by D. E. Daum
* * * *
Watching Saleem deplane and descend the stairs after weeks of pain and worry, Mariam reminisced fondly. Everyone knew Saleem had brought her home from America after graduating from college. All they knew was that she was a Muslim from Malaysia, who also had been studying in America. Funny how everybody wants to learn from America, but many go home and verbally brutalize the country. She received a scholarship at the University of California in Berkeley and the use of a new convertible, after she won the coveted Miss Pacific Rim contest for 1997. She’d met Saleem while he was in Berkeley for a wrestling meet. She was a couple of years older than Saleem, but he didn’t care, he was in heat. He was a foot taller than her and double her weight, their whirlwind romance was the toast of the town.
Oh, how I love America! Oh, how I miss America, and hate Saudi Arabia! In America, I was something. I was someone. Everyone is someone. Here, half the population are ghosts who cannot go anywhere unless covered head to toe and only in the company of their husbands, a relative, a good friend or with written permission. I know many women who don’t bother to leave their homes, victims of religious persecution. America has many problems, but it seems the problems were born out of freedom. In America, as long as you didn’t break the law, you could be as amoral or as pious as you wished. Saleem is a good man, as good as any Saudi, but he brought me back to this hell, and I’m going to give him an ultimatum.
* * * *
As Kelly approached his wife, he sensed something was bothering her. It just came to him, similar to the feeling he’d gotten from Jane DeJong, when she talked about being cozy. He was going to have to deal carefully with her. He knew the basics about Mariam, thanks to Jane. Mariam was not really Malaysian, but the product of a mixed marriage, like him. Her mother was Thai, beautiful, he heard, and her father Australian. Her father converted to Islam at her mother’s insistence, so they raised Mariam in Islam, but she was very cosmopolitan. No, Mariam was no subservient wife. She had a degree in English Literature, was fluent in English, Chinese, Thai and Arabic and knew how women lived in the rest of the world. However, the intimacies of their marriage were a blank area. Starbird suggested that he continue to play the amnesia card. Since Saleem’s memories were only available to him with prompting, he was going to question Mariam. Then the memory would follow her answer.
Mariam came up to Kelly, embraced and gave him a perfunctory kiss. “I’m glad you’re back, my husband. Why did the Americans detain you?” she asked in English.
Kelly wondered why she spoke in English, and then he noticed that Ahmed was behind her. Ahmed did not speak English. He apparently drove Mariam in their car, since women cannot drive in Saudi Arabia, even though Mariam had driven all over California. Picking up the cue, he said, “You know how it is. Ever since the Americans were attacked on their soil by that madman, they see terrorists behind every rock.”
In the meantime, Ahmed came up looking genuinely pleased to see him, and said, “It is with great honor that I stand in the revered one’s presence. We must meet with Suhar as soon as you are able. We have great news for you. Suhar awaits your presence.”
Here we go. Now, I’ll see how good Rayya’s tutoring and Saleem’s recalled memories are. “Yes, dear brother, it is certainly wonderful to see you and Mariam again. Fortuitous too, since I rose from the dead.”
“Yes, yes, and that is exactly what Suhar wishes to speak to you about,” said Ahmed.
Kelly didn’t know the way home so, he said, “Ahmed, you drive.”
Ahmed nodded and continued, “He believes you sat at the right hand of Allah, and he feels that Allah said your work is just starting here and has sent you back to continue his jihad against the infidels.” Stopping at a traffic light, Ahmed took my hand, bent over, and kissed it. “Dear brother, it is I, too, who have been elevated for I am the brother of a Prophet of Allah. Suhar was right. He said the infidels wouldn’t hurt you. He said they couldn’t hurt you. It is not in their power, my brother.”
Kelly looked over at Mariam, who rolled her eyes. Mariam didn’t have much use for Ahmed. She thought he was an evil fool and easily led. Kelly remembered that she and Saleem had fought about his association with Ahmed, who’d claimed he was family and harmless.
Mariam said, “We must talk, my husband. Tell Ahmed that you will be in touch shortly.”
Chapter 9
When Kelly followed Mariam into their apartment, he felt a vague familiarity. Mariam headed into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. She emerged wearing a Western-style skirt and blouse. He’d known she was petite, but it was tough to gauge the actual size of someone wearing a sheet. Mariam seemed even smaller than he’d imagined. She had a wild, fiery look in her eyes as she walked up to Kelly.
She slapped him. The slap stung, but it shocked more than hurt. It also knocked off the sunglasses, he’d kept on since leaving the Embassy, so he closed his eyes, bent down, and retrieved them.
“You are as big a fool as your brother. Why did you get involved with him, and why did you betray your friend and employer?” Mariam stood defiantly legs apart, hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.
Surprised by her ferocity and her questions, Kelly didn’t have much of an answer.
“What does it matter? He was only an infidel,” he finally answered, rubbing his cheek. “And it was Allah’s will. You heard Ahmed, I am The Chosen One. I am Allah’s vengeful warrior. Besides, I don’t remember the incident. In fact, I don’t remember many things. I died, remember? In the hospital, I was told that I believed I was Rogers.”
Mariam’s beautiful eyes bored into him. Through clenched teeth, she said, “I know you and I know what you believe. Did you forget that many so-called infidels are our friends? You yourself have said that the ‘infidels’ only fault is they have not had the opportunity to embrace the true faith. And you know they think the same about us. Whose beliefs are true? Who knows? Maybe none.
“When you were hospitalized, it was touch and go, and I didn’t know if I wanted you to live or die. Had you died, I’d have been crushed, but I would’ve been free. If you’d died, I would have left the country in days. I would have been free to be myself again, but only somewhere else, Malaysia, Australia, even America. Nevertheless, you lived and I’m still trapped. I will not continue to be caged as a bird. I must have freedom.”
This was not what he expected. He gazed sympathetically at her. “But what about our love?”
“I do not know if my love for you exists anymore, Saleem. You may have extinguished the flame when you killed your benefactor.”
Kelly wanted to scream that he was not dead. “What would you have me do, dearest?”
Mariam’s expression softened as she looked him in the eye. “I want to leave Saudi Arabia, with or without you.”
He needed to run this by Starbird. “Mariam, I just returned from an ordeal with the Americans. Two months ago I was near death in the hospital. I understand your feelings, but I could use some rest. I promise I’ll give your request serious consideration.”
Mariam seemed temporarily mollified. “I’ll be waiting for your answer. When did you take to wearing sunglasses indoors?”
“My eyes still suffer from the effects from the flash of the explosion.”
Things were strained between them, so they busied themselves. Mariam sat down to read, while he went into the bedroom and unpacked.
Eventually, he spoke, “Mariam, there are things that I can’t remember.”
She looked up from her magazine Oh, like what.”
“Among other things, the personal things about you and me. The explosion jumbled up my memory, and it’s coming back slowly in bits and pieces, but I need to ask you questions, intimate questions. Will you help me?”
She set the magazine down. “What is it that you can’t remember?”
“I don’t remember how we are as a couple. Did we get along or did we fight? Did we socialize with friends, watch television, read books, get drunk, watch di
rty movies?”
Mariam smiled. “You know the Qur’an is against pornography and alcohol.”
“Yes, of course. What kind of movies did they watch in the seventh century, Disney’s Aladdin?” He asked sarcastically.
Mariam smiled again, even laughed a little
He went on, “What do I like to eat? Do you cook, or I, or do we eat out? Do you have hobbies? Do I? What transpired while I was gone? How come we don’t have children and how’s our sex life?”
Mariam replied with caution. “That’s a lot of questions all at once. I’ll answer the last two now, and the rest can wait. We have been trying to have children, so far unsuccessfully. I was pregnant last year for about six weeks and miscarried. As for our sex life, it used to be fantastic before we were married and you brought me back to this hellhole. The reason I laughed when you mentioned dirty movies is that the only dirty movie we have is a video of you and me. You filmed it when we were both in college.”
“Really, we have videos of you and me in the heat of passion? Where is it? I’d like to see it.” Kelly asked, suddenly interested.
Mariam went back to her magazine. “It’s a video tape, one stationary camera, not very professional looking. I don’t know where, somewhere in your office.”
“Office . . . I have an office? I thought I worked from home,” He asked, annoyed that he no longer held her full attention.
“You do. We just turned the spare bedroom into your office,” she said without looking up.
“And do I have a computer in my office?” He asked, still perturbed.
“You do. It is hooked up to a dish. I don’t know much about it, but you used to spend a lot of time on it.”
“Does Ahmed or anyone else know I have this computer?” Kelly was thinking this might be a good way to stay in communication with Starbird.
“I believe not, unless you told him.” Mariam sighed, obviously bored with the direction of the conversation.
“Let’s talk about the video again. If I can locate it, will you watch it with me?”
Finally, she looked up again. “If that is your wish, my husband.”
Mariam stood up. “It is almost dinnertime.” She headed to the small kitchen. “I’m going to fix dinner now.”
Kelly headed down the hallway to the second bedroom—the office. Inside, he turned on the computer. It required a password, and he didn’t have a clue. He tried Saleem’s birth date, driver’s license number, and about a dozen other possibilities, with no success. Then, he tried retrieving the latent memory, but couldn’t manage it without help. He called Jeff on the secure satellite phone Starbird gave him.
“Jeff, this is Kelly.”
“Yeah, I know. I thought we agreed you were going to call yourself Saleem when undercover. We can’t afford any memory lapses.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll be more careful, but right now I’m trying to figure out the password on Saleem’s . . . I mean my computer. Can you ask me my password?”
“What is your password, Saleem?”
Nothing! “It didn’t work. Ask me if my password is numerical, alphabetical or a combination. No, wait. I think it’s alphabetical but in Arabic.”
“That’s not going to work. Tell me the make and model number of the computer, and I’ll exchange a duplicate with you tomorrow so we can check out what’s on it. Is your keyboard in Western or Arabic alphabet?”
“Arabic.”
“Okay, I’ll get you a remote miniature keyboard that would be easy to hide when you’re not using the computer. We’ll set up your new computer so you can use it to communicate with us via email or instant message. We’ll also install a firewall so nobody can hack into it.”
“How will you get these things to me?”
“Haman is here now. We’ve rented an apartment in your complex, and he’s going to move in tomorrow. You can make the switch there. Place your hard drive in a bag or suitcase. Don’t let anyone see it.”
“Jeff, give me a little credit!”
“Sorry. Haman’s apartment is 214. He should be there about noon. You have anything more for me?”
“That’s right above us. Yes, there’s more, regarding my wife. She’s furious with me for participating in my death, if that doesn’t sound strange, and she insists on leaving the Middle East, with or without me. I’m positive she had nothing to do with the bombing, and I believe she’s serious.”
“Hmmm. You need to talk with Starbird. Where does she want to go?”
“She mentioned Malaysia, her home, Australia, where her father is from, and America.”
“Okay, anything else, pal?”
“Actually there is. My older brother acted very strange. He said I was the prophet of Allah, and I sat at the right hand of Allah. He called me ‘The Chosen One,’ and said that Suhar, Ahmed’s prayer leader, believes the Americans or anyone else won’t be able to harm me. Suhar wants to see me as soon as possible.”
“That sounds more like good news than a problem. Go see this Suhar, and see what he wants. If he wants to claim you’re some kind of prophet, all the better for you and your assignment. Let me know how it goes, and in the meantime, I’ll tell Starbird your problem with Mariam. I’ll contact you by phone when I have something to report.”
They said their goodbyes, and he hung up. Then he remembered he was looking for the video. Now where is that spicy little tidbit?
Book II
The DVD
Chapter 1
After dinner, Kelly went back in his office and rummaged around for the tape. Under his desk, he found a floor safe. Having no idea about the combination, he went in the living room to ask Mariam. She was on the love seat reading a romance novel.
“Do you know the combination to the floor safe?”
She looked up briefly. “I believe it’s your mother’s birthday.” And went back to her book.
“Which is?”
“You don’t know your mother’s birthday? Honestly, you look like Saleem and sound like Saleem, but something isn’t right.”
Hmmm. This is becoming a problem. True, nobody except maybe his mother would know him better than Mariam, but what if he couldn’t fool the radicals he’d be dealing with? He’d be dead meat! “Just humor me, will you?”
“I will humor you. Her birthday is May 4, 1952. You are acting less like Saleem, who cannot recall certain things, than Saleem who never knew those things. Why is that? Moreover, you keep your eyes hidden from me, your wife, who used to share everything with you, until you started to go to Suhar’s Mosque. May I see your eyes?”
Kelly grew uneasy. If he couldn’t assuage Mariam, he was doomed to failure, perhaps death, a third time, and somehow he didn’t think Saleem had as many lives as a cat. This was a crisis. He knew he had options, but they stunk. He could divorce her by saying, “I divorce you,” three times in front of two witnesses. Of course, then she would be humiliated and considered soiled goods, plus she could talk. An even more radical possibility was to kill her. There would need to be some sort of trumped up infidelity, then as a cuckolded husband, he had a right to legally kill her. Kelly doubted he could do that to an innocent woman. Besides, he liked Mariam. Perhaps, the way to go was to confide in her, giving her a modicum of truth or maybe even recruit her as a full-fledged member. She had strong feelings about the West and ambivalence about Islam, especially its poor record on women’s rights, but he couldn’t take it upon himself to make that decision. He left the room saying, “We will talk.”
“I’ll be waiting,” She said without looking up.
Back in the office, Kelly, started to enter the numbers, 5 - 4 – 52, but the dial only went to fifty. After trying fifty first, two worked. Inside were some miscellaneous papers, two checkbooks, one tape and a DVD. Mariam had specifically said there was one tape, so he wondered what the DVD was. He pulled them both out and looked them over. The slip-sleeve on the tape read, “Love” in Mariam’s flowing script. The DVD had no title. Curious, he inserted the DVD into th
e compact TV/VCR/DVD combo and watched the screen. The screen filled with Arabic script on a bright green background. With difficulty, he managed to translate the text. “The Saddam Brigade has declared war on the Zionist pigs that illegally occupy Palestine, therefore we have brought about the recent devastation in Tel Aviv.” It was up for about fifteen seconds, when a scene came on showing a young Muslim volunteer suicide bomber. It said he was the Tel Aviv martyr and gave his name, Kahlid Abany, and finished with an anti-Zionist diatribe.
