Love In The House Of War
Page 8
As they moved along, Ron hummed a tune.
Sarah stopped to listen. “That is nice. What is the song?”
“Rock of Ages.”
“It is a popular song in America?”
“No. Used to be In churches. It is an old song.”
“What are the words?”
“I remember, 'Rock of Ages, cleft for me. Let me hide myself in Thee.”
“You said from church. The rock is Jesus?”
“Yes—Jesus.”
“You believe he is still alive?”
“Yes—yes I do. He is alive. He is the living water. God raised him from the dead. We believe in the resurrection.”
They continued to walk at a quick pace, staying amongst the tree line for another two hours before Sarah stopped again. “We can rest a minute, please.”
“Yes, of course. How is your foot doing?”
“It is fine, believe me.”
Ron took a sip from his CamelBak as Sarah approached. Stopping in front of him, she stared into his eyes and held out her hand. “I'd like some too, please.”
“My water?” Ron asked in surprise since he knew she had a flask of her own.
“Yes, of course—your water. You have the living water, yes?”
Ron held the nozzle up to her lips so she could drink. Lifting her right hand to hold the nozzle, she placed it on top of his. With her left hand, she grabbed his extended wrist. She drank the water, head tilted downward with her eyes looking up into his eyes. “Thank you. Very refreshing.”
Ron still held the nozzle in his hand as she turned around and walked away. “Hey, wait! What about our break?”
“We must hurry!”
“Oh no. Not until you sit a minute and let me take a look at your foot.”
“We have no time for that.”
“Why are you in such a hurry all of a sudden?”
“We are surrounded by the Taliban.” Sarah's expression displayed a shocking revelation to Ron's question. “Please, can we go now?”
Torn between reaching their destination and the condition of her foot, Ron gave in. “Okay, come on. I'll just carry you if I have to.”
She moved out quickly. Gaining his composure, he placed the CamelBak back onto the pack and retrieved his M4.
Just more than three hours later, they came to a ledge. Below them, a few flickering cinders of cooking fires and lamps appeared in the valley below, indicating habitation. Sarah pointed at the lights in the distance. “There. Golbahar, where I was born.”
Ron watched his breath dissipate in the still air. What he could see in the dark did not look like much. “Then it must be a very special place.”
She grabbed his arm and said, “Come.”
18
Moving down the mountain, the gorge narrowed. A river appeared on the other side of an open area littered with granite rocks. The cold wind blew through the ravine as Ron and Sarah faced the most arduous part of their trek. Pushing on with vigor, they came to a sudden stop just east of the opening in a wooded area.
“Right here. This is the place where my mother died.”
Ron looked at Sarah with compassion. “Would you like to rest here a moment?”
Sarah walked up to him. “May I share some more of your 'living water,' please?”
“Of course. Anything I have is yours.” Ron handed her the CamelBak, and watched her gulp down the clear liquid. “Refreshing?”
She finished swallowing, closed the cap, and handed it back to Ron. “Very. Thank you again.”
Ron took the pack and strapped it over his shoulders. “My pleasure.”
Sarah held out her hand. “Shall we be going?”
Thirty minutes later, Ron and Sarah approached their Qalla at the outskirts of the town. The mud-walled compound contained several mud-squared houses grouped together where the extended family—parents, wife, young children, grown sons, their families and unmarried female relatives lived together. These walled compounds were designed to enhance family privacy, family honor, as well as security.
Both walked through the front gate onto the dirt roads with Sarah in the lead and Ron watching behind him.
Peering to his left and right in a continuous flow, he held his M4 at his side—ready for action. A couple of dogs barked, breaking the silence with an irritating echo. Sarah stopped to hold up a finger to her mouth. A man speaking in Pashto, yelled at the dogs to be silent. Then they moved forward.
After turning the corner, they were on the street leading to Akhund Amar's house. Sarah decided to go there rather than taking Ron to her own home.
Creeping up to the front, Sarah called out in Farsi. Dr. Rajiv opened the door and pulled her inside. Looking at Ron, he waved his hand. “Hurry—please.”
“Oh, Papa!” Sarah yelled before wrapping her arms around his neck, almost knocking him over.
“Praise be to Allah—you are safe, little princess!” Dr. Rajiv exclaimed.
Sarah glanced over her shoulder at Ron. “Papa, this is Sergeant Hawkins, the soldier who saved my life!”
Dr. Rajiv gave him a brief glance. “Yes, I know—we have met. Good to see you again, Sergeant.
“Why are you here Papa?”
“Because too many people are looking for the American. There are people looking for you too my dear. We must talk.”
“Looking for me?” she inquired.
“I was so worried about you, little princess, and so afraid that something happened to you both, but Abdul assured me that you would be safe. I wanted to check on you but knew that I would place you both at risk had I come.”
“It is fine, Papa. We are here now. Who is looking for me?”
Dr. Rajiv looked at Ron. “I will tell you later.”
“We must go to Mazar-e-Sharaif so Ron can be with his team.”
“Ron? Oh, SGT Hawkins,” Dr. Rajiv added. “We will help get Sergeant Hawkins to his team, my dear, but the road ends for you here now where you will be safe.”
“What do you mean? You know I will not be safe here anymore. I want to be with Ron—help take him to his team. You know I can do it!”
“It is true, you are not safe here but there is another plan for you. You will not be safe driving north to Mazar-e-Sharaif, believe me.”
Ron walked over to the two of them. “Please excuse the interruption, but Sarah, maybe Dr. Rajiv is correct. It may be too risky for you to travel with me to Mazar-e-Sharif.”
Before Ron could continue with his thoughts of working out a plan to link up later, Sarah looked horrified by Ron's words. Visibly shaken, Sarah yelled, “How-how could you…after all we have been through?”
Ron noticed the hurt in her eyes but before he could explain, she turned in haste and stormed out the back door.
“Sarah! Come back inside!” Dr. Rajiv called before going after her.
Amar appeared and stood next to Ron. Akhund Ali Amar, of Tajik decent, held a special fondness for Sarah, who once saved his youngest daughter from dying from a gastrointestinal infection. “I am Akhund Amar,” he said to Ron while placing his hand over his heart and extending his hand.
Ron returned the gesture. “Pleased to meet you. I am Sergeant Ron Hawkins.”
“Yes, we have been waiting for you here.”
“You knew we would come here?”
“Yes, but we did not know when.”
Ron looked perplexed, disturbed by Sarah's reaction. “Sarah is quite upset.”
“Yes, it appears to me, she likes you and does not want you to leave without her. With your words, you dismissed her.”
“Wha—? You saw that in such a short time?”
“Yes, we know about these things here. It is a heart of love, seen in the eyes. Besides, I had a dream last night that confirmed she is in love with you. I shared this with her father.”
“What? A dream? What—what did her father say?”
“What could he say? I am an Akhund.”
Ron just stood there dumbfounded. “Even I don't know what to sa
y right now.”
“She believes in her heart that you are the prince that she has been dreaming of who will take her to paradise.”
“What? How could you know about this?” Ron stared, astonished by the revelation.
“It was in my dream.”
“I—I just don't want anything to happen to her. Nothing! I would die if anything bad happened to her.”
“Ah, this is good. You see her as a princess. I see that you also have feelings for her. This is good and can mean one thing!” the Akhund exclaimed.
“What?”
“I will tell you both at the same time because she is coming back now.”
Dr. Rajiv and Sarah returned. Ron could see that she had been crying. Ron walked towards her but she sidestepped him.
“I must make a statement to all of you, please sit and be silent.” Amar announced.
Dr. Rajiv, Sarah, and Ron exchanged glances and then sat down in wooden chairs around the table. Sarah was heading towards the opposite end of Ron until Amar redirected her next to Ron. “Here my child.”
Sarah would not give Ron eye contact as she sat. He reached for her hand but she moved it away.
“Okay, listen to me,” Amar began. It is very clear to me and confirmed by my dream that you two are in love!”
Sarah blurted out in Farsi but Ron did not understand what she said. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Amar held up his hand.
“Please, let me finish.”
Sarah nodded her head. “I am sorry.”
“Sergeant Hawkins explained to me why he did not want you to go with him. He would die if anything happened to you. This is how much he loves you, little princess.”
Sarah looked over at Ron. “Is this true?”
Ron grappled for words before answering. “Yes Sarah—it is true. I do love you.”
Sarah shot back, “Then why would you not take me with you now? I can fight and I do not ever want to be without you…ever!”
“What can we do Akhund Amar?” Ron asked.
“With her father's permission, you can take her with you. But, for a woman to go with a man, he must ask her father for his daughter's hand in marriage.”
Ron, Sarah, and Dr. Rajiv responded in unison. “What?”
Amar spoke to Dr. Rajiv in Pashto so Ron did not understand the exchange. Looking at Sarah, he shrugged his shoulders.
Sarah held her finger to her lips. Ron waited. Okay, Sergeant Hawkins, you may speak to Dr, Rajiv now,” Amar said as Dr. Rajiv sat back in his chair.
Reading between the lines, Ron reached out his hands towards Sarah, looked into her eyes and directed his words to Dr. Rajiv.
“Dr. Rajiv, I am requesting permission from you, sir, the honor of marrying your beautiful daughter, Sarah.”
There was an awkward silence. Dr. Rajiv looked at Sarah who sat with her mouth stuck wide open. Then he looked up at Amar who was smiling and nodding his head. After regaining his composure, he said, “In some ways, I was hoping it would come to this. My little princess, do you love this man with your heart?”
Sarah, still in a state of shock, nodded her head with a jubilant smile. Then in a swift motion, jumped up, wrapped her arms around Ron with such force that it sent both tumbling to the ground. Regaining her composure and jumping up, Sarah looked at Dr. Rajiv.
“Yes—yes papa…Ron is my prince and I love him with all my heart!”
“Sergeant Hawkins.” Ron turned to face him. “You have my blessing.”
She looked back at Ron and both erupted in a huge grin.
“When will this happen and how can we do this?” Ron asked.
“We can do it here and now Amar said. “I am an Akhund and all I needed was her father's permission.”
Ron looked at Sarah who was beaming with delight. Amar's wife who had been lingering in the background arrived with hot tea for everyone.
“Sir, your daughter is special and a child of God. It is through God that I have found such love for her.”
Dr. Rajiv and Akhund Amar both broke into a wide grin. “So you do believe in Allah! This is a very wise response!”
Before Ron could clarify his belief in Jesus, Sarah stepped toward him. “Yes, Papa. He loves God very much and is an honorable man.”
19
As the talk continued, Ron turned to Dr. Rajiv. “I have a question maybe you can answer. On our way here, we saw a Russian helicopter.” Do you have any idea what that is all about?”
r. Rajiv looked at Sarah. “Yes, the Russians are here. “It is your father…your real father. He has sent a team to retrieve you and A bring you to him.”
Sarah's face grew pale. “My—my real father?” Shaking her head, she continued. “No Papa, you are my real father.”
“Sarah, my princess, it is true that I have raised you from birth, but you must remember, when you were young, I told you the story about your father and mother.”
“I know—I know…but.”
“What story, if I may ask?”
Dr. Rajiv answered Ron. “Captain Viktor Tamarov served with the Soviet infantry—the Blue Beret Commandos during their occupation here.”
Ron listened.
“He is now a general—head of the Russian Special Operations Department within the Defense Ministry. When he was here, his lieutenant was shot and almost died.”
“He would have if not for you,” Amar added.
“Yes, I and my sister—Sarah's mother, saved him.”
Sarah lowered her head with the mention of her mother.
“Captain Tamarov and his men were very grateful to us and vowed to protect us no matter the cost. They stayed amongst us.”
“Sounds about right,” Ron said. “We would do the same.”
Dr. Rajiv continued. “My sister, Sumayah, was a very beautiful woman. She fell in love with the Captain,”
Ron watched Sarah's eyes widen.
“Then, just before the Captain was preparing to leave the country, he discovered that Sumayah carried their child.”
Ron watched Sarah who was ashen but remained silent with her mouth open.
“He was present when the baby girl was born. They named her, Sarah, because she was their little 'Princess.”
Sarah placed her hands over her mouth—tears forming in her eyes until the droplets flowed down her cheek.
“When Captain Tamarov came for my sister and Sarah—and me, the Mujahedeen ambushed us, as if they knew of our plan. The Captain took a bullet to his leg sending him to the ground.”
Ron reached over and placed his hand on Sarah's hand.
Dr. Rajiv's voice quivered. “Then it happened. Sumayah was killed before his eyes while his men restrained him from going after her. They carried him away while I picked up Sarah and fled back to my home.”
Sarah wept.
“This was twenty years ago.”
“Now he is back to get his daughter…after twenty years?” Ron asked. “Why now?”
“He knows that Sarah is in danger. Perhaps he feels the urgency with the American presence.”
“How would he have known?”
“I must confess. I took a chance hoping—hoping that my Sarah might find an American the same way my sister found the Russian.”
Ron and Sarah both gasped. “What? This whole thing was a set up?”
“Please, Sarah knew nothing of this,” Dr. Rajiv responded while Sara's panic-stricken voice cried out, “I promised I did not know!”
“It was I who gave Sarah instructions to receive medical supplies from your team. I told her if she smiled for him, he would not refuse to help her.
“What are you saying?”
“Her uncle, Mohaqeq, helped with the arrangement. However, the rescue did not go according to plan.”
Sarah looked at Ron. “Hawk, please—I want to be with you forever. Will you take me with you?” she pleaded.
Ron buried his head into his hands and uttered a prayer. “Let's do it!” Ron exclaimed, “But only if Dr. Rajiv approves.”
“Of course, yes, of course!” he blurted.
The mood changed. Enjoyment replaced the tense sullen atmosphere.
“Whatever happens next must be quick,” Ron said.
Akhund Amar spoke. “Sarah's father has given you permission, and the engagement is official. Now, you both must decide on the trousseau, the bride price, and the dowry. Then, I will have a contract for both of you to sign.”
Ron, who was very happy to have cash and gifts on hand for Afghan allies willing to help, replied, “I'll give you whatever is required!”
“You have already paid a heavy price, Sergeant Hawkins, by saving my daughter's life,” Dr. Rajiv said. “She becomes yours and is forever indebted to you. I am forever indebted to you as well.”
Looking at Sarah, Ron added, “I have nothing to give you right now, but I can promise you the prettiest ring you have ever seen.”
“Will it be silver?” She joked.
“Silver, gold, whatever you want. And it will have the most beautiful diamonds that can be seen for miles.”
“I was teasing you. Oh Ron, I do not care if you give me anything. For now, all I want is you and nothing else matters. You just made this the happiest day of my life!”
Dr. Rajiv interrupted. “Sergeant Hawkins, the matter with the Russians—they plan to return here tomorrow…and expect to take Sarah with them.
Sarah looked shaken. “But things have changed now, Papa! I don't want to go. When Ron asked me to marry him, God answered my prayers.”
Dr. Rajiv looked at Sarah with deep compassion as her last remark touched him. “Oh, princess, I love you so much. You will marry Sergeant Hawkins.”
“Thank you Papa.”
Amar spoke up. “It is clear to me that the spirits are with you both. I will marry you here today. Although under normal circumstances, the wedding feast would last seven days, we will take one day and then you must go. Your very lives depend on it.”
“The sooner—the better,” Ron added.
“After I marry you, we will eat a quick feast and then you will go to an undisclosed location in the valley for the night. My brother and his son will pick you up in the morning with their truck.