by Raina Ash
THROUGH THE
Sandstorm
Raina Ash
Pink Fox Publishing
THROUGH THE SANDSTORM
Copyright © 2019 by Raina Ash
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or fictionalized.
Published by Pink Fox Publishing
With love and thanks to Charles and Terry for patiently reading all my crazy stories and giving such amazing feedback.
Chapter One
SAND. SUN. NO WAY HOME. Allison dropped to her knees and shut her eyes. The endless dunes of the Sahara surrounded her in all directions, and she was a tiny speck waiting to be swallowed. She dug her fingers into the red sand and let out a deep, long breath.
What am I going to do?
Allison was miles from the village, alone, and on the verge of collapsing. Would anyone come back for her? Could she even be found?
She fell onto her back and covered her face with a white scarf to block the sun.
What am I going to do?
✽✽✽
TWO MONTHS EARLIER
Allison pulled her left knee up, crossed her foot over the other leg, and then turned her shoulders to achieve what was known in yoga as “a spinal twist.” She glanced at the video on her laptop screen a few feet away on the floor.
“Take a moment now to breathe. Let life unfold around you,” the woman on the YouTube video said. “Whatever may happen, give yourself this moment, this single beautiful moment, to feel grateful for everything you have. Set your intentions for the day. Breathe. Let the energy flow and circulate throughout your entire being. Good. Deep breath. And release. Now let’s move into cat-cow.”
Allison sat back on her knees and waited. Her butt never arched high enough for cat-cow, and it was uncomfortable, so she always passed. After a few moments, she dug her feet into the padding of her new yoga mat (the first one she ever bought) and attempted to contort her body into the next pose. Her spine wouldn’t bend far enough, and her shoulders were too stiff, but she did what she could.
The perky voice continued. “...lengthening through the spine. Breathe. Fantastic. Now we come to our final position, corpse pose. Spread out wide on your back, legs and limbs still. Stay like this as long as you need. Think about everything you’re thankful for and everything you hope to experience throughout your day. Remember that life is a wonderful journey. Open your heart to the possibilities. Trust whatever path you’re currently on and you’ll soon arrive in a safe, welcoming place. Journey forth my little yogis in peace and happiness. Namaste.”
Allison sighed. Maybe life was an amazing adventure for Summer, her friend who made the yoga videos, but the only thing she felt thankful for that day was grabbing the last K-Cup of cinnamon coffee. Most mornings her coffee was flavorless.
“I am thankful for cinnamon coffee,” she said out loud. “And for my cat, Mocha. He’s a sweet, loving kitty.” She listened to the gentle piano music playing in Summer’s video and tried to imagine herself in the same location as her friend: along the canals of Venice watching boats float along the water. Time stood still as she soaked in the amazing orange sky.
She and Summer attended the same high school, two opposites that somehow worked perfectly together. Summer was the outcast, Allison the popular girl. When Summer transferred to Allison’s school in the middle of sophomore year, she watched her sit by herself every day at lunch and get teased by their peers. So she took Summer under her wing, helping her find the confidence she lacked.
Though they were besties, their lives soon took very different paths. Allison blamed it on her one fatal mistake: rejecting Jason Saunders when he asked her out in World History class. He was nerdy and followed her around too much. But he was friendly and seemed to genuinely like her. After she turned him down, he skipped school for two days, then reappeared with a sudden interest in Summer.
Having never been asked out, Summer gladly responded to Jason’s affections. They dated junior and senior years of high school. The day after graduation, Jason informed her that his dad owned several vacation rentals (and thus had a lot of money), and he had set up a travel fund that Jason could now access. He swept Summer off to exotic locales around the world for the rest of that year. He became tan and muscular while Summer lost thirty pounds and developed into a boho vegan world traveler. They eventually grew apart and broke up, but Summer continued her adventures, started an online lifestyle brand. The rest was history.
In contrast, Allison was fashionable, flirty, active in clubs and debate teams, and notorious for only dating the top ten percent of popular guys. First, there was Brad, then Tyler, then Alex, then Jeremiah, and then Boris (an exchange student she thought would be “the one” even though he barely spoke English). The list went on until college where she focused on obtaining her marketing degree and developed a monotonous routine.
Her early and mid-twenties were very typical, full of broken relationships, drama, career struggles, and lots of disappointments. In her late twenties, she met Isaac. They got engaged. Life was great for two years. Then he dumped her to fuck models in Italy. Typical of jerks who travel.
Summer explored and had thousands of YouTube followers all because of Allison’s one regrettable mistake. Allison should’ve been the one making yoga videos in Europe and getting paid to meet hot random travelers. She dreamed of being carefree and unattached and full of joy. She just needed the right environment. Instead, she was at an office in the “nap and meditation” room failing at yoga in her underwear (with the door locked, of course) and wanting to go home to crawl into bed. She wasn’t looking forward to returning to an already hectic workday. She closed her laptop and put her pants back on.
As soon as she opened the door to the hallway, squinting against the bright fluorescent lights, a paid ad specialists from her department greeted her.
“Hey,” he said, clutching his iPhone. “Good nap?”
Allison motioned for him to follow her down the hallway. “Don’t worry about chitchat. What’s wrong?”
“Well, uh, that Google Ad that went live yesterday? For Stacy Anderson Designs? It, uh, well, it wasn’t me. I only set it up. Darcy was in charge of budgets. She added an extra zero for the daily budget.”
Allison stopped outside of her office door. “So you spent the entire week’s budget in one day. Is that correct?”
He looked down and nodded.
“Alright. I’ll talk to Darcy and you later. Pause the campaign. I’ll call Stacy and explain what happened.”
“Uh, Stacy Anderson already knows. She sent several angry emails while you were napping.”
Allison adjusted her blouse so it wasn’t tucked into her pants so tight. “Wonderful. Of course she found out. That woman is like a vulture, circling and waiting to eat.” Allison glanced at the paid ad specialist as he tried to glance at his phone unnoticed. “Just get back to work,” she said. “I’ll figure it out.”
He scurried away as she walked into her office and shut the door. She wanted to give her employees the benefit of the doubt and not micromanage. She did. But every time she relaxed the reins ad copy was wrong. Or someone overspent a budget. Or a dozen other disasters popped up. She certainly couldn’t run her whole department alone. But if sh
e wasn’t in control and on top of things at all times, everything fell apart. Story of her life.
She sat at her desk and swiveled the chair to enjoy the grass and trees outside her L.A. office window. After one last fantasy of sipping mimosas along the shore, with a hunk who looked like Ryan Reynolds (and offered to rub her feet every evening), she logged into her desktop computer and picked up the phone. She was tempted to record on paper how many times Stacy Anderson used the phrase “absolutely useless,” but instead she focused on getting the situation handled quickly.
✽✽✽
After lunch, when Allison’s headache changed from a dull throb to mild pressure, she noticed an email from Summer that got sorted into spam. It was from three days prior. She opened it. Though she was envious of Summer, they really were best friends. It read:
Hey Ally Cat! I’m in the Amazon right now. Can you believe that shit?? It’s amazing! But I’ve had to wear tons of bug spray and the guides say to watch out for deadly creatures. I’ll only be here another day then I’m flying back to the States. Cheers to finally having cell service! We should chat soon. Send me a text when you get this and we’ll hook it up, grrl. Check out this snake. He’s fucking lit! (that’s how the kids these days talk, right? And I don’t mean I actually set the snake on fire, FYI) XOXO Dim Sum
Allison smiled at the thought of her friend holding a flaming snake. The picture attached to the email was of Summer in jeans and a crop top wearing a wide-brimmed hat. She held a large black snake in her arms. A beautiful jungle filled the background and a handsome dark-skinned man stood next to her with his hands out, ready to catch the snake if it fell.
She sent Summer a quick text and received an instant reply. Call me, call me, call me! It read. I got an exciting offer for you that will expire in 30 min. Just like HSN. Call now!
Allison laughed and opened a video chat on her computer.
Summer’s face popped on the screen, hair secured haphazardly in a bun (in a way that’d still drive men crazy). Her rosy cheeks pushed into her eyes as she grinned. “Ally,” she said. “I said call, not video. Gosh, I don’t have my day face yet.”
“You look flawless as always,” Allison said. “Besides, it’s one p.m.”
“It is?” Summer looked at the corner of her screen. “Well, it’s more like three here. I’ve been...preoccupied.” She smiled at someone off-screen.
“Another piece of man meat?” Allison said.
“Eww, don’t phrase it that way. He’s my sexy dark chocolate.” She motioned for the man to move closer. The same dark-skinned man from her picture appeared and waved.
“Hi,” Allison said. “Did she drop the snake?”
He looked confused, then smiled. “No, no. Snake is good.”
“Anyway,” Summer said, shooing the man away. “He’s my travel buddy right now. Got him here on a quick visa. But,” she walked outside onto a balcony and Allison could see skyscrapers in the distance, “that’s not why I wanted to talk. What have you been up to? Anything exciting?”
Allison sighed and slouched into the back of her chair. She reviewed her week. She couldn't remember what she’d done, it was so routine. “Exciting? Well, last night at trivia there was a bachelorette party. Team Bride played and every time they answered correctly, the bride-to-be danced for everyone. It was entertaining. My team lost. The bachelorette party lost, too, but some dudes bought them free drinks.”
Summer’s face appeared frozen, unblinking.
“Hello?” Allison said. “You still have a signal?”
“No, I’m here. I can’t believe you said that. Your exciting event is about other people having fun? Honestly, I’m worried, Ally Cat. What happened to wanting adventure? You say you want to travel but never follow through.”
Allison looked past the computer monitor to a dying plant in the corner. “I have a job that requires overtime. And I was dumped by a man wanting non-stop partying in another country. Sans moi. You know how that affected me.”
“Well, Isaac was an asshole. I hope he got himself twenty STDs or something. But that was three years ago. It’s time to see what’s out there and have fun. You’ve always been there for me during stormy weather, so I’m here for you to get you motivated.”
Allison half-shrugged.
“So listen,” Summer continued, moving her phone closer so her entire face filled the screen. “I’m taking you to Africa. Like, as soon as you can go.”
“And why do I want to go to Africa?” Allison said. Summer’s comment reminded her about a client who was starting a new Google shopping campaign for African art. She started to write notes in her day planner.
“...amazing adventure,” Summer was saying. “Hey, are you even listening here? Stop working!”
“Okay, okay, Africa. Why do you think I’m going to Africa?”
“A few months ago,” Summer continued, “I traveled across the sand dunes in Morocco with this super-hot Australian guy that lives there. He’s a tour guide. He showed me around first and then we rode camels. I visited small Berber towns, those are the nomads there, and some larger cities. It was unlike anything I ever expected. We slept in a tent under the stars. We surfed the dunes and sat in drum circles and sang songs. I’ve been to so many places. What I saw in Morocco is so unique, so different. You become so at peace with the universe looking out at the beautiful sand.” She paused to ensure Allison was still listening.
“I’m here,” Allison said. “Go on.”
“It was beyond words. I can’t describe it, so you need to experience it for yourself. Every year I call and offer to whisk you away somewhere you’ve never seen, but you always say no. You need a vacation. Big time. All you have to do is pay for your plane ticket and food, and I’ll do the rest. I know this guy who does travel vacations. He’ll hook me up with all the accommodations at a huge discount. Well, hook you up. It’ll be at places in Morocco. You’ll stay in different cities, see the sights, then Noah, that’s the Australian hottie, he’ll take you on a three-day camel tour of the Sahara. When you get back, you’ll fly to Cairo, and I’ll meet you there so we can visit the pyramids. We’ll rock out the rest of the trip, girls only. This is a two-week adventure for you. C’mon, say yes this time. Please. Please.”
The calendar on the office wall showed a picture of the beach. Last year, Summer offered her a trip to Vietnam. The year before that, it was Canada and Ireland. Other offers included Iceland, France, Fiji, Alaska, and Brazil. Not that those trips didn’t sound fantastic. She knew if she left for a few weeks, even one day, her entire department would fall into chaos. And she had other obligations. She had a cat to feed. Her trivia group was trying to make playoffs. A flight across the world was long and tiring. She needed to buy a suitcase. Her passport might not be valid (if she could even find it). Trips were chaotic and required an attitude of “going with the flow.” Thinking about it caused acid to rise in her throat.
Deep down, she yearned to be more uninhibited. Summer connected to people with no strings attached and no expectations. But Summer also never had her heart shattered, and she grew up with a father who loved her. And she didn’t have a traditional workplace that depended on her to keep things together.
Allison, on the other hand, was dumped by her fiancé of four years, had a father who abandoned her and possessed a more pessimistic worldview. Anxiety was a problem. She liked routine too much. Her life was comfortable with no chance of getting hurt by some jerk. Maybe if she had made different decisions early on life would be different. That wasn’t how it played out for her, though. Allison was filled with regret about the past, and she never moved beyond her comfort zones. Africa wasn’t somewhere she ever pictured herself going. She regretted not accepting the previous trip to Fiji. Beach sand was way better than desert sand.
“There’s a lot going on in my life,” Allison said.
“What do you have going on besides your work and trivia nights? Are your plans to go home today and re-season your cast-iron skillet?”
> Allison frowned. “No, that’s lame. Who does that?” She grabbed a pen carefully so Summer wouldn’t notice and wrote a note: re-season skillet this weekend.
Summer plopped into a patio chair and extended her arms out, revealing the adorable flowery crop top and jean shorts she wore. “I care about you. You’re my girl. Let’s go live while we’re still young and have these super sexy bods. Let’s make memories and forget about all those asshole men you dated, especially Isaac. Come to the Sahara. Commune with the spectacular beauty of the Earth and hook up with Noah. His dick is fucking huge. So huge!”
Allison laughed. “How huge is it?”
“It’s like porn star huge. Bigger. And he’s super ripped. He’ll make you feel like the hottest woman on the planet.”
“While I’m all sweaty and gross from being in the desert sun?”
“No, no. Do it at night.”
They both laughed.
“You’re crazy,” Allison said.
“So, c’mon. Will you go this time? It’ll be unforgettable. I promise.”
“I don’t know. I’ll consider it and get back to you.”
“Hey, that’s more than last time. Really think about it, okay? I’ll email you details right now. You can make your flight for any time you want and I’ll work around it.”
“Okay. You have fun with dark chocolate and I’ll call you later.”
Summer smiled. “Okay. Talk again soon. By-ee.”
Allison waved at the screen and they disconnected. She sighed and looked at the fresh emails that had arrived in her inbox. More emergencies. She opened her internet browser and searched for images of Morocco and the Sahara desert. The screen populated with tan and white buildings crowded along hillsides, a marketplace with thousands of dazzling lights, sandstone structures, ocean shores, and the endless red dunes of the desert. She clicked to enlarge an image of several people wearing turbans and scarves while riding on camels. She tried to picture herself doing the same. She couldn’t.