by Alice Ward
He pierced me with his dark eyes in the rear-view mirror.
“I’m looking for someone.”
It would be pointless to hide the truth from Aarif. Once we got to my destination, he would find out exactly why I was there. If he wouldn’t be willing to get involved in my search by translating, I needed to know right away so I could find someone else to help me.
“I know of that camp,” he said. “American and Canadian.”
“Yes. Do you know a village called Tejen? It’s near Black Horse. That’s where I’m going.”
This time his eyebrows shot up. “Such a… different, uh, random place for you to be. Am I not right?”
“You’re right,” I agreed, taking a deep breath and biting the bullet. “I’m looking for my boyfriend. I think he’s there.”
A long moment passed. “And why is this man there?”
“I think… I think he’s looking for some people. He wants to find the people who killed his sister.”
It was a lot of heavy information to give the man at once, but better now than when we were standing in the middle of Tejen.
Aarif wiped his palm across his mouth, his body posture changing from capable driver to tense. His hand grew tight on the wheel, he shifted in his seat. I was losing him. Of course, I was. No one would want to be involved in a potentially dangerous search for a missing person.
“I’ll pay you double your rate,” I quickly told him. “And your boss doesn’t have to know. Please… I understand if it’s not worth the risk. If you don’t want to do it, can you please help me find someone who will? I won’t even tell anyone that I let you know what I’m doing here. I just need to find Seth. I need to find him right away.” I choked on the last words.
Up front, Aarif made a sound I couldn’t read. “I will do it. I understand the pain. I will do it.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, almost unable to believe it.
“But tomorrow. We cannot drive to Tejen in the dark. I will take you somewhere to stay.”
I’d been afraid of this, but at least I had Aarif on my side. “All right. Thank you. Is there a hotel you can take me to?”
“You can stay in my family’s house.”
“Oh, no. I can’t. Thank you, but a hotel is great.”
“No, you stay. You stay with my daughters. All right?”
I hesitated. Going to the home of a strange man was a big no-no, but I couldn’t risk offending Aarif. If he was lying about his daughters, I would hightail it into the street. Hopefully Aarif was just a regular family man, and hopefully, we would turn into something resembling friends. I needed every bit of his trust I could get.
Besides, I felt safer knowing the tracker on me would let those back home know my every movement. I had Blaire to thank for that. I sent a message on the satellite phone she gave me too. Neither of these devices would protect me, but at least they could find me, or my body, if something went wrong.
Aarif took me to his home on the outskirts of Kabul, where, it turned out, he did live with his wife and three daughters. His son, he told me, had married and moved out of the house the year before. His daughters were all much younger than me, somewhere between nine and fourteen.
Aarif’s wife was gracious. She didn’t speak any English, but she smiled and nodded her head at me, gesturing for me to sit. The whole family and I settled cross-legged on the floor, where we ate a meal with our hands. There was a grain and some kind of meat mixed into balls with spices. I hadn’t realized how ravenous I was, but once I tasted the food, I devoured everything on my dish.
After the meal, Aarif’s wife showed me the girls’ bedroom. I gestured to the meal area, thinking that it was only polite to offer to help clean up, but again stopped and cursed myself for not having learned more about Afghani manners. In America, it was only right to offer to help your host clean up, in some other places doing so could be downright rude.
I was exhausted from my flight anyway, and eager to sleep so I could wake and search for Seth in the morning. I settled on the one large bed in the room, Aarif’s daughters whispering and moving about me. In a few minutes, I was out.
When sunlight woke me, only the youngest girl was still in bed, lying horizontal down at the foot with a blanket draped over her. I rose quickly and grabbed my bags, changed clothes and stuffed my dirty laundry in a side pocket, eager to not waste a minute.
Aarif’s wife was busy in the living area preparing food. She spoke a few words and gestured in a way that indicated she would like me to sit, but I smiled and waved my hand to signal no. Taking the time for one meal had been enough. It was time to get down to business, even if that meant being rude.
I found Aarif out front. The family’s house was on a busy street, with homes packed together closely. He was talking with a neighbor, waving his hands wildly as he spoke. I waited for him to notice me, bouncing on my heels in the packed dirt and trying to have patience as I slowly melted in the heat.
“Are you ready to go on the journey?” Aarif finally asked, walking over to me.
“Yes, please. That is, if you are.”
He looked thoughtfully at the car. “I have heard… not so good things are happening in Tejen.”
My heart nearly folded in on itself. How much more terror and disappointment could it take? “What kind of not so good things?”
“Men are seen around there all this week. Men with guns.”
I clutched my bags. Ominous news, yes, but I couldn’t let it stop me.
Aarif continued. “It is not a safe place right now. That is what you should know, and me as well.”
I hung my head. I would have to find someone else to take me. Who knew how much time I would waste looking for the right person?
“I will take you,” Aarif said. “Perhaps it will be a danger. Perhaps we will turn back.”
I gulped and nodded. He was putting himself in danger to help me. “All right. I understand. Thank you.” It was the one offer on the table. I had no choice but to take it.
The little blue car took us quickly away from Kabul. Houses became farther and farther apart, and the landscape stretched out in front of us. It was just like the picture Seth had emailed me. I studied the rocks and trees, half believing that by some chance I might recognize the spot Seth photographed. But I didn’t, of course. We drove for a long time, passing houses clustered together, other vehicles, and some people on horseback.
Eventually, Aarif slowed the car. “We are close.”
I leaned forward to observe the little town we were coming into. It looked much like the rest of what I’d seen on the road trip from Kabul, quaint and unassuming, with houses lined up together like in any other town.
Aarif cleared his throat. “I will go place the car at the home of a man I know. I will ask about your Seth.”
He slowed even more, and we took the dusty main road into Tejen. Taking a right, he stopped the car in front of a home that was more of a hut than a house. Built in a circular fashion, it had one small window and lopsided, rusted metal shingles on the roof.
I placed my hand on the handle but hesitated, suddenly afraid to leave the vehicle. Everything outside the car’s windows was so different from my home in Chicago, and strangely alien. Suddenly my living room, my bedroom, and even my kitchen seemed excessive. My foyer with the water fountain and the backyard with its pool now seemed ridiculously luxurious and unnecessary. Who the fuck needed a fountain inside their house anyway?
Aarif got out without a glance at me and went to the hut. A man came to the door, and they stepped into the darkness of the home. I shrank back in my seat, looking all around. Few adults peppered the street, but farther down, half a dozen boys played soccer. The sight comforted me a little. Children were good. They meant I was in a normal community.
Aarif came back out, and I forced myself to step from the car and into the brutally hot air.
“Did he tell you anything?” I asked.
Aarif scratched his beard. “An American was here last w
eek. He was not from the United States Army. He did not tell his name. Instead he wanted to ask questions.”
I nearly exploded from excitement. “That was Seth! I know it!”
Aarif looked less than pleased, his face darkening.
“What is it?”
“He has been not the only man seen around here. The men with guns I told you have been asking for an American.”
My heart fluttered. “People are looking for Seth?”
“Yes, that is what I believe.”
I balled the ends of my shirt in my hands. “Okay…”
“This is dangerous, Miss Laurent. I cannot take you around here. To ask too many questions is bad.”
I flicked my eyes back to him and opened my mouth to argue, but then stopped. Aarif had three daughters. What would become of them if something happened to their father? I’d brought myself to this place. I’d accepted any danger I might be bringing upon myself, but I couldn’t ask someone else to do that as well.
“I understand,” I said.
“Come back with me to…”
“No.” I dug my heels into the sandy ground.
Aarif shook his head aggressively and sliced his hand through the air. “You do not understand.”
“I do. Trust me, I do. But I can’t go back. I have to know. I have to know where Seth is. I have to find him before something happens to him.”
“How can you know a bad something has not happened?”
“I can’t,” I whispered. “But if that’s the case, I need to find out. What if it was your wife?”
“I would go to my daughters,” he immediately said. “To take care of them.”
I swallowed the hot ball in my throat. “It’s not like that where I’m from. There’s no one for me to go back to but my dog.”
“I will go now. You should come.”
“I can’t.” I shook my head and stepped back.
Aarif pursed his lips and looked at the ground, nodding at the dirt before he walked to the car. He pulled my two bags out and set them on the ground next to me, then finally looked up at me.
“Good luck.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, then dug in my pocket and handed him the money I’d promised.
He waved his hand through the air, obviously refusing.
“Take it please.”
He did reluctantly, then made a gesture that I didn’t recognize but must have been a thank you. Turning from me, he climbed into the car and drove away. I stood planted where I was, watching the little blue car and Aarif, the closest thing I had to a friend on this side of the ocean, disappear.
I was alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I had no clue how I would leave Tejen when this was over, how I would get a ride back to Kabul and to the airport. I didn’t know how I would even communicate with anyone. Picking my bags up, I prayed that someone in the village spoke English.
The home next to the one Aarif’s friend lived in looked like a place to start. A woman in a headscarf and holding an infant answered, her dark eyes roving over me. The baby fussed, and she moved it to her other hip.
“Hello,” I said, enunciating clearly. “My name is Quinn.” I touched my chest to indicate I spoke of myself. “I’m looking for my friend. Does anyone here speak English?”
Her lips pursed. A second later, she stepped back and shut the door in my face. I stared at the wood, the sounds of children yammering coming from behind it.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It wasn’t time to give up hope yet. I still had many other doors to knock on, and after Tejen there would be more villages and towns. I would stay as long as I needed to. If this day proved unfruitful, I would somehow find a ride back to Kabul, where I would stay in a hotel. I would go back out tomorrow and look again, and I would keep looking until I found Seth.
The woman at the next house was a bit friendlier, attempting to speak to me, though we got nowhere. She pointed at a home down the street on the other side, apparently suggesting that I go there. I smiled broadly and thanked her before going.
Hours later, I was still at a loss. No one spoke English. No one seemed to understand what I was doing there. I didn’t know what to do next, or where I’d sleep that night. On top of it all, I seemed to be garnering a reputation. Heads poked out of homes to watch me and children stopped playing to stare. A few teenage boys even began to follow me down the street. My limbs filled with adrenaline as I gauged the size and age of the boys. Why were they following me? I prayed it was out of sheer curiosity.
The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky by the time I stepped up to a new house and knocked. No one answered, and I felt hopelessness begin to settle over me. Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I watched the boys turn down a side path opposite from where I stood. I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away from the threshold. No one was out to get me. I was just being paranoid.
A sharp male voice filled the air, yelling something I didn’t understand. I froze, my heart thumping hard in my chest. Advancing on me from the back of the house were two men holding guns. The one closest to me barked out an unintelligible phrase. I dropped my bags and lifted my hands. I felt certain I was about to throw up.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” I stammered, my teeth chattering despite the heat. “I-I don’t understand. I-I only speak English.”
He took a step closer. The adrenaline that had entered me in the street now soared, hitting my body with the force of a volcanic explosion. Flight or fight warred within me, but neither of those options applied. These men held guns and were close enough to hit anything they aimed at. I forced my body to be as still as possible, to wait and see what they would do.
To my surprise, the second man turned and walked the way they had come while the one closest to me gestured that I should follow him. I bent to pick up my bags, and he screamed at me. Terrified, I jumped back, putting my hands up higher, not sure what I’d done wrong. With narrowed eyes, he gestured with the gun, silently tell me to walk.
Leaving my bags, I followed on shaky legs. I walked between the two of them along the back of a row of houses, strong waves of terror surging over me. The fear blurred my vision and made my knees weak. I kept walking. If I stopped there might be real trouble.
The first man entered a low hunt, the most primitive structure I’d seen in the village so far. The darkness was so deep beyond its small entry way, making me halt for a second. Once I went in that place, there was no telling what might happen to me. Perhaps I would never come back out.
A sharp jab of metal between my shoulder blades got me moving. I half stumbled, half walked into the hut.
I blinked hard, holding my breath while my eyes adjusted. Another jab in the back sent me forward another few steps.
More men were in the space, standing near the walls with guns of their own and gazing warily at me. I’d never felt more inspected, more hated. A few cushions sat on the ground, and near a far wall was what looked like a pile of bags. A second later, my bags were tossed on top of them. I swallowed hard, willing myself not to cry.
The man who’d followed behind me, and who seemed to be in charge, pointed at the floor, gesturing for me to sit. I plopped down like I was made from stone.
The head honcho spoke to another man, and he responded, but Mr. Honcho cut him off. Then he turned to me and spoke in his language again. Judging by its inflection, it sounded like another question.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” I stammered, my heart hammering in my chest. “I d-don’t understand.”
He gave a command, and one of the men went to my bags and searched through them, pulling the clothes out and tossing them on the ground. When he found my cell phone, he pocketed it. I just prayed they didn’t find the tracker sewn into my bra.
“F-friend,” I said, stressing the word. “I’m looking for my friend.”
They looked at me in disgust, as if the very sound of my voice made them sick.
Frantic now, I lifted one hand above my eyes like a shade, as if I was sear
ching the landscape, then pressed it against my heart. My attempt at sign language was probably shit, but the man towering over me at least looked like he was trying to understand.
“Friend,” I said again, on the verge of helplessness. I thought about saying that I was American, but that probably wouldn’t help my case much. Though maybe they would take me to the American camp. I gave it a moment’s thought but decided taking the chance wasn’t worth it.
“Seth,” I said feebly.
The man shifted and looked away, said something to the others. He was growing tired of me, probably trying to figure out how best to get rid of me.
Then I had an idea.
“My cell phone!” I pointed at the man who had confiscated and pocketed it. “Cell phone!” I said it in the most excited voice I could manage, trying to get the point across that there was something totally awesome on that cell phone we all needed to see. “Phone,” I said again, smiling.
The commander barked something, and the phone thief turned the device over to him. Eyeing me, he pressed the cell phone into my hand.
With my heart beating in my ears, I opened up my gallery and swiped through photos until I got to one of Seth and me. It had been taken in the park a couple days before he left. Our faces pressed together, we smiled up at the camera. The sadness in me was evident, despite the grin on my face.
I turned the phone so the man could see the screen. “Seth.” I pointed at the picture. “My friend. I’m looking for him.” I made the gesture for searching again.
The man’s eyes narrowed, and he grunted something to the group. I held my breath as a long moment passed. One of the men who hadn’t yet moved walked across the space, ducking where the ceiling got low and went out into the yard.
This is either really good or really bad.
The men talked as if I wasn’t even there. I clutched my cell phone, the one last reminder of my life before I came to Tejen. In it were numerous pictures of Seth, Starlet, and my friends. All of whom I might never see again.