buy one or two... or maybe he would wait and buy some when they went to that camp. He doubted, though, that the trader would give him the information he needed about the location of the camp without him buying a rug or two from the store.
A middle-aged man and another man about Malik’s age strode toward them, and the two men who had brought him here raised their voices in greeting.
“You are both here!” the man around Malik’s age said as he reached Malik and his two companions. The older man walked out of the store and one of the two men said, “We want to buy new rugs and we brought someone else along with us who wants to buy rugs as well. I hope you will give us a discount since we brought more business for you.”
The trader turned to Malik and gave him a bright smile. “Welcome,” he said. He waved his hand around the store and said, “You can choose any rug you want. We have a wide variety here.”
Malik was not particularly interested in buying a rug now, but he headed toward the long line of brightly colored rugs to his left while the trader and the two men followed. Malik looked from one rug to the other while the trader entered into a lively conversation with Malik’s two companions. They bargained back and forth about the rugs the men had apparently picked out before now. They finally settled on a price and the trader called his teenage assistant and told him to get the rugs for the men.
When the boy brought the rugs wrapped up in plastic, the men turned to look at Malik and one of them asked, “We are through here. Should we wait for you or will you find your way?”
“I will find my way. Thank you both so much.”
The men spoke with the trader for a minute more and then left the store.
“So, my friend,” the trader faced Malik, “have you found a rug you like?”
Malik said to him, “Not yet. Maybe you can help me pick one.”
The man nodded. “I can do that. What is your budget and how big would you like the rug to be?” He pointed at a rug hanging on the shelf. “This is our biggest size.”
Malik said, “These rugs are very beautiful. Where do you buy them from? Those men I came with told me you get them from a camp somewhere in the desert.”
The trader frowned deeply. “So, you don’t want to buy a rug from me, eh! You want to cut out the middleman, is that it?”
Malik sighed and said, “I want to know exactly where the camp is because there is someone who lives there I am looking for. If you can point the camp out to me or take me there, I will buy at least five rugs from you.”
“It’s good you want to buy many rugs from me,” the trader said. “But I cannot tell you the location of the camp. I am sorry. The people who live there trust me to keep the location of their camp to myself.”
Leila had told him that the camp consisted of Christian women who had either fled or had been chased out of their towns and families because of their faith. They had lived away from the world for a long time without telling anyone where the camp was just in case hostile family members or people from the past came to harass the inhabitants of the camp, or worse. Malik had to think fast or he would lose this opportunity. He said, “Just as I told you, I know some of the women in the camp.”
The man stared incredulously at him.
“There’s a woman there named Zainah. She’s my sister and her husband’s name is Faizan.” The man’s eyes grew big and Malik added, “The name of the leader of the camp is Miriam,” He remembered clearly the name of the woman Leila had told him acted as the head of the camp. “Lastly, the woman I love lives there. Her name is Leila. She is the one I am really looking for. We lost contact some time ago but I need to find her... and my sister as well.”
The man put up his hand up and said, “Ah, why didn’t you tell me all this before?” He gave Malik a huge smile. “I have to be careful so I don’t lose my business with them by just giving out the location of their camp to anyone. They are quite secretive. However, since you are either related to or know half of the people in the camp, I will take you there myself.” The man laughed at his supposedly witty words, and Malik mustered up a small smile.
“You will?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you so much,” Malik said, almost hugging the man. Joy filled his heart. He had expected the man to just give him directions to the camp, but taking him there was way better.
The man said, “I will be going there in a month, so...”
“A month!” Disa
ppointment settled over Malik. Why had he even thought the man was going to take him there now?
The man knit his brows and said to Malik, “Yes, a month.”
“Can’t you take me there tomorrow?” Malik asked.
“I am sorry, but I can’t.” The man said to him. “Besides, the place we are talking about is far from here. It’s about a two-day journey.”
Malik did not want to wait for a month. He said to the man, “Can you give me directions to the camp so I can set out immediately?”
The man chuckled. “You will never find the camp. And I am not even sure I can give you directions, as there are really no landmarks on the way there. I can only point you to the nearest town and still that will be a day’s journey. After that, you will be hopelessly lost.”
“But a month is too long for me to wait.”
The man shrugged. “That is when I am going. I’m sorry.”
Malik sighed and then told himself to be still. He had been looking for Leila for some time now; waiting for a month would not kill him, nor would Leila suddenly vanish within that time. At least he had some hope of finding her now. He prayed in his heart to Leila’s Jesus, asking that he would see Leila at the camp when they finally went there. There was a possibility that she’d left the camp.
He smiled in self-mockery. Since he’d begun his quest to find Leila, he had been praying a lot to Jesus. Considering the fact that he had not yet seen Leila, that was saying a lot of prayers to someone he wasn’t completely sure was God. But his mind was open to the possibility now.