Transition

by Henry Charles Mishkoff

  “I want to see her. Take me to her.”

  Karnaga holds up his hands. “I understand your impatience, Mr. Kendal, but I am afraid that I must insist that you wait here. Even though the operation appears to have been completed, I cannot allow any civilians into the house. She will be out here in a moment, I assure you.”

  Although Karnaga’s mood seems to border on the jovial, G.W. senses that it would do no good to press the commander any further. He glances down at Sunshine, who has closed her swollen eyes. The nurse who kneels by her side continues to rinse them with a wet cloth.

  G.W. lowers his voice. “I think Sunshine might need to see a doctor,” he says. “I don’t claim to be an expert or anything, but I think she might be in a mild state of shock herself.”

  “She has been looked at, Mr. Kendal,” Karnaga says, reassuringly. “And we will attend to her again just as soon as we can. It is simply a matter of triage, the doctors are attending to the most seriously wounded first. Miss O’Malley seems to have run into some tear gas, which is painful – as you know – but not especially serious from a medical point of view. I suspect that she is mostly exhausted from her ordeal. And possibly in a mild state of shock, as you say. She will be looked after.”

  G.W. leans toward Karnaga and lowers his voice to a near whisper. “She tells me that she shot this guy Akaso.”

  Karnaga nods. “That is consistent with what my men tell me. She was still holding the gun when they found her. She was sitting on top of him. There was no one else in the room. He had been shot through the head. We started the assault when we heard the shot. We assumed that the hostages were in danger from the terrorists.” Karnaga smiles sardonically. “It seems, however, that it was the other way around.”

  G.W. looks away. Suddenly, he’s very tired. Since I last slept, he thinks, my daughter’s been kidnapped – and rescued, I hope. And I killed a man. And Sunshine was raped and abused by a disgusting, perverted slimeball. And she killed a man, too.

  It’s been a long day for all of us.

  A steady stream of soldiers is walking into the clearing. Some are carrying stretchers. Some are nursing their own minor wounds. Some are just milling around aimlessly, talking to their comrades. Most of the wounded appear to be soldiers, although G.W. spots a few who, judging from their non-military dress, appear to be terrorists. The soldiers, G.W. notices, seem to be receiving considerably more attention from the medics than the terrorists. At least one of the wounded terrorists is female, reminding G.W. of Anna Q’Bara, of putting the gun to her head, of pulling the trigger as she cried and screamed in terror…

  G.W. shakes his head sharply. I guess it’ll be a long time before I get that image out of my head, he thinks. I just hope I don’t dream about it. It’s been enough of a nightmare already.

  More than a few of the figures lying on stretchers – or, in some cases, on blankets on the ground, or on the bare ground itself – seem to be dead. One or two of the dead are soldiers, but for the most part they appear to be terrorists. One of them, lying not far from G.W., is a chubby boy who can’t be more than sixteen years old. Half of his face is missing. G.W., almost beyond shock, merely shakes his head and sighs.

  And then he notices that a soldier is proudly parading a prisoner into the clearing, his rifle pressed firmly into his captive’s back. The prisoner’s arms are handcuffed together behind his back, and he’s looking the other way as he enters the clearing, but something about him catches G.W.’s attention, something about that bald head looks familiar…

  And then the prisoner turns and looks directly at G.W., and his eyes are twinkling with a familiar sparkle…

  5.3.12: Aqevina

  “Karnaga!” The commander is deep in conversation, and G.W. has to shake his arm to get his attention. “Karnaga, that’s Sunshine’s friend over there. That bald guy with the beard. He’s her ‘guru,’ or something like that.”

  “Are you certain?” Karnaga beckons with a wave, and the soldier who is leading Nathan through the clearing prods him toward where G.W. and Karnaga stand.

  “Of course I’m certain. Shit, he flew over here with me.”

  “What is he doing here?” Karnaga is clearly puzzled.

  “Well, shit, commander, I don’t claim to be a genius or anything, but I’d guess that he was kidnapped, too. Didn’t your crack intelligence people even know that he was missing?”

  Karnaga is aggrieved. “We were hardly in a position to survey the entire population of Qen Phon, Mr. Kendal.”

  “Well that’s just dandy. Maybe a couple of other athletes were kidnapped that we don’t know about yet. Maybe your men already shot some of them. That’s just dandy. Good morning, Nathan.”

  “And another fine morning it is, too, Mr. Kendal.” Nathan beams. He seems to be only marginally concerned, if at all, that he’s handcuffed and that a soldier is poking a rifle into his back. “I am pleased that you are here to share it with me.”

  “Karnaga,” G.W. says, disgusted, “will you tell your man to take the goddamn handcuffs off and get that fucking gun out of his back?”

  The commander is plainly confused. He looks at Nathan, then at G.W., then back at Nathan, who smiles at him genially. Finally, he speaks to Nathan’s captor, who responds tersely.

  “My sergeant says,” Karnaga explains, “that he found this man tied up in a closet.”

  “Well, shit,” G.W. says, “maybe that should’ve given your sergeant a clue that the man was a hostage instead of a terrorist, don’t you think? I’m surprised that your goddamn sergeant didn’t shoot him just to make sure, smart man that he is.”

  “There is no need for sarcasm, Mr. Kendal,” Karnaga bristles. “My men were told that the only hostages were two American women. This development was entirely unforeseen.”

  “Fine,” G.W. says, tiredly. “Great. Okay. But now that we know about it, do me a favor and have your sergeant take the handcuffs off him, would you? I imagine that Nathan’s already been through enough for one day, don’t you think?”

  Karnaga frowns. Something is not right, something that he can’t quite put his finger on.

  “Miss O’Malley,” Karnaga says. Sunshine has risen to her feet and is staring at Nathan, the most curious look… “Miss O’Malley, is what Mr. Kendal says true? Do you know this man?”

  For a long moment, Sunshine says nothing. Poor girl, G.W. thinks, she’s been through so much.

  Just as Karnaga is about to repeat the question, Sunshine speaks: “Yes,” she confirms, quietly. “I know him.”

  “Jesus Christ, Karnaga,” G.W. says, angrily. “Can’t you just admit that one of your people made a mistake?”

  Karnaga glances at G.W., then at Sunshine, who continues to stare flatly at Nathan, then at Nathan, who returns his gaze with a bemused smile. Finally, Karnaga shrugs and barks a quick order at the sergeant who, though obviously reluctant to relinquish his prize, slowly unlocks Nathan’s handcuffs.

  “I apologize for this inconvenience,” Karnaga says. “Please understand…”

  “No apology is necessary,” Nathan says. “There is nothing to explain.” He smiles and inclines his head toward Karnaga in what appears to be a half bow.

  Warily, Karnaga returns the gesture.

  And after a similar nod at G.W., Nathan turns and ambles off slowly, calmly, into the confusion that fills the morning.

  5.3.13: Aqevina

  “She refuses to let us carry her. She says that she can walk by herself.”

  The doctor sighs. Americans are such difficult patients! The people of Qen Phon, when you tell them to stay in bed, they stay in bed. But Americans insist on resuming their routines just as soon as it’s physically possible, whether it’s advisable or not. Some foolish equation of sickness with weakness, as if being ill was an admission of failure.

  And now this girl, the American athlete, obviously in a state of shock, refuses to accept any assistance or advice. I’m okay, she keeps saying. Leave me alone, I’m okay. The soldiers tell me that th
ey had to struggle with her just to slip a gas mask over her head. Hardly surprising.

  “Did you explain to her,” the doctor asks, “that we only want to carry her as far as the ambulance? Did you tell her that there is broken glass everywhere? And splinters? Which could easily pierce those rubber-soled shoes she wears?” I wish my English were better, he thinks. Obviously, the girl is being obstinate – but nonetheless, I lack faith in the accuracy of this soldier’s translations.

  “Yes sir, I have explained that to her several times.”

  “And what does she say?”

  “She says that she is not an invalid, that she is not in need of our assistance. She also says something about being disqualified if she accepts our help.”

  Disqualified?

  “Tell her that the race is over,” the doctor says. “Tell her that she has won. Tell her that we would like to place her on a stretcher so that we can carry her to the first aid station.”

  After exchanging a few words with Jillian, the soldier shakes his head. “She says again that she is not in need of a stretcher. She can walk to the first aid station.”

  The doctor sighs. I suppose that I will have to give her something that will relax her, he thinks. As much as I dislike the idea of sedating someone who is in shock, we must get her to the hospital, and as quickly as possible. With or without her cooperation.

  “Ask her,” the doctor says, giving it one last try, “if she will take my arm and allow me to escort her to the award ceremony.” If I can at least hold on to her, perhaps we can make it to the ambulance. Not as satisfactory as carrying her there, of course. But vastly preferable to sedating her.

  This time, the soldier returns with a pleased grin. “She says that she would be honored to accompany you to the award stand, doctor.”

  With a relieved smile, the doctor extends his arm chivalrously. Jillian, tottering unsteadily to her feet, graciously accepts it.

  And so they walk, arm in arm, the doctor navigating carefully through the rubble that litters the rooms and the hallways. And Jillian leans heavily on his arm for the support that she steadfastly refuses to admit that she needs.

  5.3.14: Aqevina

  “Wait.”

  Nathan has taken only a few steps when Karnaga signals to the sergeant, who quickly retrieves him.

  All of my instincts tell me that something is terribly wrong here, Karnaga thinks. Look at the way she stares at him! Her eyes are hollow, almost dead. It is not what one would expect. It is hardly the joy of finding that a fellow hostage has emerged unscathed.

  And yet she has confirmed that she knows him. And Kendal has vouched for him as well.

  But still, there’s something wrong.

  But what?

  “Miss O’Malley,” Karnaga says, evenly. “I would like to ask you one more question. Was this man taken hostage, as you were?”

  “For the love of God, Karnaga,” G.W. explodes. “She’s already told you…”

  Karnaga holds up his hand. “She has confirmed that she knows him, Mr. Kendal. This is something entirely different.”

  “But I already explained…”

  “I am speaking to Miss O’Malley, Mr. Kendal, not to you. Miss O’Malley, I ask you again…”

  “Jesus, Karnaga, can’t you just admit that you fucked up?”

  Karnaga sighs and turns to face G.W. “Mr. Kendal,” he says, his voice cold. “If you interrupt me again I will have you taken away, by force if necessary. Do you understand me?”

  “Oh, shit, Karnaga, what the hell do you think…”

  “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

  Nearby conversation stops. Heads turn. “Yeah,” G.S. says, grudgingly, “I hear you. Go ahead, ask your fucking question.”

  “Miss O’Malley,” Karnaga barks, as he turns his attention back to Sunshine. Then, realizing that he’s still using the same tone he used with G.W., he begins again, more softly. “I am sorry, Miss O’Malley. Let me ask you again: Was this man a hostage, like yourself?”

  Not getting an immediate response, Karnaga continues: “Or,” he adds, giving voice to the other possibility, “was he in league with the terrorists?”

  ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍

  For the longest time, an eternity, several eternities, Sunshine and Nathan stare at each other.

  Nathan wears a curious look, full of amused anticipation, as if he, too, is eager to know what Sunshine is going to say.

  Sunshine looks back at him with no expression whatsoever. Her face is pale. Her eyes betray not the slightest hint of the furious debate that rages within her.

  There’s been enough damage done for one day, she’s thinking. Sending Nathan to jail won’t make me feel any better. I’ve already exacted my revenge. I don’t feel any need to get back at anybody anymore, not now, not today, not ever. So I’ll lie. I’ll say that Nathan was a hostage, like me. And he’ll walk away, and I’ll never see him again. And it will all be behind me.

  But that’s just what he expects! He knows that I won’t be able to turn him in. He knows that I don’t have the strength to have him locked up for the rest of his life. He’s counting on it. That’s why he’s smiling his sly little smile at me.

  But then, in a flash, she realizes that she’s mistaken. Nathan doesn’t really know what I’m going to do, she thinks, with some surprise. And in his own, strange, wonderful way, he doesn’t care. His life will go on, whether in a new ashram, or out on the street, or in prison. His life will go on. Or his life will end. It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same to him.

  But it makes a difference to me, doesn’t it? Will I be able to live with myself if I allow him to go free just because I’m too tired to do anything about it?

  But if I turn him in just because I think he expects me not to, then I’m still not making my own decisions. Instead of doing what I think he wants me to do, like I’ve been doing for years, I’ll be doing the exact opposite. But I’ll still be reacting to him, not acting on my own.

  “Miss O’Malley?” Puzzled, Karnaga stares at her. “Please, Miss O’Malley, just this one question.”

  “Christ Karnaga, can’t you see the poor girl’s…”

  Karnaga holds up his hand sharply. G.W. bites his lip and shuts up.

  “Miss O’Malley?” Karnaga is gentle but firm. “Which is it? Is he a victim? Or is he a criminal? I must hear it from you.”

  Sunshine sighs, a prodigious, sorrowful sigh. She looks down, but only for a moment. Then she looks up and meets Nathan’s eyes once more.

  “He was with them.”

  G.W. exhales as sharply as if he’s been punched in the gut. “Jesus Christ,” he says softly.

  “He set the whole thing up,” Sunshine continues, her eyes never straying from Nathan’s. “He told them where we would be, in Sataru, so they could pick us up.”

  “Well I’ll be go to hell…”

  “They paid him money, three hundred thousand dollars. He needs it to build a new ashram. The old one burned down.”

  G.W. turns to Karnaga, his mouth wide open in speechless amazement. Karnaga cocks his head and stares back in triumph, his suspicions vindicated.

  A solitary tear leaks from the corner of Sunshine’s eye. I’m sorry, Nathan, she wants to say. She longs to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness. Anything, anything, so that once again, even for the briefest moment, she can bask in the warmth and comfort of his love.

  But she knows, as surely as she has ever known anything, that that door is no longer open to her. And worse: She will have to live with the knowledge that she’s closed and locked it herself, barred it forever with a few well-chosen words.

  She feels as though she’s ripped out her own heart.

  And in Nathan’s eyes she sees just the slightest glimmer of… of what? Of pride? There’s certainly no accusation there, not even the slightest hint of disapproval. But is she imagining it, or is he actually pleased with her?

  “I have taught you well, Sunshine,” Nathan says, as if to dispel her b
efuddlement. “And now you understand the final lesson.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, Sunshine nods. “I must not rely on anyone but myself,” she whispers. “The source of my strength lies within me.” Of course. If I had lied to protect him, I would have proven that I was still, somehow, dependent on him. But now, by refusing to hide from the truth, I have set myself free.

  Then why don’t I feel good about it? Why do I feel like digging a hole and burying myself in it?

  “Oh, Nathan,” she whispers, piteously, even as his wrists are once again handcuffed together behind his back.

  “Namaste, Sunshine,” Nathan says, bowing his head toward her.

  She returns his bow. “Namaste, Nathan,” she says.

  Namaste.

  I salute the light within you.

  For the last time.

  And then they’re leading him away, and part of her wants to run after him, but she knows that that part of her life is gone, forever.

  Nathan doesn’t look back. He climbs into a waiting van. The doors swing closed behind him. The van drives off. Sunshine watches as Nathan and the van disappear into the trees.

  And then he’s gone.

  Like he was never there at all.

  5.3.15: Aqevina

  “Jill!”

  He races to her, he’s shouting her name, he wraps his meaty arms around her, he squeezes her as hard as he can without actually crushing her ribs.

  “Oh my God, you’re alright, thank God.”

  “Daddy?”

  He releases his grip and pushes her back so he can look at her face. She’s a little dirty, but that’s all. Not bad, considering what she’s been through. But her eyes… her eyes are ciphers, blanks, two empty holes that don’t seem to be registering anything they see.

  “Daddy?” she asks again. She sounds vaguely puzzled, as if she’s not entirely sure of who he is, or perhaps she can’t quite understand what he’s doing here.

  “What have they done to you?” G.W. demands. Frantic, he turns to Karnaga. “What’s wrong with her? Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong, goddamn it. Something’s wrong.”