Twisted Truths & Leveled Lies
Page 23
CHAPTER 25
We drove around the countryside for almost an hour. He wasn’t taking me anywhere that I could get away from him and find help. I had to find a way to get him to take me to the town I had seen when we were up on that hill.
“Could you drive through the town with the little markets please?”
He looked in the review mirror and shook his head. “Miss, Mr. Osan does not want you out shopping unless he or Mr. Miguel is with you.”
“I know. I just want you to drive through. I would love to see the people, watch them through the car windows, and point things out to Josiah.”
Somehow the young man had a soft spot for my little boy. Maybe he knew his days were limited and felt sorry for him. But when I mentioned Josie’s name, he smiled and nodded his head like it was a good idea.
“I think we can do that. I can also show him where I live and he’d probably like to drive by the temple to see the big gold dome too.” He was getting excited about it now.
Good, that would give me a chance to find someone, some place to go for help. Wasn’t there a U.S. Embassy in each country? But what were the odds of finding one in a small town near where we were? Probably not high.
We drove through the outskirts of town as he pointed out different things. Josie looked out his window, eagerly listening to the driver tell him all about different landmarks. Finally able to see the markets I’d witnessed from the hill, and driving further through the town, I realized it was actually a large city. Lifting my hopes of finding help, I continued to glance around, desperately looking for anything familiar. What caught my attention the most was how everyone was dressed. The men were primarily dressed in slacks and dress shirts, but almost every woman I saw had scarves covering their head or hijabs on. I hadn’t realized that Peru had a large Muslim population before. Then again, I didn’t do much research before we came, since I knew we weren’t planning on sight seeing. That would explain Osan’s views on women, and more specifically, America.
I had friends who were Muslim, and knew that the majority of them were no different than I was. They were great people, with inspiring traditions, and I loved them no less than any of my other friends. I didn’t know if Osan was Muslim, but even if he was, I knew I’d never blame the group itself. It was no different in any culture, religion, or nationality. There would always be a handful of fanatics who made the larger group look bad. No, I would find the individuals who were responsible for what was happening to Josie, and I would make them pay. I just had to get Josie to safety first.
Looking down at my jeans and a button up shirt, I would definitely stand out if I were to enter the crowds, especially without a scarf to cover my head. It was too late to worry about it now. I would have to move fast and pray that someone would help us.
We had been driving around the city for the past forty-five minutes. There were people everywhere and it was hard to navigate the car through the streets at times. Yet, even with this many people around us, I didn’t see anyone or anywhere that I could go for help. I was certain that most of the people in the markets would not speak English and was growing increasingly more anxious that he would turn around and take us back to the house at any minute.
“So where do you live?” I asked, trying to keep his tour going.
“I’m going to take you by the temple and then we’ll drive over to my place. It’s not too far away. Is he doing okay back there?”
“Oh, yes. We’re enjoying this so much. Thank you. It’s hard to stay inside for so long.”
“Yes, I can imagine it would be.”
I could see the dome of the temple through the window, it appeared to be a mile or so away. The buildings around us looked like they were more for businesses then shopping, but it was the weekend and I doubted many people were inside. Turning the corner, I noticed a small restaurant that resembled a fried chicken restaurant in Chicago. The sign was written it Arabic or something that used odd characters I couldn’t read. I remembered seeing a sign near our house in Chicago with similar writing, but never asked what it was. But wow, that sounded good. Not that I wanted to eat at a time like this, my nerves would never allow that. It simply reminded me of home.
“Stop the car!” I yelled, trying to portray that something was wrong.
He glanced in his rearview mirror, but wasn’t stopping.
“You have to stop now! Hurry! I think he’s going to be sick.”
That got his attention. He whipped his head around, frantically searching for a place to park. I’m sure my words made him worry that Josie might throw up all over the spotless vehicle.
Unable to find a place to park, he stopped the car in the furthest lane, next to a row of parked vehicles. I didn’t give him a chance to get out first. Throwing my door open, I jumped out, grabbing Josie and our bag, as I began running toward the KFC look-a-like.
“I’m going to take him to the bathroom in there. Park the car and meet us inside.” I yelled over my shoulder, trying to dodge between cars and motorbikes.
Before I got far, a siren went off behind us. Slowing, I turned to see a police officer near the car. He was pointing, telling the driver that he couldn’t park there and had to keep moving. Yes, thank God for little miracles.
I didn’t wait to see what happened, I took off and ran as fast as I could. People were staring at the strange woman who was racing across the road and down the sidewalk with a bobbing little boy in her arms. The men looked amused at first, then started giving me the same look that Osan gave me, the disgusted bewilderment in their eyes telling me that I didn’t belong there.
I didn’t stop at the restaurant. I turned the corner, rapidly moving further into the city. I had no idea where to go, I only knew we had to get away from the driver. A few turns later, I couldn’t breathe and my side was killing me. Coming to a stop beside a small convenient store, I struggled to catch my breath, as I tried to decide what to do. Josie was looking at me like I was out of my mind, amused with his mother’s running.
“Hold on little guy. Mommy’s gonna find us somewhere to go.”
He didn’t reply, but started glancing all around us. Following his gaze, our eyes settled on a big white tent. I couldn’t have been more proud of him. He found an American Red Cross site.
“Good job, Josie! Let’s go.” Taking a deep breath, I leaped from the curb, and ran across the alley.
There was sand and garbage everywhere. I jumped over boxes and papers that were strewn across the ground, hurdled over a broken chair, and ran toward the tent. As I got closer, I slowed my running, trying to catch my breath again. Taking a quick look around to see if the driver had caught up, I didn’t see anyone, and hoped he went into the restaurant and waited outside the bathroom for a few minutes before realizing what I’d done.
Approaching the doorway of the tent, which was formed from two large flaps being held back by rope, I saw a few workers who wore red, Red Cross polo shirts and khaki pants. They were handing out bottles of water and pamphlets of paper. On the wall was a sign written in English and Arabic, stating that this was a free cooling center.
I walked up to the counter, panting still, and asked if I could to speak to someone in charge. The lady eyed me curiously. I was dripping with sweat, unable to breathe, and I’m sure my continual glances behind me to see if we were safe were not going unnoticed.
“Are you okay?” She asked suspiciously.
“No. Please, I must hurry. Is there someone here who could help me?” My hands were trembling. The moments leading up to this were catching up to me, and I was beginning to panic. I didn’t have time to wait. I needed help now. My boy needed this thing out of him! Dear God, please don’t let this happen. Please!
“Come with me.”
She must have noticed my hands when I moved them to brush Josie’s hair. They were shaking like I was going through withdrawal. Or maybe I prayed out loud. Whatever the reason, she decided that I needed the help I was begging for, and gave me a sympathetic look.
We walked up a couple steps and she opened a door to a small aluminum trailer. The cold air that rushed out when we entered felt wonderful. I should’ve grabbed one of the free bottles of water when we were back in the tent, but it was too late for that now.
The first room was completely empty. No chairs, nothing. She walked to the back of the trailer, and knocked on a door. I followed behind her, praying the entire time. I didn’t think the driver would find us now, but I didn’t know how much time I’d have until Osan and Miguel found out.
“Come in.” A man’s voice called from inside the closed room.
“You go in, I have to get back out to the tent. I’m not sure what is wrong, but this would be the man who could help you, if anyone can. He’s a great guy.”
I smiled, attempting to show her my gratitude. “Thank you.”
“I hope everything works out for you.” Her voice sad, she probably thought I was running out on my husband or something. She was only half right. She had no idea that what I held in my hands could not only kill my baby and me, but her and, most likely, everyone else around us.
Nervously entering the room, I shut the door behind me. He didn’t ask me to, but I wanted to make sure it was private if I decided to tell him what was going on. Sitting on the other side of an old metal desk was a good-looking man who appeared to be in his early thirties. He had wavy dark blond hair, and about two days’ worth of a light brown beard. He wore the same Red Cross shirt, but his nicely framed his body, with part of a tattoo slightly visible under one sleeve.
Setting his papers down, he looked up, and grinned. He had a nice smile. He wasn’t good looking like Miguel, who had model-type looks. He had a rough, bad boy look to him, with a contrasting smile that appeared sweet and innocent. Any other time I would’ve enjoyed looking at him, but right now there was no time for such things.
I had been so preoccupied with how to escape, I hadn’t planned ahead to think of what I’d say when I finally had someone in front of me. I stared at him, trying to formulate my words.
His gaze flitted over my face. “Hi, what can I do for you?” His deep voice carried a hint of a southern accent. He sounded kind, and put me more at ease.
Still unsure of what to say, I opened my mouth and let it out. “My name is Mel. My son and I need to get to a US Embassy now. We don’t have time to wait. Our lives are in danger. Actually, a lot of lives are in danger.”
Yep, crazy lady alert. I’m sure he thought I was nuts, but I didn’t care. He was my only hope at this point.
“We don’t have much time. I need to get out of Peru and get back to the U.S. I need to tell the embassy what’s happened. I need help.”
My lips started to quiver when I mentioned needing help, but I took a deep, calming breath and waited to see if this man could, or would, help the crazy lady in front of him. He studied me like he was trying to figure out a puzzle, his blue eyes looked confused, but soft with compassion.
Sighing, he stood and grabbed a bottle of water from his desk, quickly bringing it over to me. The cool air had helped ease the sweating, but my hair was already plastered around my face from the wetness. The water looked fantastic.
“Here, drink this. I don’t know what you’re sayin’ exactly, but for some reason I believe ya.” He looked from me to Josie. “He’s your son?”
“Yes, I have our passports if you need to see them, but we really need to move fast. Can you please help us?”
I was relieved he said he believed me. He might not be so understanding when I told him the whole story, but right now, it looked like he was going to help. That’s what was important.
“Nah, I’ll grab my stuff and we’ll head over to the embassy. It’s an hour drive from here, but I’ll getcha there. I was actually about to head over there. There’s a contractor I needed to meet with today. It’s not far outta the way anyhow.” He grabbed a cell phone off his desk and moved toward the door. “By the way, name’s Brett. Brett Caveleri.” He seemed very relaxed, and even though I had said I had to hurry, I’m sure he thought I was just being dramatic. I didn’t care what he thought, as long as I made it where I thought we could get help.
I smiled and let out a long breath I was holding in. We were going to go to the embassy. I just prayed they could help us. Brett moved quickly and led the way outside to an old white Toyota that was parked behind the trailer. The small, two-door car was covered in dirt and dust and had dents everywhere. It didn’t look like it could make it around the corner.
“Don’t worry, she runs great.” He winked, his lips turning upward in a little grin.
“Thank you, you have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
Holding Josie in my lap, I kept an eye out the window, as Brett began backing out onto the road. Looking for the long, black car with tinted windows, I didn’t see anything similar. It would be easy to spot since most of the cars were small and dirty, and there were more motorbikes driving around then anything, but I still checked every alley, every driveway we passed.
Noticing Brett watching me inquisitively as he drove, I turned my head, surprised by the concern in his eyes.
“I’m sorry. When my driver realizes that I ditched him, he’s going to be looking for us. I can’t let him find us.”
“It’s cool, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He didn’t seem surprised. He just looked worried.
We drove in silence for about ten minutes. Once we hit the country roads, Brett turned toward me again. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together as he bit the side of his lip nervously. “Can you tell me something?”
“I’ll try.” I said softly. I wasn’t sure how much to tell him. I didn’t want to risk him stopping the car and forcing us to get out to keep himself safe.
“Why’d you say y’all needed to get out of Peru?”
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question. Looking past the tough-guy persona, the compassion in his eyes convinced me that he needed to know something. He deserved that much.
“My husband and I came here six weeks ago. He grew up in Peru and has family here. My son had to have back surgery and the doctor we chose to use was leading a training seminar here for three months, so we came with him. We wanted to do the surgery now instead of waiting for him to return. Some things have happened…bad things.” I paused, trying to decide how to word it.
Leaning toward Brett, I whispered, “My son will die if we don’t get him help today.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. “Well, no pressure there, huh?”
At least he had a sense of humor during stressful times.
“But I need to tell you something, Mel.”
He needed to tell me something?
“Okay?”
“You’re not in Peru. We’re in Afghanistan.”
If I weren’t already sitting down, I would’ve fallen over. How could that be? Afghanistan? We boarded the plane, we left for Peru, we’d been here for over a month now.
Then it all came back to me. The flight, the doctor giving me a drink, and what I heard before I passed out, “Our location is not…” They knew. Everyone knew I thought we were in Peru all this time. Miguel. Miguel knew and never told me. That must have been part of the reason why I was never allowed out of the house.
If it weren’t for the little boy in my arms, I’d want to die right now. Everything I thought was real was a lie.
“I’m sorry, you okay?” Brett glanced at me, more worried then before. He had no idea what was going on. “You’re extremely pale and don’t look so good. Why’d ya think you were in Peru?”
I had nothing else to loose. I told him the whole story, trying hard to keep the hysteria I felt out of my voice. I even told hi
m about Josie, the pictures, the files, everything.
He looked skeptical. So, I pulled out the pictures and some of the papers, passing them to him as we drove down the dusty road.
Flipping from one picture to the next, his jaw was clenching and unclenching as he studied them. I began worrying that he’d decide to kick us out of the car to save his own life.
Unable to handle the silence, I spoke softly, “If you don’t want to drive us any further, I understand.”
I couldn’t force someone else to put their life in danger. What if he had a family back home? I wouldn’t do that to them.
Handing the pictures and papers back to me, he shook his head.
“No, Mel, it’s not that,” he said sternly, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “I just… I can’t believe it. I mean, I believe you. I can’t believe people would do such a thing. I’ve seen some horrible things here, but never imagined it would come to this.”
He turned and looked directly at Josie, who was now sleeping on my lap. His little blond hairs were lying across his forehead. He looked so peaceful. Brett sighed and returned his focus to the road.
“Thank you, Brett.”
“I haven’t done anything. I can’t do anything. I want to help ya, Mel. I want to fix this, but all I can do is drive this damn car, and hope like hell that someone will listen to us when we reach the embassy. I had no idea something like this could happen. We don’t even have goddamn phone service out here on these roads. Fuck!” He yelled, slamming his hand down on the staring wheel.
Josie jumped, but didn’t wake up. I looked at the man next to me with wide eyes. I was surprised that he cared, but even more surprised he was worried about Josie and not himself.