“You have not changed your mind?” he asked, checking out my outfit.
“Not a chance.” I pulled out my camera. “I told them I was going to town to take sunset pictures, and wouldn’t be back till much later.”
He grinned. “Take a picture.”
Click.
“Now I’ll always remember where I found you,” I said, tucking the camera into my bag.
“And you told your father the truth then,” he said with a hint of a smile. “Soon it will be sunset.”
I hopped on the back of the motor, slipping my arms around his waist just like before.
When he started the ignition, the engine rattled loudly in the hot air. Birds in a nearby tree scattered.
Yikes.
“Um. Maybe we should walk the motor until we’re off the grounds.”
“They will not hear. So much noise after dinner.” He glanced up at the sky. Gray and black storm clouds swelled and shifted. “Rain is coming. We must go.” He looked at me hard. “Do not let go of me.”
I smiled and kissed his cheek. “Never.”
His eyes did that piercing thing again, and my stomach flipped.
Uh oh. I knew that look. If I didn’t get him back on track, we’d wind up kissing right there in broad daylight. With our luck, Dad or Tom would round the corner, and we’d be busted all over again.
I tucked my body against his back, away from temptation, and smiled to myself.
We took off down the dirt driveway and twisted onto the streets of Yogyakarta.
We’d only been riding a few minutes when it started to rain—really rain—like a total downpour. The streets were slick with oily water. I held on to Deni like my life depended on it, which I guess it did.
“Is this too dangerous to drive in?” I yelled.
“It is only rain,” he called back.
After our wild ride, Deni pulled the motor into the chaotic loading zone at the airport. Buses and taxis zoomed around us, splashing water as they sped by. I was soaked to the bone but relieved we’d made it in one piece. Besides, I had other things are on my mind like: Will my dad show up and drag us back to the pesantren? Or will he just shove me onto a plane back home now and be done with it?
Deni left the motor at the curb, and we ran across the curb to a shelter. “My friend will get the motor,” he told me.
“Will it still be here when he arrives?” I asked, unconvinced.
He shrugged. “I hope so. Are you ready?”
I sucked in a deep breath. “I think so.”
We approached the ticket counter, and I read the phrase directly from the transportation section in my book: “Saya mau dua tiket ke Aceh dan satu tiket Aceh ke Yogya.”
I want two tickets to Aceh. And a one-way ticket from Aceh back to Yogya. For me. For when I flew back without Deni. I gulped. How was I going to say goodbye to him?
Don’t think about that yet. You still have a whole adventure with him in front of you.
The man behind the counter started typing. Deni translated to me that the first leg of the flight for Aceh left in about an hour. We were lucky.
I showed the man behind the counter my passport and handed over my credit card. “You American?”
“Yes.”
“Traveling with him?” He glanced at Deni suspiciously.
“Yes. We are part of a global relief team, heading to Aceh.”
“He is?”
“Yes. Both of us. He is my…our…translator.”
“Ah.” He handed us our boarding passes. Internally I sighed with relief.
Between Deni’s language skills and my knowledge of airports, we made our way through checkpoints, past soldiers dressed in camouflage holding machine guns—intimidating!—and finally to the gate, where we waited to board the plane.
I couldn’t believe it was only a week ago that Dad was holding my hand through this airport. The idea seemed so ridiculous now.
We sat in some seats by the gate and watched the soldiers scan the crowds. My anxiety ratcheted up a notch every few seconds. It’s like I expected to see Dad or Tom or Vera scouring the terminal for us, but they weren’t there. Yet. If they showed up before the plane left…
I chewed on the side of my thumb. It wasn’t too late to bail. I could say I made a mistake. The motor was still outside.
But what about Deni?
I tapped my foot on the tile floor.
He already had his plane ticket. He could fly up to Aceh alone.
But then we’d have to say goodbye here at the airport.
Nope. I wasn’t ready to do that.
But what if something went wrong up there and nobody knew how to get in touch with Dad? What if I got lost and he couldn’t find me?
Breathe. Breathe.
Deni looked over at me. “You are okay?”
“You know when you try to cross a busy street, how you can’t chicken out halfway and run back to the curb?” I asked. “How you have to keep moving forward so traffic will know what you’re doing? So you don’t get squashed like a bug? I guess that’s what I’m worried about. Chickening out halfway and not making it to the other side of the road in one piece.”
He studied my face. “You, Sienna, will always land in one piece.”
We’re about to find out.
The plane was rickety, small, and old. I tried to forget Tom’s casual comments about Indonesian in-country flights not meeting FAA standards, and enjoyed Deni’s expressions as the bucket of bolts vibrated into the stormy sky.
Once we were in the air, Deni said, “At home, planes are only for the very rich. We would ride buses to travel to the next village.”
“At home, I didn’t fly much, either.”
This time, I tried to ignore the danger and rolled with the motion, like a wave, like the motor.
“Before the tsunami, I never left Aceh,” he said, staring out the window. “I wonder what it is like now. How much has changed in the time I have been away.”
“Well, they’ve been doing a lot of work. I mean we’ve been doing a lot of work. We are relief workers, remember?”
“Ah, yes. I am a translator. And can also build houses with my bare hands.”
I laughed. “I’m sure it is better now than when you left.”
He looked doubtful. “How can you fix something that has been destroyed?”
I wanted to hold his hand but didn’t want to risk the attention.
A flight attendant came by and handed us each a small plastic cup of water and two sweet rolls. I handed both of mine to Deni.
“And everything is free?” he asked, tucking the extra roll into his bag.
“After you buy the ticket, yes.”
With grateful eyes, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it quickly before letting it fall.
“Thank you, Sienna,” he said. “I cannot say my thanks enough.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, leaning into him as close as I dared in public. “I was saving my babysitting and lifeguard money for a rainy day.” I pointed to the rain splashing on the window of the plane, streaking wet and gray.
“Today it is raining,” Deni said. “And getting dark, look.”
The sun had set while we waited in the airport, and yes, now it was dark. I welcomed the privacy and the blanket of night to protect our secret.
Above our heads, I switched off the light, stretching the threadbare blanket across our laps. “Here we go,” I said under my breath, reaching under the blanket to find his hand.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After our first flight, we had a three-hour layover in Medan where we found a cozy, hidden corner to sleep in until our flight was called to board. I chugged two cups of coffee when we woke up. So did Deni. There was nothing quite like the exhaustion of jet lag and travel. Or forcing yourself to keep your eyes open when all you wanted to do was sleep.
It was nearly dawn by the time we boarded a small plane to Aceh filled with health care workers, engineers and contractors, basically volunteers, and con
tracted rebuilding operations from all over the world. A mix of languages filled the cabin: French, Japanese, and English.
It made our lie much more believable.
While I was shoving my bag under the seat in front of me, Deni started chatting with some Australians across the aisle.
“We’re both physicians. This is our second trip here since the tsunami,” a woman with a pixie cut said. I noted her brown wraparound skirt, her tailored white button-up shirt, and the cute jade earrings she wore. She seemed very with it and organized.
The man sitting next to her was a handsome, rugged type with an easy laugh and a scar on his cheek. He reminded me of Indiana Jones, and the way my dad looked before Mom disappeared.
“Sienna’s father is also a doctor,” Deni said, gesturing to me. “He also works for an NGO.”
“Really? Where is he sitting?”
I felt my face flush. “He’s on the next plane.”
Deni jumped in at the same time. “He is meeting us.”
“And the rest of our team will be right behind him,” I added.
The woman still had questions in her eyes but smiled and reached out her hand. “I’m Amelia. This is my husband, Mac. Nice to meet you, Sienna.”
Mac leaned forward. “You’re traveling alone, then?”
“We are not alone,” Deni said confidently. “We are with each other.”
Yeah… Deni and I were definitely not cut out for the international spy circuit. We exchanged a glance and almost started laughing.
Amelia’s brown eyes widened, but before she could ask more questions, the flight attendant’s heavy cart rolled down the aisle between us. We both asked for more coffee.
Mac didn’t seem as worried. “Eh, Deni, are you coming back to Aceh to stay, mate?”
“I hope to,” he said.
As the docs continued chatting with Deni, I leaned back and tried to relax. Next thing I knew, Deni was drumming his drink tray with his thumbs as the people around us slept.
“I fell asleep?”
He gave me one of his cutest dimpled smiles. “You were snoring like a sleeping cat.”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“You were.”
“Oh my God.” I hid behind my hands. “But at least I didn’t have a nightmare. My dreams are different here.”
“I chased the ghosts from your dreams,” he said proudly.
“You and your motor, yes.” I wasn’t sure it was completely true, but I’d happily give some credit to him. He swept me out of my comfort zone, that was for sure.
“Ah, so are you awake now to learn important things about my country?”
I chugged some hot coffee. It burned the roof of my mouth. “Sure,” I said.
“I was thinking to tell you, at my friends’ house we have certain customs. You know of them from your book?”
“Like what?”
“Okay.” Deni stopped drumming. “You have not been to a dinner at a family home yet. Remember I told you about the tea?”
I nodded.
“We are staying with my friends’ family. There will be many formalities—they will offer to sit on the floor, and we will be served tea after much talk about life. They will ask you many questions. They speak some English. I will tell you things so you do not offend. When they offer you tea, wait until they offer it to you twice before you take a drink. Or they will think you are dying of the thirst and keep pouring you more and more drinks. Also with the food…”
“Wait until it’s been offered twice?”
“Clever girl. Yes. Otherwise…?”
“They will think I am starving and will overfeed me. Got it.”
“You are too smart. This you already know.”
I nudged him with my elbow, wishing we were by ourselves. “I’m just a quick learner.”
“And I am a great teacher,” he joked. “When you sit on the mat, sit with your feet pointed into you. Never point your toes at another person. It will greatly offend.”
“At home pointing fingers is considered rude, but pointing toes? I didn’t even know pointing your toes at someone was something that could ever happen. Why?”
Deni shrugged. “I do not remember. Just do not do it. Food is the same as at the pesantren except of course better. You eat the same. Ah, and the hot tea is very, very hot and very, very spicy.”
“How spicy? How hot?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Very, very.”
“Look. We’re almost to Aceh,” Mac said across the aisle, lifting up his small window and letting in pink and yellow light.
Quickly, Deni leaned over me and peered out the window. Somehow, he looked nervous and sad and excited all at once. I couldn’t even imagine how he felt, the strange anticipation over seeing his home after being away for six months. Seeing his broken home, did he feel the way I did when I looked at the ocean? It was like thinking, “How could something I loved betray me like this?” every single time I saw the water. I couldn’t help it, even if it didn’t make sense to be mad at an entire ocean.
Deni pointed out a flat landmass. The morning sun highlighted a spot where the ocean met the shore. “See that? You can see it. That is where the tsunami ripped out all the trees and life. The white part between the ocean and land that is not jungle? Everything was torn out. Everything there is gone. It is as if God painted a thick white stripe across the earth.”
Pressing my nose against the cold glass, I tried to picture the wave coming as he’d described, but couldn’t. It was so surreal.
“I can’t believe the sea washed three miles onto the shore,” I said quietly. “It’s insane.”
“Yes. It was a horror movie without an end.”
I squeezed his hand, and together we watched the damage from above as we made our descent into the disaster zone that was his home.
The landing was smoother than expected, and the air smelled thick as we walked down the metal stairway attached to the plane. Thick and sweet, like perfumed mud. The airport wasn’t much more than an airstrip in the middle of a field of rice paddies, and there was no building to walk through. Everyone carried on luggage, and those who had stowed theirs beneath the plane greeted their suitcases and duffel bags and boxes of supplies in a big, netted pile on the asphalt. Deni and I carried all we had with us: our backpacks.
A small, open-air terminal was all there was within sight. “Is that the regional airport, or a new one built since the tsunami?” I asked, holding on to the rail.
Deni shrugged. “I’ve never been to the airport.”
At the bottom of the stairs, drivers held up signs: Red Cross. Doctors Without Borders. World Health Organization. Human Rights in Trauma.
“One of those is you guys, right?” I asked Amelia.
“Yep!” she said, waving enthusiastically to a young blond man holding their sign. “That’s Ethan. He’s an American fresh out of residency, volunteering in our health clinic for the summer.”
“Cool,” I said, smiling at the eager blue-eyed doctor waving the sign. Was that what Dad was like when he was in the Peace Corps in Africa, before he met Mom, before they had me?
I swallowed away a twinge of guilt. By that point, Team Hope had to know I was gone. I hoped they found the note that explained where I was, and why I had to help Deni get home. I’d rather my dad be mad than worried.
“You kids need a lift somewhere?” Mac said.
“Um. Maybe.” Shoot. I hadn’t thought this part through yet. Did the taxis here take credit cards? Did they even have taxis?
Deni shook his head. “Thank you, but I will call my friends. They will come. Sienna? We should go now.”
Amelia stopped me. “Sienna, would you mind if I talked to you for a second?”
I glanced at Deni.
“I will meet you in the front. Nice to have met you.” He waved to Amelia and Mac.
“It was great meeting you, too, Deni.” Amelia lifted her cool bag over her shoulder. “Best of luck here. Your friend seems very sweet,” she said onc
e Deni was out of earshot.
“He is,” I said, watching him go.
“You met him at the pesantren, yeah?”
I loved her accent. “Yep.”
“He must have been through a lot. It seems like you two are very close.”
Something about her eyes made me know she wasn’t interrogating me, she was just curious about us. I was curious about her and Mac, too. “You know how it is when you meet someone and it’s like you already know them? That’s how it was with me and Deni.” I shrugged as if that explained the rest.
“That’s a wonder when that happens. Makes all of this worth it,” she said, gesturing in the air.
I chuckled. “It was a surprise, that’s for sure. So how are things here in Aceh?”
It was so nice to have an adult understand rather than question and criticize our quick bond.
“Since the tsunami, things are better—they recently signed a peace treaty for the civil war, but there is still a lot of political unrest. And you’re an American girl. Be careful, okay? Here is my phone number if you need me.” She handed me her card. “Our tent in the old town center. And Sienna?”
“Yes?”
“You might want to wear one of these.” Lowering her voice, she pulled two scarves out of her bag, and handed me the blue one. “Leave it on until you go to sleep at night, then put it back on in the morning. Aceh is extremely conservative part of Indonesia. You don’t want to offend anyone or run into trouble. You could get arrested here for being a woman without hijab.” She frowned. “I’m surprised your dad didn’t tell you all of this.” She said it in a nice way, not chastising, but suspicious that I may not have known what I’d gotten myself into. Which was totally true.
My stomach lurched. Crap. “Um…thanks.” What else could I say?
The way she was looking at me, all soft eyes and understanding, Amelia reminded me of a younger version of my mom, especially when she was with Mac. They reminded me of my parents, what they must’ve been like traveling together. Amelia, especially, seemed extremely perceptive and confident. Obviously, she’d figured out right away that I didn’t know what I was doing, but rather than go all Vera on me, Amelia actually helped.
Where I Found You Page 17