by Raina Ash
“Why would it be fake? It’s cashmere.”
“Sometimes things are a rip-off. Hopefully, that’s not the case with yours.”
“It’s not.” Allison prayed they were getting close to the riad. “Well, tell me about yourself. What do you do for work?”
“Why the sudden interest? So far, all I’ve seen you do is follow Noah around like a puppy. I told you he has a thing for blondes.”
“So? Just because he prefers cotton candy doesn’t mean he can’t sample champagne.”
“Are you comparing yourself to food? Isn’t that a non-feminist thing to say, indicating you’re an object to be used and discarded?”
Allison laughed. “There’s something called ‘empowerment.’ I’m owning my needs and taking charge.”
Paul stopped at a merchant selling food and pastries. He got the man’s attention and then pointed at a case. “Regardless, this has no relevance to me,” Paul said while finishing his purchase. “I was wondering why you were interested in chit chat. If you want to talk about something else, like art, that’s fine.” He handed her a pastry while taking a bite of the one he bought for himself.
Allison took it. “Oh, thanks. What is this?”
“It’s called m’ssemen. It’s like a pancake. I passed on the butter and honey you traditionally dip it in because it’d be too messy while walking. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten since lunch.” He took another bite and nodded his head in approval.
“Well, thank you. That was thoughtful.” She tasted the m’ssemen. It was similar to a pancake. “You like art?”
“I almost became an art major in college, but chose a more practical career. I took several art history classes. Next week, I’m visiting Egypt to check out the Bent Pyramid. It’s not what most people visit, but it’s less touristy. And I find it more intriguing because it was an earlier pyramid, built before Giza. They appeared to have made several mistakes while building it, so its existence rules out that ancient alien idea those crazy conspiracy folks entertain. Most tourists don’t care about real historical locations. Too many people consume history but don’t appreciate it.”
“Bent was the one built by King Sneferu, right?” Allison said. “I’ve always found those older pyramids much more interesting, too. I took art history, but all these things, these locations, that were so radical at the time and helped advance our knowledge and understanding of the world...people treat them like trash nowadays. I can’t tell you how many posts on Instagram I’ve seen of people going somewhere like Giza to get a selfie or to strike some stupid pose to get likes and shares. That’s all they want. Travel all that way to get a selfie for likes and shares. It took thousands of years to build those pyramids by a passionate culture. But people make their accomplishments nothing more than backdrops. What’s the purpose of getting likes online that no one will remember? Making art out of passion is something that endures and shapes history. Selfies don’t shape history. Not the ones I’ve seen.”
Paul took a few moments to eat his m’ssemen and consider her words. “I never heard it put that way. I like that way of framing it.”
They walked forward, both lost in thought.
Paul stopped and looked around. “You know, I don’t think this is the right direction. Which way were you headed before?”
“Oh,” Allison said. She bit her lip, not wanting to admit the truth. “I wasn’t...I mean, I was lost when I saw you.”
It was the first time she saw Paul smile. “Were you now?” he said. “This all makes sense now.” He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down the street. “Okay, let’s figure this out. Anything look familiar?”
Allison noticed a shop that sold scarfs. “Yes! That’s the shop where I bought the scarf and it was the second or third shop I visited when I entered.” She walked to the shop and scanned the area like a detective looking for clues. “And I stopped to touch the pyramid figurines over there.”
They both walked across the street.
“I got it,” Allison said. “This way.”
“Are you sure? Now that I think about it, it might be-”
“Yes, I’m sure it’s down this way.”
“Okay,” Paul said. “I’ll give you the lead.”
He followed her down the street and around the corner. The bazaar opened to a small side path that led back to the main road. They were soon standing in front of the riad.
Allison raised her hands in victory. “Yes, we did it. I can’t believe I was so close before. Thanks for helping me find the way.” She held out her palm for a high-five.
Paul frowned. “I’m not doing that.”
“Okay, fine. I’m trying to enjoy my vacation and fill my heart with joy here.”
Paul laughed. “I think you’re trying to fill something, but it’s not your heart.”
Allison stared at him until she understood his innuendo. She burst out laughing and the two of them spent a moment enjoying the joke.
“Well, let’s go to dinner,” she said. “I’ll see if I can get that filled.”
Paul shook his head, smiling as they walked into the riad together. They found the rest of their group in a small dining hall. They were sitting on pillows around a square table sharing food from various bowls and plates.
“There ya two are,” Noah said. “Come eat.”
“Sorry for the delay,” Allison said in her best flirty voice, smiling at Noah. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”
Noah winked at her and she thought she heard Paul scoff as they both sat down.
They sat next to each other on the only two available pillows. It was impossible for their knees not to touch because the seating arrangements were so cramped. Their shoulders constantly rubbed together. Paul stiffened a bit as he spooned food onto his plate.
One of the blondes, possibly Natasha, was sitting on Allison’s other side, and she touched Allison’s shoulder eagerly. “I’ve been showing everyone my bracelet,” she said, raising her arm to flash the sparkly gems wrapped around her wrist. “I don’t think it’s real, but I don’t care. It’s pretty.”
“Uh, yeah, it sure is,” Allison said. She wanted to make a side comment to Paul, but he was already talking to Todd about the weather.
“What’d you find?” Natasha beamed.
“Oh, a scarf for my friend.”
“Sweet. Can I see?”
Allison turned to grab the bag behind her, accidentally hitting Paul in the side with her elbow. He glanced at her with an unreadable expression. “Sorry,” she said. He turned back to Todd. Normally, someone would’ve said, “It’s okay,” or “No worries.” It was like he had switched off with no explanation. Weren’t they just outside being friendly and joking? He was also being playful earlier at lunch. Now he was distant.
She dismissed his rudeness and found the scarf to show Natasha.
“Wow,” Natasha said, grabbing the scarf and wrapping it around her neck. “So beautiful. I’ve got to go back tomorrow and get one myself. Did they have any colors to match my bracelet?” She took the scarf off and returned it to Allison. “What shop was it?”
“She doesn’t know,” Paul cut in. “But many shops sell them.”
Allison couldn’t tell if he was making a joke and failed miserably, or if he really was that rude. She gave Natasha an apologetic smile. “So what else did you buy?” she said.
She spent the rest of dinner talking to Natasha (or rather, listening to Natasha) and ignoring Paul, who seemed happy to ignore her back. Noah kept passing her wine, and she kept accepting it, even after everyone else had stopped drinking. Towards the end of the evening, she got way too drunk to interact, so she fell silent as everyone else conversed. She closed her eyes.
Someone touched her arm. “Let’s get you to bed.”
She looked up and saw Paul hovering over her. They were the only ones there.
“Where is everyone?” she said.
“They went to bed for the night. You’ve been sitting here sleeping.”
>
She brushed his hand away. “I have not. I only had some wine and closed my eyes a minute.”
“Come on.” He grabbed her elbow and pulled up, coaxing her to her feet.
She grabbed her bag and let him guide her down a tan hallway lined with strips of deep blue tiles. She held his arm for balance. Now that she was standing, the floor seemed unsteady.
“You’re kind of a jerk, Paul,” she said, letting the booze form her words.
“Yeah, I’ve been told that. I can’t say I know why.”
“Because you give off the wrong signals. You’re friendly then you’re not and no one knows what you are.” She interlocked their arms, noticing his strong bicep. She squeezed it with her free hand, not thinking about what she was doing. They stopped in front of a door.
“Here’s your room,” Paul said, pulling his arm away. “Can you get in the room yourself?”
She started to say yes but then her eyes widened. “I don’t know where my key is.”
He laughed, taking on a charming demeanor once again. “You drank way too much.”
“See? You did it again.”
“What do you mean?”
She jabbed his shoulder with a finger. “You are friendly again but three seconds ago it was like nothing. A stone expression.”
He shook his head. “Let’s get you inside. Check you pockets for the key.”
She did as requested and found the key buried in her pants pocket. She grinned at him. “Thank you so much. You’ve been great. Sometimes.” She couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed, but he grabbed the key from her hand and opened the door.
He ushered her inside but hesitated to leave, looking her up and down. “Are you going to be okay? I’m a little concerned you might pass out on the bathroom floor.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I’m a grown-ass woman. Of course I can handle my liquor.” She curled her arms like a bodybuilder, flexing non-existence muscles.
He gave her a disbelieving look. “I should wait here until you’re in bed sleeping.”
“No, I’m sure you need to go.” She stumbled back a step and looked at his shoes. He wore brown leather boots that had seen better days - the kind of boots that only looked that way after years of trekking through the world, soles threatening to fall apart. Boots you might cherish after years of dedicated service. Her father had those boots. Isaac had those boots. Noah, too. The worn boots of a traveler who never stays in one place too long. Tears filled her bottom eyelid.
“Allison?” Paul said, moving closer.
She couldn’t speak, so she nodded and then stumbled into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Stupid Paul and his stupid boots. Stupid men that act loving and nice only to leave. Why were men in her life always travelers? And why did she always fall for them?
She wiped her face with a damp washcloth, cleaning all the makeup and dirt from her skin, wiping away all the tears she wouldn’t let herself shed. She opened the door, expecting Paul to be gone. He was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He stood, looking uncomfortable, but his gaze had softened. “Will you be okay by yourself?”
The stupid tears came back. She managed a nod.
“Why don’t you lay on the bed and get some sleep? I’ll set an alarm for you. Where’s your phone?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked around. “I don’t know.” She checked her back pocket and found it. She held out the phone, and he walked closer to take it.
“Finger,” he said.
“What?”
He took her hand and pressed her index finger into the little metal button on the back of the phone. The screen unlocked. His touch was soothing. She studied him as he searched through the apps for the clock. Though he was rough around the edges, she could see him as a caring, attentive man. Some men might try to take advantage of a drunk woman, but Paul was more concerned about getting her to sleep.
“I think I like your boots,” she said. “I’ve always wanted a pair I can call my own.”
He looked up from the phone but dismissed her comment. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said softly, putting a hand on her arm.
She lost the battle with alcohol to resist her urges. Paul was too close and the warmth of his body too intoxicating. She kissed him, pressing in close. In her drunken daze, she imagined him kissing her back. He tossed the phone on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and secure. Her whole body melted into the embrace as he brought a hand to cradle the back of her neck, deepening their kiss.
She savored the softness of his lips and the ache in her body she hadn’t felt in years. She imagined playing with the button of his jeans, and then him pushing her back onto the bed. He broke the kiss, tucking her under the covers and moving her phone to the nightstand. She closed her eyes and heard the door close. Then she was asleep.
Chapter Six
THE NEXT MORNING, THURSDAY, Allison woke with a stabbing headache. What happened the night before? She remembered leaving the bazaar with Paul and going to dinner, but it was hazy after that. She glanced down, noticing she was still in the same clothes.
“I hope I didn’t do something embarrassing at dinner,” she mumbled as she dragged herself to the bathroom. As the hot bath soaked into her skin, waking her and easing the headache, her spirits lifted. She’d finally get some much-needed time with Noah. Just them, the camels, and the desert. Hopefully, with some adult play. Either way, she was ready to escape the group, especially Paul and his mixed signals, and see what it was like having a real adventure.
“Isaac would never believe I could be so daring,” she said while braiding her hair. She packed her stuff and rushed down to the lobby.
After a few minutes of waiting, Noah appeared and waved at her. “G’day. Ready for fun?”
“I am,” she said.
“Ace, let’s go. No need to say goodbye to the others.” He grabbed one of her suitcases. “That’s how life is. People pop in and out, brief blips on the radar.”
“Lucky for us we have a few more days together.” She smiled and followed him outside, taking one last glance at the elegant hotel lobby.
Noah stopped at a plain white van with dark windows. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll put your bags in back.”
She slid the van door open and froze. “Paul?”
He was reading a magazine. He looked up, and she expected the same detached stare he gave her most of the trip. Instead, she found question and concern painted across his face. “Good morning.”
“Why are you here?”
He looked back down at the magazine. “To ride camels. Same as you.”
“I’m going to ride a camel and Noah’s going to ride a camel. But why are you going to ride a camel?”
“I paid for it.” He didn’t have his usual challenging tone, so it threw her off. She expected more confrontation.
Noah patted her back. “Hop in, Allie. I forgot to tell ya there’s a small change. Paul’s flight canceled, so he’s gonna join us a bit before the next one. It’s always better fun with more blokes, is what I always say.” He put his hand on the passenger door while Allison climbed in. Then he pushed it closed.
She sat down next to Paul and stared at him, trying to figure out why he was acting so uncharacteristic. He ignored her.
The driver turned around to wave. “I’m Hasan, and it is my pleasure to be driving you today. It will be six hours to our destination, so please relax. We will make stops, so please do not worry. Is anyone hungry? I have snacks and water.”
“Thanks, mate,” Noah said. He grabbed a granola bar from the console.
While Noah and the driver talked, Allison continued to stare at Paul.
“How did you sleep?” he said.
“Fine, I guess. You?”
“Fine.”
“Why do you ask?” she said.
He turned a page in the magazine. “You were pretty drunk last night.”
“That’s what I figured.” She slumped a
gainst the back of her seat. “I don’t remember.”
He made eye contact. “You don’t remember anything?”
She held his gaze, trying to peer through the fog covering her thoughts. Natasha had wanted to see her scarf and Paul acted cold during dinner, but that was it. She looked at his boots. Something was there in her memory but she couldn’t piece it together. She shrugged. “No. Why? Did I say something dumb?”
He shook his head and returned to reading. “You drank and then went to bed.”
She was certainly confused and Paul wasn’t helping. She crossed her arms and looked out the window.
The entire drive to their destination was uneventful and boring. As usual, Allison didn’t talk to Noah much because he was busy talking with someone else (Hasan in this case), and she was mad at Paul and chose not to engage with him. He didn’t seem bothered either way and spent the ride reading different magazines. She watched the shifting scenery outside the window. They started to drive through mountains of lush, green forests. Though the bigger cities had modern streets, technology, and thriving business centers, the outskirts were rugged and full of nomads and other village inhabitants. It amazed her that the world held so much variety. Even though technology literally circled the Earth and sent information zooming through the airways, people still lived in remote places, off the grid, experiencing life in a way similar to their ancestors. Berbers still lived in tents and raised animals for food and didn’t concern themselves with being connected to anything except the land.
She pulled out her cell phone to snap a few pictures. Technology at least gave her a way to capture special moments. When she looked back at those pictures, she might feel the same inspiration and connection she felt in the van ride.
After two quick breaks and one stop for lunch, they arrived at the small village where they’d start their camel adventure.
As Noah grabbed luggage out of the back, Paul touched Allison’s arm before she jumped out of the van.
“Hey,” he said, lowering his voice. “I know you don’t want me here but don’t worry. I won’t interfere with any of your plans involving Noah. My flight really did screw me over and I need to pass some time.”