The Bracelet

by Roberta Gately

  “What is it?” Nick asked, turning back to Abby. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. No more scotch for you, I think.”

  “Nick, do you remember the nightmares I mentioned?”

  “Your nightmares? From the Lariam? Didn’t you stop that stuff?”

  “I did. But my nightmares never stopped, and, well, they’re not just nightmares. Something happened in Geneva, and I see it over and over in my dreams. I’d like to tell you about it. Not now, but sometime.”

  Nick looked up from his meal. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he said absentmindedly, pulling his notebook out. “Don’t mind me. I just want to write my opening while those images are still fresh in my mind.” He motioned to her burger. “Eat, will ya? You’re still pale.”

  Abby picked at her cheeseburger and stared into her tumbler of scotch, twirling it in her hand. She saw the woman from Geneva, her glittering bracelet, and when she looked deeper, she saw Mariyah’s scars. She could almost hear their screams, and she felt sick to her stomach. She pushed the drink and the cheeseburger away.

  “What about Hana and her boy? Was he taken as part of this?” The very idea was sickening, but Abby had to ask. “Would someone take a child?”

  The questions seemed to catch Nick off guard. “Well, yeah. Anything’s possible.”

  Abby felt defeated. Nick seemed somehow unaffected by it all, but perhaps he’d just seen it all before. “Anytime you’re ready.”

  Nick looked up. “You’re not eating?” He reached over and snatched the pickle from her plate.

  “I’m just not hungry, but don’t worry—I don’t want this either.” She handed him the tumbler of scotch.

  Nick took the glass and leaned his head back. “You’re the perfect woman, Abby. I get my food and liquor, and yours too.”

  Abby smiled despite herself. He did have a way of making her feel less terrible, and today that seemed like a gift.

  “You sure about leaving? You want to stay and talk about Geneva?”

  “Another time definitely, just not today. I want to see if I can speak with Najeela, if she’s at the house, that is, and ask about helping out at the rescue house, maybe do some health programs there. What do you think?”

  A broad smile broke out on Nick’s face. “I think you’re a damn fine woman, Abby, that’s what I think. Come on.” He slid from his chair. “Let’s go.”

  • • •

  The house was quiet when Abby arrived home, and when she opened the door to her room, she sensed right away that something was amiss. Sunlight streamed in, bathing the room in soft shadows, and she saw that the drawer to her nightstand was ajar, her notebook lying open on the floor. She picked it up and watched as Eric’s e-mail fluttered out. Had she left her drawer open, knocked the notebook to the floor in her hurry to leave this morning? Maybe, she thought, maybe she had.

  Abby exhaled and went in search of Najeela. When she stepped into the hallway, a smiling Najeela appeared.

  “Well,” Najeela said, a sly grin on her face, “where have you been?”

  “Working,” Abby replied tersely. She was in no mood for Najeela’s whims today.

  “You work too hard. You need a social life, my friend. Any word from Eric? Does he want you back after all?”

  The question caught Abby off guard. They hadn’t spoken about Eric in weeks. At least it seemed that way. Had she mentioned his e-mail to Najeela? Her mind was a jumble, maybe she had told Najeela. “Why would you ask that?” she finally said.

  “Why not? He must miss you.”

  Abby hesitated again. Had Najeela read the e-mail? Had she been in Abby’s room? There was that one time . . .

  “Najeela?”

  “Darling,” Najeela said, interrupting her, “we are all sad when you are not here. Even my dear uncle Imtiaz pines for you.”

  Abby rolled her eyes and tried to change the subject. She wanted to talk about the trafficking victims. “Najeela, I’d like to speak with you about doing some extra work outside of the vaccination program.”

  “I’d love to chat, Abby, you know I would, but I have dinner plans, so it will have to wait. Tomorrow,” Najeela said, patting Abby’s hair. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

  Chapter 15

  Mariyah’s screams sliced through the morning quiet, and Abby froze. She watched helplessly as Mariyah, her yellow scarf billowing out into the wind, clung desperately to the railing. The man stood over her, then inexplicably, he pulled away and walked back into the room. Mariyah leaned over the balcony and pulled herself up and over the railing. As she stood on the thin ledge holding tight, Abby saw the diamond cuff bracelet twinkling on Mariyah’s wrist. Abby opened her mouth to shout, but the sound wouldn’t come. Suddenly, Mariyah let go of the railing and jumped, soaring through the air, the bracelet catching the light as she fell. Her screams echoed and bounced off the buildings as she fell to the street, where she landed with a thud that made Abby’s heart stop.

  A scream filled Abby’s throat.

  • • •

  And she sat upright. Her skin was damp with sweat again, her hair plastered against her forehead. Her sheets were drenched. Her hands trembled as she yanked the sheets away and pushed herself up and out of bed. She opened the blinds and let the morning sun stream in, but the sunlight did nothing to dissipate the terror and helplessness she felt. Her head began to pound and she sat back down on the bed and tried to rub the pain away, but the pain was immovable, and when her tears started up, she gave in helplessly to her misery. She understood how Mariyah’s story could haunt her, but to weave it into that same goddamn nightmare? Maybe it was that damn scotch.

  She had to talk to Nick.

  By the time Abby stepped from the shower, her headache and the haunting images from her dream had faded, leaving her with only a vague feeling of discomfort. She shimmied into a long cotton dress, and almost immediately the heat of the day seeped through to her skin. She piled her hair on top of her head, fanning herself with her hand. When she stepped into the dining room for coffee, a smiling Nick sat as though he’d been waiting. Abby smiled, relieved to see him.

  “Good morning,” he said. “I was heading to the Protection Tent to see Zara, but thought I’d stop and see how you were feeling, maybe scrounge some coffee.” His brow wrinkled. “You okay today?”

  “I . . .” Abby started to tell him about her dream, but she held back. Mariyah had just shared a horrific real-life story, and it somehow didn’t seem right to whine about Geneva and her miserable dreams just yet. “I’m fine. Have you seen Hana this morning? I’m starving.”

  “Haven’t seen her, but I did turn on the stove to heat water.”

  “I’ll grab toast.” Abby headed to the kitchen. She returned within minutes bearing a plastic tray with coffee, cups, toast, and jam. “Help yourself, but next time, you’re cooking.”

  Nick laughed. “You’re on.”

  Once they’d finished eating, Abby stood. “Can I tag along? I never know if I’ll have a car, and the clinic’s open today. I’d like to be there for Mariyah.”

  “Sounds good. I’d like the company.”

  “Will you clear the dishes?” she asked. “I just want to get online before we leave.”

  “Okay,” Nick said obligingly as he reached for the cups and scooped them up. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”

  Abby headed to the office, and within minutes she’d logged in to her e-mail account and dashed off quick messages to her mother and Emily. Almost as an afterthought, she clicked on Eric’s e-mail and read it one more time, lingering over his words.

  I hope you’ll take me back. My life is dreary without you.

  He loved her and missed her, he’d written. A sigh escaped from her lips. A couple of months ago he’d broken her heart, and now he wanted her back. Too late, she thought, her finger floating over the DELETE button.

  “Well, are you going to take the boyfriend back?” Abby turned to see a frowning Nick standing behind her, his hands in his pockets.

  “
Wh . . . what?” Abby heard the stutter in her voice. Had he been standing there reading the e-mail over her shoulder?

  Nick shrugged. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he said sheepishly. “My reporter’s instinct to snoop got the better of me. But, now that I’ve read it, the question is—will you take him back?”

  Abby shook her head. “None of your damn business, Nick.”

  “I hope that means no.” He smiled. “I mean, come on, give the rest of us a chance, will ya?”

  Abby fought the smile that threatened to erupt on her face. Nick had a way of totally disarming her, of making her forget why he aggravated her. She sighed and clicked DELETE. “Let’s just go.” She signed out of her e-mail.

  Abby slid into Nick’s old sedan and felt the beginning twitches of tension in the back of her neck. She rubbed at the spot to relieve the stiffness.

  “You okay? My snooping bothering you?”

  “It’s not you. It’s not even the damn e-mail. It’s Mariyah. Her story affected me more than I imagined.” Abby turned and peered at the passing scenery, all of it seeming quiet this morning. The traffic was light too, and even the beggars must have slept in. “What time is it?”

  “Nine thirty. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I’m wondering where everyone is. It’s just too quiet, the calm before the storm almost. Oh, hell, is there going to be some kind of demonstration today?”

  Nick shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything, and there’s usually some warning.” He eased the car onto the camp road and parked there. “But, nothing we can do about that now. I’m gonna head to the tent to have a look. Maybe Zara will be there. I’ll find you at the clinic later, okay?”

  Abby nodded, and looping her bag over her shoulder, she turned for the clinic. When she caught sight of the small building, she saw that there too things were quiet. A small group of women and babies huddled at the entrance. No long lines today it seemed. She poked her head into the clinic, and a flash of sudden movement caught her eye. Abby stepped back nervously, the sun’s glare impeding her view.

  “Abby,” a familiar voice called.

  “Mariyah?”

  “Yes.” She stepped outside, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I wait for you.”

  Abby reached out and caught Mariyah’s thin shoulders in a quick embrace. “How are you?” she whispered.

  “I good. I tell story, and I not die of shame, and no one look at me like I bad, so today I good, I very good.”

  “I’m glad, Mariyah.” Abby stepped into the clinic. A quick glance revealed that the small space was as empty inside as out. “Where is everyone?”

  “Today, only you and me. Simi and the nurses at distribution today.”

  “Distribution?”

  “UN give out food and supply rations. No lines today. Womens getting food, and nurses getting supplies.”

  Abby smiled. “Let’s get started then.” She stepped to the far corner and pulled out the syringes and vials she’d need. By the time she’d drawn up the first vaccine, a veiled woman appeared, holding out the frail arm of her baby. Abby checked the vaccine card and plucked a full syringe from her supply before turning to the baby. Abby moved so swiftly, the baby could only whimper in protest. She checked off the card and called her next patient. Engrossed in the work, she lost track of the time until Mariyah appeared before her.

  “All finish now. We talk?”

  Abby cleared her supplies from the seat and motioned for Mariyah to sit. “We’re a good team, you and I. Today went well.”

  “You good. You good to me, Abby. You my friend.”

  “I am.”

  “Yesterday, I tell women at my house about telling my bad things to you, how good it make me feel. They say, bring you to house. You come?”

  “I’d be honored. I’m not sure I should ask, but can Nick come as well? You know he’s writing the story?”

  “Acha.”

  Abby smiled. “He’ll be very pleased. He’s here in the camp. He went to the Protection Tent this morning looking for Zara. Is she there?”

  Mariyah shook her head. “She at distribution, but she come here after.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Nick striding toward her, and she smiled as he arrived at her side.

  He nodded at Mariyah. “Hello, Mariyah, how are you?”

  “I tell Abby”—she nodded at her—“I good.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Nick turned back to Abby. “You finished here?”

  “We are. Today’s a distribution day so it was quiet, but”—Abby glanced at Mariyah—“we have some good news for you.”

  “I could use some good news. I haven’t been able to connect with anyone today.”

  “Well, you’re about to connect big-time. Mariyah’s friends, the other women at the house, want to tell their stories.”

  “For my article?”

  “For Abby,” Mariyah said. “They want to be friend too. Understand?”

  Nick nodded and turned to Abby. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Acha,” Mariyah said softly.

  “Today?” Nick asked. “Can we do it today?”

  Before Mariyah could answer, Zara appeared. “Good morning. Has Mariyah told you the news?”

  Nick pulled a small notebook from his pocket. “She has. I was just asking if we can do it today.”

  “Sorry, Nick. Not today. We can do it tomorrow at the house, but if you have a car, you could bring us back there today, and you’ll know where we are.”

  “I’ll do that.” Nick turned and pointed to the parking area. “Shall we just go?”

  Abby took Mariyah’s hand and led the way, and suddenly a low rumbling filled the air, followed by bursts of gunfire and shouts. “Back to the clinic,” Abby shouted, struggling to be heard over the approaching din.

  The four raced back to the safety of the clinic, forming a small knot there at the doorway.

  “Riot,” Abby said as Nick turned to face her. “Ignore your reporter’s instinct and just stay put. It’ll pass quickly, and then we can go.”

  Nick’s mouth fell open. “You seem pretty relaxed. How do you know that’s what it is?”

  “I’ve been through this once already.” She felt curiously calm.

  “I’m impressed,” he said with a definite hint of admiration.

  They huddled there and listened as the gunfire and shouts increased in intensity and seemed to move closer. “We should step back inside,” Abby said. “We need to be out of sight. To quote you, the last thing they need to see is a couple of Americans.”

  They stepped back into the clinic’s shadows and waited. Pulling out his notebook, Nick squinted in the dim light that seeped in.

  “Too dark to write, but my recorder will catch it.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled out his tape recorder, snapping it on and holding it up to the entryway.

  They stood in silence and listened as the noise swelled and dimmed before disappearing altogether.

  Zara stepped outside. “I think it’s all over now. Ready?”

  Nick packed up his recorder and fished in his pocket for his keys. “Ready,” he said, striding back into the harsh sunlight.

  Once at the car, Zara reached for the rear door handles. “Mariyah and I will sit in back. It would not look right if either of us sat next to a man, especially a foreign man.” Zara pulled open the rear door and Mariyah slipped in.

  Abby settled into the front seat, and Zara leaned forward and directed Nick along a serpentine route that seemed to wind and circle through the same narrow streets before they finally reached their destination, a quiet road filled with small nondescript houses on the outskirts of University Town.

  “Not bad,” Nick said, surveying the area as he parked by a high, white fence.

  “It is safer for the house to be here, away from the slums that most of the women know so well.”

  “Makes sense,” Nick said as Zara and Mariyah slid from the backseat.

  “Tomorrow
at ten?” Zara asked.

  Abby nodded and watched as the two disappeared through the front gate. Abby sat back, lost in her thoughts as Nick drove. She’d not only just lived through her second perilously close riot, she’d taken charge. And Mariyah had liked her enough to invite her to meet her friends. The clinic, though quiet, had gone well. Abby smiled to herself. As if that weren’t enough, she’d even managed to get Nick more interviews.

  As the car took the last corner before Abby’s house, Nick broke the silence. “To say I’ve underestimated you is a major understatement.”

  “Glad you figured that out, Nick. Doesn’t this occasion call for scotch?”

  “It does.” Nick maneuvered the car into a spot by Abby’s house. “But, believe it or not, I’m going to ask for a rain check and see if I can chase down those rioters.”

  Feeling oddly disappointed, Abby grimaced. “Keep your head down,” she said softly. “I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”

  “Hell, Abby, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He reached over and touched her shoulder.

  A small bit of inexplicable joy rippled through her skin, and Abby, caught off guard, jerked back. Smiling uncomfortably, she slipped from the car. “See you tomorrow,” she said, hurrying to the gate.

  Chapter 16

  The following morning, Nick arrived early. “You ready?” he asked brusquely.

  “Good morning to you too,” Abby said, more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Things were back to normal, she thought. They were probably better this way, sticking to banter and baiting. Whatever she’d felt yesterday, her common sense told her she should just ignore it. Her life was complicated enough.

  “Help yourself to coffee.” She pointed to the full pot.