Читать книгу Desire In The Desert - Ryshia Kennie - Страница 22

Chapter Thirteen

Tuesday, September 15, 10:00 a.m.

They were heading south and east with a slight wind that was causing the unseasonal light rain to lash against the windshield, turning the sand hitting the glass into a paste that slid along the window, obscuring the view. The Jeep’s wipers beat a losing rhythm that wasn’t enough to keep the window clear. They’d had to stop frequently to clear the clogged wipers.

The charts Kate had checked on her flight to Morocco had indicated the local weather had been unpredictable for the last few weeks. Now, that same unpredictability, the unseasonal and unusual rain, was making for slow going, and the abnormally cool daytime temperature wasn’t helping.

“You’re okay?” he asked. His hand ran along her wrist and the heat that ran through her at his touch made her shiver.

“Fine.” She nodded, pulling her hand free and pushing a strand of hair back. It didn’t help. Her nerves were on edge—and not because of the assignment but because of his nearness, because of what he made her feel. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be and yet that awareness had been between them from the beginning.

The Jeep rocked as Emir made a slight turn to the right, adjusting for the ridges in the sand and the breeze that was now a buffeting wind. The vehicle slid as the tires kicked up sand chewed out of the ruts it was creating.

Her finger was on the map, marking where they were and where they were going. The journey had been slow. They’d had to adjust their direction a number of times. She reached for the grab bar with her right hand as the Jeep’s back tires spun and for a moment it seemed like they might get stuck in the middle of nowhere.

She looked at the compass. They were going by latitude and longitude. It was a get-back-to-basics way to travel. Even the Jeep was basic, built for this type of expedition without tracking or mapping. It reminded her how easy Google Maps had made everything.

She glanced at Emir and saw the brutal way he clasped the vehicle’s steering wheel, as if it were someone’s neck.

They drove in silence and yet with the promise of hope between them.

The landscape began to change as another hour ticked by. Now the flat sand and occasional rolling dunes had become steeper and were framed by larger ridges that signaled imminent foothills. The rain was gone and the desert looked like it always had—clearly, like there’d been no rain in months.

“We’re getting close,” Kate said. “Maybe twenty miles from El Dewar.” So far they’d made poor time, a combination of both the terrain and the weather. “No one knows the desert like the Berbers,” she added as Emir navigated a small dune. “Hopefully they know something more at El Dewar that can add to what we learned at Kaher.”

“I’m betting that it won’t be so much a matter of them knowing but of them telling us,” he said.

The side windows were closed but still the sand seemed to seep in. She pulled a tissue from the packet on the dash and wiped the corners of her eyes.

His hands tightened on the wheel as the front tires began to dig into the sand. He turned to the right and she knew he was hoping to veer out of the rut before they got stuck.

The consistency of the sand was subject to change and dependent on so many things. In an odd way, like snow. It would take all his focus to drive and navigate the unstable conditions. The desert was a challenge to drive at any time and now, with worry, little sleep and what might be a brewing storm, it was even more so.

She was relieved as the vehicle again gained traction, but ahead of them was a new difficulty. A tall bank of sand dunes stretched out on either side, with no end in sight, and blocked much of the horizon.

“In my youth we used to drive the dunes for fun,” he said, looking at her with concern. “We were lucky.” Minutes later his mouth tightened as he looked ahead.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked and frowned at the dunes. “Can we go around?”

“Possibly,” he said. “But that could set us back hours.”

“Not an option.”

“I agree, but these dunes aren’t going to be a cakewalk,” he said. “They’re whaleback dunes.”

They both knew what that meant. Whaleback dunes were dunes whose front incline was hard from being buffeted by the wind. It was the back half that could pose a problem. Depending on the direction of the wind, the sand could be crumbly and difficult to navigate.

He glanced at her. “You ready to do this?”

“I’ve been in since the beginning,” she said simply.

And with a slight smile that was more a tightening of his full lips, he slowed the Jeep. “When we reach them, watch the horizon, if it seems quite sharp at the top, then we have problems on the other side,” he said.

And she knew he meant there was the possibility of soft sand, softer than they had traveled through, and the type that could easily cause a rollover. The hope was that the sand on the other side of the dune was hard. Based on the way the wind had been buffeting them, she was sure they had a good chance of getting the latter.

He squeezed her hand and she looked down, aware of how large his hands were and, despite the gentle touch, how strong.

She pulled her hand from beneath his when all she wanted to do was to fold into his arms. There was no time for such thoughts. She forced her mind to the moment, to the challenge ahead of them.

“Let’s do this,” she said as if there was some chance that he wouldn’t. “I’m fine,” she added at the look of concern he gave her.

“You’re more than fine,” he said, turning his attention to the bank of dunes.

They eased over the dunes with little trouble, reaching the other side and finding the sand hard, buffeted by desert winds.

“Easier than we thought,” he said.

She nodded and let go of the grab bar. It was easy driving now compared to where they had just come from. She still couldn’t believe that finding Tara might be as easy as an ancient atlas and the words spoken by a dying man.

“I can see it,” she said. “El Dewar.”

He gripped the wheel as they recognized the first sign of something other than the endless sea of sand. A bit of green. An oasis. The place his parents had visited with Tara and Faisal on the last trip any of them had taken as a family before tragedy had intervened and changed the course of all their lives.

His lips tightened and she bet he was thinking of all that had transpired and of the urgency that felt almost crushing.

“The summer vacation we think she was referencing in that video,” Kate said.

He gave a brief nod as the Jeep bounced through a sand-packed gulley that seemed to run diagonally for a few minutes before they climbed to the top and the terrain became level again.

They drove in silence now, as they could see the oasis. It was small, as was the village it supported, and because of its isolation, she imagined that it likely saw few strangers. The usual sandstone-colored, square buildings huddled close together as if trying to escape the inhospitable desert.

Within minutes they were there.

As they got out of the Jeep, Kate was almost blinded by the sun as it reached its peak in the midday sky. But, still, it was cooler than usual for the time of year. She folded her arms across her chest as a cool breeze buffeted her, the palm trees rustling ahead of them. The fronds, moving back and forth in the center of the village, seemed, in an odd way, to almost welcome them.

A man in a fawn-colored aselham, the long robe skimming the tops of his feet as his sandals whispered quietly on the path that was hard-packed sand, walked past, continuing to stare as he moved. Farther away a man was filling a metal trough with water as two camels waited, reins dangling on the ground. A woman with a basket full of vegetables and a toddler clinging to her robe made her way into the center of the village, glancing back at them once and then continuing on her way. A group of women watched them and an old man smoking a cigarette was avidly following their progress. Everyone they’d seen was dressed in the traditional Berber aselham.

“Emir Al-Nassar,” Emir said, holding out his hand as a man in fawn-colored robes approached.

“Aqil,” the man returned with a slight nod of his head.

Emir didn’t introduce Kate and, unlike the last village, she didn’t volunteer. They needed information and shaking up the local culture in regard to their views on women wasn’t going to do it.

Still, she knew Emir could feel her eyes on him. She was letting him take the lead and honoring the customs of the community.

“I heard about your sister only this morning,” Aqil said in careful English. “Our internet is spotty. But, as you know, your family is well known.” He shrugged as the wind tugged at his clothes. He ran a hand through his gray-speckled beard. “We were lucky to have heard when we did. The wind is picking up. I doubt if we’ll get a connection again today or even in the next few days. That’s how it works.”

“I know you usually have your ear to the ground out here,” Emir said.

Aqil’s attention went to Kate and he frowned.

“We can talk alone,” Emir said as he followed Aqil’s gaze. “Stay here,” he said almost gruffly to Kate.

The command rankled her but it was Berber land and their rules. But there was one other thing she knew. It wasn’t just the men who were privy to things in this isolated village; the women had a key role in society in a different way than they were used to in the West or even in the city. Knowing that, hopefully between them they would learn something.

Emir looked at her like he wanted to smile at her but didn’t. Instead he let the amused smile on her face and her silence sit unacknowledged between them. But Aqil’s attention had turned to a man who had just approached and Emir took the opportunity to address her.

“You’ll be all right?” he asked in an undertone.

“I’ll be all right,” she said, although for the first time she felt slightly overwhelmed. No matter how much she’d studied, no matter her experience in Morocco, on this small tract of land they were thrown back in time and place and to the reality that she was a blond-haired American woman in Western clothing. She didn’t fit in.

“Speak to the elders first,” he advised and motioned to an elderly woman squatting beside an open fire. “If they accept you, the others may, too.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Kate?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.” But despite her words she still felt unsure and out of her element.

She took a step away as the man who had first greeted Emir came up to him.

“Come,” Aqil said as he began to lead Emir. His pace fast despite his short stature. He glanced behind as he talked, as if to ensure that Emir was indeed following him.

* * *

EMIR FOLLOWED WITH one last glance and a nod to Kate as his host led him along a beaten sand path that served as a road.

A group of small boys tossed a ball back and forth and a group of women were carrying on what seemed to be a lighthearted conversation as two of them laughed. But as the men approached, they quieted and stared.

Aqil stopped in front of a one-story, square, sandstone-colored building no different than any of the others. Inside, as in the previous home they had visited, furnishings were sparse. What was different this time was that what was there was of high quality. There was an ebony, pearl-inlaid hutch and gold-stamped figurines on various shelves throughout the room, indicating this village was doing well.

Emir removed his shoes and walked barefoot over a rug so thick he seemed to sink as he walked across it. This one was ruby red and in the middle sat an intricately carved ironwood table. A trio of men sat around the table, each with a long, thin, metal smoking stick. The smell of tobacco wove through the air and was strangely pleasant, unlike the acrid scent of cigarettes at home. Here it was a different smell, warmer, in a pleasant, rather earthy kind of way that blended with the smell of cinnamon and jasmine sifting through the air from a number of incense pots set in various corners.

He turned his attention to the man in the traditional long robe in front of them who had just joined Aqil. Unlike his first host, this man clearly wasn’t interested in introductions.

“I wish we had met under better circumstances,” the man said, his dark brows furrowed.

“The men you seek.” He looked at Emir with a scowl that deepened, as if challenging him to contradict him. “Their group was seen not forty-eight hours ago heading west.” He took a drag from his pipe, blew out a thin stream of smoke and continued. “They didn’t stop for water nor did they enter our village.”

Emir knew that piece of information was critical. Water was vital. No one would not stop for water in the desert when it was available, no matter if they carried a supply or not. Two scenarios played in his mind—they were heading to a place they knew had water that was relatively close, and had enough water to get there—an oasis with enough water to keep their small group going or...someone here had met them with a supply.

“No one here helped them, or had any contact,” the man said, as if he’d read Emir’s mind. “And there’s nothing nearby.”

“Was there...?”

“There’s nothing more,” the man said and turned away from Emir. He whispered a few words to Aqil, making it clear from his actions and poise that he was a leader within the village.

Emir straightened. He knew he’d been dismissed, that there was nothing further to be learned in this room.