Yesterday's Darkness

by Carl Henegan

  He slapped his damp hand against the back of the driver’s headrest. Sweat clouded eyes darted in every direction. Aside from a dark clothed man watching from a nearby intersection, virtually no one was around. At least not any one I can actually see, he thought. He urged his driver to pull away. “Go Amin! Please go...go now!”

  In the mist of the chaos Mostafa took a precious moment to think about what he just saw. A black overcoat in this temperature? He took another look at the man fully dressed in dark clothing standing in the same spot looking on with a calm but curious interest.

  A small white square now appeared on the front of the man’s collar. Hadn’t noticed that before. The dark clothing was actually a robe, a priest robe. Mostafa stopped breathing in mid inhalation. My God…it’s him. The black robe swayed in the breeze atop of his tall slender frame.

  Before Mostafa could fully process the sight of the priest his attention drew away. Oddly enough the distraction evolved around what was not happening with the car. Why aren’t we moving?

  His driver placed the car into gear but when their eyes meet in the mirror Amin’s foot remained on the break. Although Mostafa tried to hide it, the image that Amin saw was enough to raise serious concern. The friendship portion of their relationship took precedence over the business side. His driver was about to place the camaraderie hat on and not remove it; Mostafa saw it in his eyes.

  Amin swiveled his round body around in the front seat narrowing his eyes with genuine disquiet at Mostafa. He understood the concern but there just wasn’t enough time to explain…not now and not later, if ever. This act of silence wasn’t a choice it was a necessity. He had to keep that part of his life the way he always kept it, far away from everyone including Amin.

  More then anything he feared this moment. The highly off limits part of his life had finally bled into the known areas. The act of keeping anything remotely related to his occupation away from his family had run its course.

  The moment surprised him but he should have been ready for it. Denial pushed his coherent thought process aside and that was his entire fault. Admittedly he wasn’t prepared for the inevitable.

  Before any of this, Mostafa made a personal vow. His soul stood as the only witness to very the private conversation. As far as his family was concerned, none of them would ever know.

  The vow of self-secrecy not only excluded family but also the people he considered as family. The very few that fell in this category dwelled on a very short list with Amin at the very top. With the enlightenment of the current circumstances, he admonished the fact that he intentionally ignored the all too clear signs. Day after day it became more difficult to maintain his secret.

  Mostafa managed to go on for a long time keeping his private life hidden but Amin was about to end it. His eyes said as much as the silence. He made a stand and Mostafa knew better then anyone that his friend’s resilience was legendary.

  Amin stuck to issues, opinions, and even the planet itself like glue. He had more close calls then any mortal alive, which became an inside joke. Mostafa often said that at the end of the world the only things left would be Betty White, the ocean, and Amin.

  Today Amin drew the virtual line in the sand. He refused to allow Mostafa’s secrecy to continue as he lifted a judicious eyebrow at Mostafa.

  “Just drive Amin! I know you have questions but for now, just drive!”

  Little hope existed that Amin would actually listen but he had to try. Unlike past incidents, this one commanded immediate attention and Amin could not just look the other way. This time his unyielding glare remained solid.

  He wanted more then anything to bypass this moment but that option had been dissolved forever. Amin didn’t ask the question hovering above them. He didn’t ask it simply because he didn’t have to ask it. Amin placed his very large foot down but not out of casual curiosity; this stemmed from authentic and admittedly justified apprehension.

  Amin’s part in the family consisted of multiple roles. He considered himself as Mostafa’s close friend but it did not end there. Amin’s roles also included the Godfather to his son, Mostafa’s personal driver, and the protector for the entire family. Amin also – unknown to him till that instant – represented the position of the family’s unofficial bodyguard; a position that he had no idea was even needed.

  No matter how much Mostafa attempted to rationalize the need for concealment, he could not lie to himself. He handled the situation all wrong. Of all people in Mostafa’s life, Amin had the right to know not just part of the information, but everything. In fact the entire family should have known including any relatives of his so they could also be on guard.

  Amin’s only blood relative lived far away. He seldom spoke of his sister but when he did anyone could here the pride in his voice whenever he mentioned her. She is a journalist in northern Africa who is an avid fighter against injustice, he would say with swelling pride.

  Aside from his sister, Amin made it no secret that he considered the Roshans as his true family. All family functions included Amin’s jolly presence. To Mostafa’s son he was simply Uncle Amin, but no matter the title, the entire family felt as close to him as he felt to them.

  The bond began from the day they first met mere weeks after Mostafa graduated from Sharif University. Initially Amin’s work consisted of odd jobs around the home of the Roshan’s. His duties quickly expanded till the relationship transformed into what it became today. In the months that followed he became without a doubt, family. Not friend or employee but true unconditional family.

  “They saw me. I think they saw me,” Mostafa grabbed his head with both hands, “No, I know that they saw me!”

  He spun around looking out the back window for a fifth time. He then paused recalling the other even much more disturbing sight then scanned to the exact spot where the priest stood. This time no one was there. He’s gone. “Go Amin! Just go...that’s all I can say now!”

  “Ok Ok! I’ll go but after this we need to talk. I’m not here just for the fine times Mostafa, let me help you.” Amin twisted his body forward then griped his meaty hands on the steering wheel.

  A loud thump followed Amin’s words as his heavy foot slammed the gas peddle to the floorboard. The back tires rotated over the solid surface for only a split second before gripping the cold concrete and launching the car forward. The scent of burning rubber filled the car’s interior as it rocketed away from the curb. The Peugeot shot down Ferdosi Avenue like a gray flash of fleeting steel.

  Amin maneuvered the car through the light Northern Tehran traffic till he pulled ahead of the other vehicles that occupied the road. Within minutes they were far away from their initial starting point at the office. Even at the safe distance Mostafa felt compelled to look out the back window. If anyone lurked out there now he couldn’t see them but that was hardly enough to settle his anxiety.

  Amin cut his eyes into the rearview mirror. “Relax, I can assure you that no one was able to follow us.”

  Just as he spoke a car emerged from a side street nearly colliding into them. Amin swerved the Peugeot to the left bouncing on the far curb. He jerked the steering wheel hard to the right bringing the car back on the level surface. Once in control, he grunted frustrated words at the other passing car.

  Mostafa eyed the vehicle as it moved by them. He peered inside at the driver but the person behind the wheel remained facing forward with a look of discomfort. The car then sped away.

  “I hope you’re right Amin,” Mostafa said with an unsure tone.

  At the next intersection Amin took a quick left. He turned the car so fast that the Peugeot briefly tilted on two wheels. Like a professional driver, Amin repeated the maneuver for several more turns till they arrived far away from the main streets.

  The car’s speed decreased to a slow casual roll. Amin waited till his eyes connected with Mostafa’s again in the rear view mirror. “Mostafa, what is this about?”

  When he opened his mouth he
planned on telling Amin the truth but out of condition, the truth just wouldn’t come out. “It’s nothing. Just paranoid but it’s nothing.”

  Amin lifted one furry eyebrow as he glared at his friend. “Nothing?” Amin tightened a thick hand on the back of his neck to massage it.

  “I should have just moved my family to America,” he said under his breath.

  “America?”

  “Yes, I want my son to have more options. Here even with my degree, there are very few,” he said then gripped Amin’s meaty shoulder. “Amin, if anything happens to me, will you look after my wife and son?”

  “You ask me this? You already know this. I would watch over them even after my own death. What…is…going…on?! Tell me,” Amin said as he brought the car to an even slower pace.

  Mostafa leaned forward placing a hand on Amin’s thick shoulder. “Amin, I think someone leaked information on me. They know what I do now.”

  Amin’s eyes altered from concern to alarm. His normally tanned even keel expression transformed into gaunt worry. “La hawla wala quwata illa billah,” he said.

  Mostafa nodded in agreement. “I know. I’m dissatisfied also but what can I do?”

  “And what exactly was leaked?”

  “My job Amin, working with things everyday that could cause much sorrow in the wrong hands. I accepted a position that I’m too ashamed to even tell my own family.”

  Amin shook his head. “No,” he said. He wagged a bulky finger in the air. “Do not be ashamed of what you do. You are a scientist and that is something to be proud of Mostafa.”

  “Nuclear scientist,” Mostafa said.

  “What’s the difference? You’re just doing a job. Is that why we are driving like fools? You think that someone will harm you for that?”

  “Not think…know. Two of my co-workers have already been killed and I don’t think it was a coincidence. That’s why I insisted that I remain anonymous when I accepted the position.”

  “And why do you think you are not anonymous now?”

  “A reporter contacted me, some online journalist or something. She told me that she read my name in a Hungarian and American newspaper. After she told me that, I pulled up the article on line. She was right. It gave inside information on me, even listed my full name as head of the program. Since then I’ve been noticing people not with the company looking for someone, I know it was for me. Just before I left today I know that I saw two men lurking outside of the office building.”

  Amin groaned heavily. “Uhh, I understand now. You should have told me this before. It’s ok Mostafa I have my own circle of connections. As long as I’m around no one will harm you or your family. La ilaha illa Allah.”

  “Yes…yes I know. But although there is no good but Allah, there is a lot of bad out there.”

  A black motorcycle with two passengers pulled out from between two buildings. Just as the car did before, the bike also barely missed a direct collision into them. Amin rolled his driver’s side window half way down. “Idiot! Watch where you are going!!” He threw his hand out with a clinched fist grumbling angrily beneath his breath. The black motorcycle slowed down as it veered to the far right allowing their car to pull up next to him. Amin lowered the window the rest of the way down.

  “Let it go Amin!” Mostafa urged.

  Amin cut his glance into the mirror. “You’re right Mostafa, and I can not be upset for you keeping the information about your work away from me. I have a small confession of my own.”

  “The mysterious monthly trips?”

  Amin’s face enveloped with surprise. “You know of this?”

  “I never pried into your affairs Amin, but I was aware that you would vanish from time to time.”

  “Ok Mostafa I will tell only you. Aside from working with you, I also…”

  Amin’s words were cut off when he became distracted by another two passenger black motorcycle. It pulled up on the opposite side of the Peugeot.

  Clank!! Clank!!

  The metal to metal clinging sounded off on both sides of the car.

  “What was that?” Amin said looking back to make sure Mostafa was ok.

  “It was them,” Mostafa said pointing at the motorcycles. “The two people on back of those bikes just attached something to the car!”

  “What is this? What’s going on here?” Amin protested out of the driver’s window as the motorcycles speeds away.

  Mostafa sat up straight. After a serene realization he leaned back into the back seat. The mystery ended; he now knew what just happened to them recognizing the uncommon but very effective tactic. Mostafa watched as the high whining engines of the two motorcycles speed away then cut between the buildings ahead before vanishing out of view.

  This time when their eyes met in the mirror Mostafa saw the reflection of his own internal fear in Amin’s eyes. Something was very wrong. The muffled hum of Amin’s voice hung in the air like a balloon that was just about to rupture.

  “A-ozu billahi mena shaitaan Arrajeem,” Mostafa whispered.

  The Islamic prayer came into his head although it had been years since it was taught to him. He remembered the prayer word for word just as his mother had embedded into his psyche from as far back as he could remember. Although his mother had passed away years ago he could now hear her reciting the phrase with her angelic voice that was as alive and vibrant now as it was when she had actually spoke to him so many years before.

  “Boooom!!!!!”

  His mother’s voice vanished along with his ability to hear the sounds around him. Amin’s voice, the car engine, and the distant whining of the motorcycle engines vanished and became replaced by a steady buzz.

  A-ozu billahi mena shaitaan Arrajeem, he said again. But he could only hear the words internally where even there they still blended into the fixed buzz.

  His mother’s voice somehow elevated over the maddening noise. Her words murmured in his head and this time he not only hears her but also sees her.

  She stood there directly in front of him so close that he reached out to her. Along with her was the vision of him as a young boy. She leaned over him as she taught him the sacrosanct prayer. Whenever you feel unsafe Mostafa recite these words for your mother ok? Use them to seek refuge in the arms of Allah.

  Intense heat consumed his body as flames filled the interior of the vehicle. Weightlessness followed as the entire car lifted into the air. If it were not for the burning pain across this skin he would feel like an angel in flight.

  His mind cleared, free of worry, free of all worldly matters.

  “A-ozu billahi mena….” he started uttering the phrase one more time but only got half way through. The full force of the explosion propelled the car higher into the air. The car detonated as the second thunderous explosion hit. The scent of ignited fuel and burning flesh consumed his nostrils.

  The heap of mangled metal crashed back to earth. Along with the inflamed car, gray metal pieces tainted in crimson blood cascaded across the multi colored cobblestone street.

  Chapter 1

  Dallas, Texas

  February 3, 6:14 p.m.

  “Big Mike!!!” One of his waitress’ screamed from outside of his back office. “Mike! I think we’re out of one of the beers!”

  Even before she shouted from the hallway the stress level had materialized into the form of a severe headache. The accounting numbers for the monthly report blurred and jumbled together. Hours creped by with little variation in Mike’s comatose gaze at the figures. This would have continued for hours longer if it had not been for his waitress calling out to him.

  He replied with the question that should have already been addressed. “Which one? What beer are we out of?” he shouted back.

  He never lifted his head as he waited for an answer. When he didn’t get a reply, the issue skimmed across his immediate concerns. In the recent weeks his mind not only drifted but also preformed an all out lost surf on rough waters. He made a half hearted effort but it was
just too difficult to elevate his head from the sea of red accounting numbers etched across the stack of papers on his desk.

  The numbers just like the month before and the month before that, refused to add up. More accurately they did add up but refused to add up the way he needed them, in the black instead of the red. Along with the rest of the country, his Dallas Texas bar suffered from the economy’s downturn. For the first time since he took sole ownership, the bar tittered on the edge of going out of business.

  Finally a response came from the hallway. “Nooot sure!”

  “You think you can find out for me?!” He stopped looking at the numbers and waited. “Ok?! You still there?!”

  He puffed his cheeks then released a short burst of frustrated air. A quick glance at his watch made him repeat the process. It’s just never enough time in twenty - four hours. At 6:53 p.m. time arrived far too quickly to leave the office and put on another of his many hats. For the rest of the night he will roam the floor of the bar serving as one of the main bouncers.

  He didn’t need to check his watch to know what time it was; he could hear the crowd gearing up as they had always done at that hour in the late evening. Rumblings from the ever expanding bar visitors filtered through the walls. The night shift merged into the initial stages of mayhem.

  He held a small stack of the papers mindlessly shifting through them. After a steady four hours working, he was far from finished. Another pile of tax forms and vendor contracts that he had not touched stacked like a small tower on his desk. The work may grow but it never ended.

  As much as he would love to blame his unfinished duties on the lack of time, it had a lot to do with him. He stared at the worksheets far more then coming up with actual solutions, if there were any solutions. At this point he had his doubts.

  The numbers would have to wait. Resolved issues or not, patrons ordered the drinks and the bartenders pored them every night seven days a week. Thirsty visitors could care less that he hadn’t made a dent in his paperwork nor should they.

  The crowd grew fast as this point in the late evening. The chatter outside of his office increased so loud that it would have been impossible to work even if he had the time. Mike slammed the papers on top of the rest. As usual, it’s going to be even more for me to not finish tomorrow.