Come Back To Me

by Melissa Foster

  The more Beau learned about Safaa, the more he cared for the children and Samira. When Suha spoke of Zeid, her words carried a certain sting, almost a hint of disgust, though not quite. Beau had been watching the angry boy, who was on the cusp of pre-pubescence. He saw in him a young boy caught between two worlds; one in which he had been schooled and of which he understood the confines, and one that seemed only a thought, a world that he could neither visualize nor understand. Beau believed confusion lay at the heart of Zeid’s anger. He felt sure that Zeid was dealing with his troubled, fear-ridden life in the best way he knew, even if it was painful for the rest of them. He’d seen grown men deal with less stressful events in a more aggressive way. Perhaps he was jaded, seeing Zeid’s attitude as acceptable, given his circumstances. Beau saw beyond Zeid’s angry front. Hope? Fear? He could not say. He made a pact with himself to show Zeid that all Americans were not hateful, and that men did not have to belittle women to be confident and strong. He tried to imagine what Zeid was feeling, but could not fathom the thought of losing a parent and leaving his home, all in one fell swoop. His empathy for Zeid fueled his desire to help him, and sparked a deeper empathy for Samira, for what she’d been forced to endure.

  ***

  “Ah, now that feels better,” he said, as the last of the cast was removed.

  “No alaam?” Suha said, then corrected herself, “No pain?”

  “No alaam,” Beau responded, and smiled at her effort. Suha’s English was becoming more fluid. She was patient with Beau’s efforts to speak Arabic, which he found to be a very difficult language to grasp, or perhaps he had difficulty because his mind was already overwhelmed with the task of healing.

  Suha moved Beau’s arm in a careful fashion. He grimaced, but felt no greater ache than the sadness he felt from being away from Tess. Suha and Beau would spend the next few weeks rehabbing his injured arm and leg, reconditioning the muscles, and rebuilding his overall strength. At first they exercised his limbs with small, careful movements, short weight-bearing exercises which included things like bicep curls with a can filled with sand, and tying the same can around his ankle with a sheet, then lifting it slowly off the floor. As he grew stronger, Beau took short daily walks, increasing his distance over time, and pushing through the pain. He kept the pocket watch and photo of Tess in his pants pocket, which Samira had mended as best she was able. The familiar lump against his thigh drove him to push himself harder.

  ***

  Beau set off on his rehabilitative walk with Edham at his side. Those walks were cathartic for Beau. He spoke of his desire to get back to Tess and his worry of the emotional pain she’d likely been through. He was glad that Edham could not understand him or respond to his rhetorical questions. It helped to cleanse his thoughts, to release stress. He wondered what Tess had been told and longed to know if any others had survived the crash. When he’d asked Suha about the accident, she was hesitant to give details, telling him only that he must have been thrown from the helicopter long before it crashed because the explosion was miles away. He couldn’t think of the accident, or Tess, for too long—the burden of the sadness would grow too heavy, weighing down his thoughts and hindering his recuperation.

  Edham looked up at him now, as they walked away from their humble dwelling across the naked desert. The dunes masked what lay a mile or so beyond—dark sand eking out from a glorious, flowing river. He smiled, his smooth skin glistening with sweat. “You leave?” he asked in English.

  Beau stopped in his tracks, looked down at the boy, and cocked his head to the side in question. He was sure he had heard him incorrectly.

  Edham looked embarrassed, fearing he’d said the wrong words. “You leave?” he asked tentatively.

  Beau put his hand on the boy’s slim shoulder. He’d been listening and learning all along, he realized, to more than what Beau had been teaching him. He’d been listening to Beau and Suha’s conversations about how he might get home, and when their next move, as a group, would begin. Beau was happily surprised, and instantly worried. How much of what he and Suha had discussed had he understood? He wracked his mind, running through the words he had tried to teach Edham and the others, and could not recall teaching them the word “leave”.

  “Leave?” he repeated. His goal had been to return to Tess all along, and suddenly that word, leave, brought conflicting emotions. How would he leave? Where would he go? There was a war going on out there, and he had no idea where or how badly it had turned in his absence. He shrugged in Edham’s direction, noncommittally, and turned to follow the path they’d worn in the sand.

  Edham shrugged, too, wondering if perhaps he’d used the wrong words after all. He reached up and took hold of Beau’s hand.

  Maryland

  Louie quickened his pace, kicking up billows of dust from the dirt path adjacent to Rock Creek. He caught up with Tess. They were heading south—a quick trip to the National Zoo. Tess breathed deeply, taking in the smell of the fallen leaves. She could do this, a bike ride with a friend. This wasn’t so bad. Wearing her bicycle helmet made her head look out of proportion to her newly-slim shoulders and sleek arms. She’d shed weight like a molting bird, and worried that soon she wouldn’t be able to hide her burgeoning bump. Louie raised his arms off of the handlebars and held them out to his sides, cackling like a teenager.

  Tess laughed. “You’re a fool!”

  They’d gone riding together a handful of times, and life had slowly rejuvenated within Tess. They’d taken their first ride along that very path a few weeks earlier, an awkward, silent ride that began with a “hello” and ended with “see ya,” without as many words in between. By their third ride together, they’d found their groove. Tess now had a reason to look forward to Sundays, and, without realizing it, she’d stopped sitting in front of her computer on Sunday evenings waiting for Beau to Skype.

  Louie lowered his arms just in time to swerve around a branch that had fallen across the path. Tess roared with laughter as his balance faltered and his wheels wobbled to the right. Louie floundered for balance.

  “It was all in the plan, my friend,” he joked.

  The bike path intersected another and Tess turned quickly, leaving Louie to stop and turn around in order to follow her. Tess wasn’t thinking of Louie at that moment. She peddled faster as the dirt path turned to pavement, pushing herself to gain speed up the small incline that led to the cemetery. Her heart thumped against her chest, not from the effort she exerted, but from the thoughts that reeled through her mind like a tornado. She rode around the outer path, staring into the sea of headstones, oblivious to the flush that covered her cheeks. A green canopy came into view, interrupting the cemetery like a sore thumb. She slowed her bike, coming to a stop behind a large oak tree.

  Tess leaned her bike against the tree and then pushed herself against the rough bark, peering like a child around the girth of its trunk. Mourners stood in a small group, huddled close together, leaning on one another for support. Tess recognized Carol and Robert, standing before the newly-planted headstone. The lack of a casket glared like a missing tooth. At six feet three inches tall, Kevin was usually difficult to miss, though on this day his stooped shoulders made him more difficult to distinguish.

  Tess heard the rattling of Louie’s bike being positioned next to hers, Louie’s footsteps behind her. Her body tensed. She remained focused on the group in front of her. She shifted her stance to the right to get a better look at the woman who stood next to Kevin. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck, her clothing looser than normal, but there was something in the woman’s stance that was undeniable. Alice? Tess’s hand covered her mouth. How could she?

  “Tess?” Louie whispered, putting his hand across her lower back.

  Tess shrugged him off, turned away, tears stinging her eyes.

  “Do you want to go?” he asked kindly.

  Tess shook her head, her shoulders curled inward.

  Louie watched her from behind, feel
ing inadequate. Quiet sounds of hidden sobs filled the air around them. Louie waited patiently.

  “Tess?” he moved toward her.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “It’s—”

  “Beau?” he said thoughtfully.

  She nodded and turned toward him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be,” he said. He knew why she hadn’t attended the memorial, at least he thought he did. Tess hadn’t told him much, but she’d alluded to the fact that she didn’t think Beau was really dead. Louie knew all too well that there wasn’t much anyone could do to help her accept the truth. He stood before her, awkward in his unsure stance, his curls poking out randomly from the properly-fit bike helmet, his shirt wet with sweat, and his heart heavy.

  Tess watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. She focused on the movement of his clinging t-shirt. It was easier than focusing on the ceremony that had progressed to hugs and milling attendees one hundred feet before her. Without moving her eyes from the sweat stain between his pectoral muscles, she said, trancelike, “We’d better go.” She made no move to leave.

  Louie recognized the stillness in her. He swallowed his own memories, took her gently by the elbow, and led her to her bike. She grabbed the handlebars with both hands and pushed the bike back down the path toward Rock Creek Park.

  “Are you okay?” Louie followed Tess down the path. When she didn’t answer, he said, “Why don’t we turn back and head towards home?”

  Tess shook her head. When they reached the bottom of the hill, she climbed onto her bike, straightened her t-shirt, and said, “Let’s keep going.”

  ***

  The ride to the zoo was swift and uneventful. The fresh air whipped against Tess’s skin. She breathed it in, shedding her sadness with each exhalation, pulling herself together, reminding herself that Beau wasn’t really gone. She tucked her thoughts of Beau away in some imaginary treasure chest within her mind, knowing she could retrieve them with a thought. She was not going to torture Louie, who at this point felt like her only friend, with her angst of her in-laws, Kevin, and Alice. Alice! The thought of her at the memorial made Tess’s stomach burn. She took several deep breaths and thanked God that Louie was now riding ahead of her, unable to see her face.

  ***

  They hopped off their bikes and chained them to an empty bike rack at the end of the parking lot. The National Zoo had been one of Tess’s favorite places when she was a child. She’d been there only a handful of times in her life, each one better than the last. As she and Louie walked up the path toward the giraffes and elephants, the scent of manure recalled a childhood memory. She and her mother had been waiting long hours for the elephant’s feeding time. Her mother had pleaded with her to see other animals until the scheduled event, but she’d have no part of leaving. She had been a pixie of a girl, with paper-thin arms and legs, pale skin, and a mind as stubborn as a full-grown bull. She longed to hear her mother’s voice just one more time.

  “What are you thinking about?” Louie asked. “You were smiling, just then.”

  Tess shook her head.

  “If this is too difficult, we can go,” he offered.

  “I’m fine.” Tess looked up at the sky, as if watching a scene unfold in the clouds. She waved her hand through the air. “They have a need for closure,” she explained. “It’s okay. It’s what they need. I was just surprised to see Alice, that’s all.”

  Louie understood the feelings of betrayal. He also understood Alice’s need to say goodbye.

  ***

  The crisp afternoon turned into a brisk evening. Louie and Tess stood in her front yard, the leaves of the weeping willow whispering in the breeze.

  “How about that gorilla?” Louie laughed.

  Tess rolled her eyes. “He was nasty.”

  “No, just horny.”

  “Whatever.” She swatted his arm. “You men are all alike,” she laughed.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me about getting my business?” Louie asked in a serious tone.

  “No,” Tess said.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  Tess shrugged. She’d picked up a number of new clients in the past few weeks and knew that when Louie was ready, he’d work with her. Until then, she needed his friendship more than his money.

  “Do you want to talk about today?” He kicked the ground, contemplating the afternoon. His own painful memories rushed forward.

  “Not really,” she said with an edge.

  Relieved, he said, “Okay. I just thought—”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “Everyone thinks I need to talk about it, talk about Beau. But you know what? I don’t. I’m okay with him being away. I know he’ll come back. I know he’s not gone.” She stood and paced.

  “Tess, it’s okay to grieve. You don’t have to be strong.”

  “I’m not being strong,” she said heatedly. “He’s not gone!” her words were accusatory. “Why does everyone feel the need to make me talk about him?” Her body began to tremble.

  Louie turned her shoulders gently toward him. “No one can make you do anything. I just thought you might want someone to listen.” He brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead.

  She shrugged him off.

  “You don’t have to get mad,” he said. “I’m trying to be a friend, that’s all.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t need that kind of friend,” she dug in her purse for her keys.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.” He tipped her quivering chin upward. “I’m sorry.”

  Tess trembled like a frightened bird. She’d been strong for so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to be taken care of. Loneliness seeped from her pores. Louie put his arms around her, his breath on her cheeks. Heat spread up her chest. His eyes washed over her, comforting, wanting. She pressed her body against his, her mind cautioning her every move. He lowered his lips to hers. Salty tears slipped between them, the smell of sweat, the feel of his tense muscles, drew her in. Guilt engulfed her, pulling her back from him, fighting her desire. The minty taste of him lingered on her tongue. Tess unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Without uttering a word, she closed it behind her.

  “Vogue” rang out from across the threshold, a barrier between them.

  Chapter Nine

  The man came in the night, as silent as the moon swept across the evening sky. He gave Suha directions for their departure and assured her that he’d be traveling with them. They were to leave the next evening.

  He’d charted a course outside the red zone that would take them to the next underground safe zone, where, he assured Suha, they’d be taken care of along with other families that were being housed there. Soldiers who were party to the underground process would transport them to a location where they’d receive new identities and visas and be taken out of the country. The man, who called himself Abdul Hadi, or Servant of the Guide, was swathed in fabric, his long, unkempt beard, more gray than black, poked out from the scarf he’d wrapped around his head. His face was weathered, his hands thick and dry.

  Abdul Hadi’s loose brown pants and soiled button-down shirt looked as though he’d been sleeping in them for weeks. His heavy boots must have been hell to wear, trekking through the desert sand. Beau watched the man like a hawk, trying to translate his conversation with Suha, but falling too far behind to follow.

  The man’s eyes shifted to Beau several times as he spoke. Beau could tell from Suha’s expression that the man was not happy with his presence. Abdul Hadi hunched as he spoke, the fabric of his wrap moving with each forceful expression. Beau tensed, fearing the worst. This went on until the sun began to rise, and eventually, Suha rose too, standing before Beau with a bowed head.

  “Jameel,” she said, “Abdul Hadi, he worries. You put us in danger.”

  Beau clenched his teeth. She was right. With Beau, they were harboring an American. Without him, they were merely traveling Iraqis, not easily explain
ed, but easier than explaining their allegiance to him. He looked down, unsure of what to do or say.

  Suha turned back to Abdul Hadi, speaking rapidly in her native tongue. She stood with her back to Beau, a protective shield between him and the stranger.

  Abdul Hadi ran his eyes up and down Beau’s body.

  Beau pulled his shoulders back, raised his chin, and looked the man in the eye.

  The man spoke in slow, clipped English, “You come with us. You become one of us.”

  Beau nodded, unsure of what he meant.

  Suha placed her hand on his arm with a nod. The hint of a smile crossed her lips.

  ***

  Suha packed supplies while Samira and the children slept, unaware of their pending upheaval. Beau did as the man directed, tying bundles of blankets and bed linens around utensils. They were to leave nothing behind. The man shed his outer wrap and handed it roughly to Beau.

  “You wear this,” Suha explained.

  Suha nodded toward the man’s bag, indicating the change of clothes Beau would be wearing, a concession that the man had not planned.

  ***

  The children awoke, frightened, at first, of the strange man who had come in the night. Zeid watched the Iraqi man with interest, as if deciding if he were friend or foe. He whispered sharp comments in Abdul Hadi’s direction. Samira snapped at him, lowering her eyes and apologizing to Abdul Hadi, who disregarded her concern.