by Eve Rabi
Omar and Shariff argue and yell a lot, and patients sport serious and even worried looks. They barely speak to Darla, Leeanne, and me anymore. When they do communicate with us, they’re snappy and curt, but I think it’s a show for Omar and his men. No longer do they share laughter and jokes, and the men keep their rifles close.
Reed enters one of the rooms with Shariff and Omar and spends more than forty-five minutes with them.
Curious, I quiz him the moment he enters my room. His response is an incoherent mumble.
But when I see him sitting on the edge of his chair, fingers tapping his thighs, his forehead furrowed while he studies the carpet, my concern escalates and I badger him about the meeting.
My nagging pays off – he releases a long breath and looks at me. “Omar wants me to leave. Says the baby is now born and I have no business being here. Says the baby is making the men weak and soft.”
“What?!”
Horrified, I quickly pick up Wyatt and hug him to my breast.
“Shariff told him to leave me alone, but Omar, he just wants me out of here.”
The thought of being in the bunker without Reed terrifies me. The thought of not being with Wyatt even for an hour makes me sick. “And …?”
“I don’t want to do this to you, Megan, but I don’t think I can be here for much longer. Anyway, Shariff’s with him right now – discussing me, you … let’s just give them a chance.”
I say nothing, still reeling from the shock of his words.
“Hey! Don’t look so worried. We’ll work it out.” His false bravado doesn’t fool me. I can see the anxiety in his eyes.
More unfamiliar men with automatic rifles and sinister scowls stream into the bunker and stay, intensifying the menacing atmosphere. We POWs feel threatened enough to avoid eye contact and keep out of their way.
Shaida no longer carries Wyatt, and Bygone no longer plays cards with the patients.
***
It’s 9:20 AM and Reed’s in my room pacing.
“What is it, Reed?”
He waves dismissively.
“You’ve been wearing out that carpet all morning with your pacing and I know something is up. Tell me.”
He stares at me for a moment, then crouches before me. “Okay, this is the situation: Omar, he wants to use you guys – Darla, you, Leeanne – in some type of prisoner exchange. Three of you for six Taliban members being held in Guantanamo Bay.”
“Really? And …?”
“It’s not such a bad thing, because …”
“Reed,” I say, trying hard not to show my disappointment. “The US – they would never agree to that. Especially since they think I’m in cahoots …”
“I know that, baby, I know. So, I’ve talked to my brothers and enlisted their help.”
“Really? How?”
Reed glances at his watch, then at me. “The Green Zone …?”
“Yeah …?”
“Rashaad – he’s about to go there.”
“Ohmygod!”
“Shhhh!” he puts his hand over my mouth. “If Omar and his men find out …”
I nod quickly.
“Chances are, they eventually will find out, because knowing the US – they will broadcast any help received from the citizens of Iraq throughout the world. They’d want everyone to know that they’ve won hearts and …”
“But …”
“… minds. So anyway, since Rashaad can’t really get inside the Green Zone, he’s going to pose as a vendor at the flea market outside, and when he gets close to a US soldier, he’s somehow going to tell them about you three and the real story behind you.”
I jerk to my feet. “Ohmygod Reed! What have you done?!”
“What do you mean?”
“Reed, they’d bomb this bunker in seconds if they know that some of their most wanted is here. I’m certainly not someone they’d want to rescue, Reed. I’m not someone they’d want to save. Not after all those horrible inflammatory speeches. What about Wyatt and Leeanne and Darla and … you? You will all perish, Reed!”
“I thought about that, Megan, but Omar – he’s out of control. Do I wait till he kills one of you? He particularly hates Darla, and I don’t think he likes the fact that Shariff won’t harm you guys. It’s a chance we have to take. Rashaad is to tell them there are women and children here as well.”
“I … I …”
“Call it off? I can do that, Megan.”
Just then Darla and Leeanne saunter in.
“What’s wrong?” Leeanne asks.
He nods at me. “Tell them.”
After an initial stammering, I manage to blurt out the whole situation to them.
“What is the Green Zone?” Leeanne asks.
“It’s a secured area in Baghdad – ten kilometres … houses coalition soldiers, administration staff, and is heavily guarded by military personnel. Almost impossible to get in, except through the manned checkpoints.”
“Sweet Jesus,” she says and clasps her hands in prayer. “Yes. Tell him to go and please let them rescue us!”
I look at Darla.
“Hey, I wanna blow this joint for sure,” she says. “Omar looks at me like I’m George friggin’ Bush.”
I turn and shrug at Reed.
“Wow! Imagine being rescued by strong, sexy, sex-starved, muscular Blue Berets!” Darla says. “Or is it green?” She shivers. “Blue, green – doesn’t matter. They’re all deeelicious!”
“Not a word to anyone, Darla. If you tell, Reed will probably be shot by Omar.”
“Relax, don’t be such a drama queen,” she scoffs.
“Let’s be positive and hope for the best,” Leeanne says. “We will be rescued. Nobody is so cruel to drop a bomb knowing full well there are innocent civilians – US civilians here.”
I look at the carpet. Now’s not the time to remind her of how Reed’s family died.
“I have to update my diary,” Darla says. “So much to write. Exciting!”
Keeping my beloved baby really close, I pack my bags, hide them under some bedding, and wait for freedom. Or to be killed.
Unable to relax, we all sit in my room on high alert, jumping at the slightest sound as we wait and hope.
Hope for the US to, after listening to Rashaad about our plight, engage in some covert operation where Special Forces or Navy SEALs with night-vision goggles and a video recorder burst through the bunker and rescue us, then televise the rescue throughout the world.
Even though I try to be optimistic, the thought of coalition forces dropping a bunker-buster on us, which will turn us all and the bunker to dust, plagues me. Makes me sick enough to want to throw up. Reed senses my anxiousness and reaches out to give me a hug. “Whatever happens, just remember, you are precious to me,” he whispers.
Ditto.
I grimace a smile.
***
11 p.m. Hope still flickers, but nerves fray.
“What a load of bullshit he fed you,” Darla says, throwing Reed a look of contempt.
“No, he did not,” I say. “I believe Reed.”
“Darla relax!” Leeanne says.
“It’s okay,” Reed says. “She has a right to …”
We are interrupted by Bygone charging into my room and whispering excitedly to Reed.
Reed jerks to his feet. “What?!” He places his arms on either side of Bygone’s shoulders as he listens. “When?!”
Releasing Bygone, he turns to me and for a moment I think he’s going to cry. “Rashaad – the fucking Americans shot him!” he whispers.
“What?!” Horror overcomes me.
“I have to go.” He hurries out of the room.
Stunned and disappointed, I look at Leeanne and burst into tears.
She puts her arms around me. “It’ll be okay,” she murmurs. “The Lord will take care of us. Leave it in His hands.”
“What if he dies?” I weep. “What if he’s dead already?”
She says nothing, but hugs me tighter.
Darla stands in the middle of the room, her trout-pout pursed, her nostrils flaring. After a while, she turns on her heels and storms out of the room.
***
Two days later, Reed returns to the bunker.
“Rashaad’s going to be okay,” he says in a weary voice. “I spent the last forty-eight hours at his bedside, but he’s stable now.”
Relief floods me. “I’m so sorry, Reed. If that were my brother …”
He nods and sits next to me on the bed. “How’s my baby?” he asks, rubbing his red eyes and blinking rapidly.
“He’s fine,” I say as I hand him Wyatt.
“Sorry that things went so horribly wrong,” he says. “I so much wanted you guys to get out of here that I didn’t even consider the possibility that Rashaad may get shot. Twice. No warning shot. Didn’t even get to tell them about you. They just wanted him to get back. I really messed up there. Feel so guilty about him, letting you guys down … I’m sorry.”
For a while we sit in silence. Leeanne and Darla, hearing Reed’s voice, enter my room.
“How is he? Why did they shoot him?”
“He’s going to be okay,” I tell them. “I think he got a little too close for comfort.”
Leeanne nods and shakes her head sadly. “A bullet or a bomb,” she murmurs. “That’s how the US solves everything, and that’s how Iraq solves everything.”
“Mfff! Guess I should unpack,” Darla says in a surly voice.
I will unpack tomorrow, but today, we sit silence and hold a funeral for hope.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Darla tornadoes into the room. “Can’t you shut it up? It’s driving me mad with its crying.”
“Darla, he’s got colic; he’s supposed to cry!” Leeanne snaps.
“It cries every night!” Darla yells. “How do I sleep? See these black bags?” She points a painted fingernail to her eye. “And then, I’m expected to work all day. Fucking frustrating!”
When I see Reed’s eyes narrowing, I quickly try to smooth things. “Okay, Darla, we’ll keep him quiet. Shut the door behind you.”
She slams the door so hard, Wyatt jerks with fright and lets out a piercing scream.
Reed jumps to his feet, ready to go after Darla.
“Reed, don’t!”
His jaw jutting, he slowly sits down again.
“What a bitch!” Leeanne says.
Darla charges in half an hour later. “Can’t you put a muzzle on that thing or something?”
“Darla,” Reed says, “I’m asking you nicely – back off, leave my baby alone, and don’t come back here. As Leeanne said – babies cry.”
“That ain’t my problem,” she flings. “Move your bitch and it into the dungeon. That way they won’t disturb all of us, who choose to remain childless because we value our precious sleep!”
“Darla, fuck off!” I hiss. “You move into the goddamn dungeon.”
“Bitch, I would gladly leave you the fuck alone if you could keep it down.”
“What a jerk-off,” Leeanne mutters.
Darla backhands Leeanne, sending her reeling across the room. “Say that again. I dare you.”
Reed springs up, grabs Darla by the throat, and slams her against the wall. “A few things,” he snarls. “My son’s name is Wyatt, not it. Never touch Leeanne again, and don’t you ever yell at my girl or my baby again, or I’ll kick the SHIT OUT OF YOU!”
For a moment, Darla is too stunned to respond.
Leeanne and I stare speechless at Reed. We haven’t seen him this tense or angry in almost a year.
Darla regains her acid composure, looks Reed in the eye and says, “Oh yeah?”
Reed releases her an inch, only to slam her back into the wall, his face dark with fury.
“Reed!” I shout and run to him. “Stop!”
“Yeah!” Reed mimics. “And after that, I’ll have you moved to the dungeon where you’ll spend the rest of your days. You want to try me?”
“Reed!” I grab his arm and jerk him off Darla.
Darla glares at Reed, then at me. “I will get you back,” she promises. “Just you wait and see.”
Reed shrugs in a go-for-it manner.
Darla turns and walks out. This time, she doesn’t slam the door, just shuts it.
Breathing heavily, Reed stares at the closed door.
I step between him and the door. “Reed!”
“What?” he snaps.
“We’re all under a lot of stress with … our new management, okay? So let’s just calm down. Please?”
He nods several times. “Okay, okay! I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
I smile inwardly as I remember his words. My girl – how sweet.
Besides rolling her eyes each time Wyatt cries and muttering under her breath, Darla leaves us alone after that.
***
“Now what’s wrong?” Leeanne asks.
“Nothing,” I mutter and rub my forehead really hard, as if to clear away unpleasant thoughts.
“Yeah? But you’re doing that pacing thing again.”
“Am I?” I fling my arms down and let out a long sigh.
“Tell me, Megan.”
I lock eyes with hers and say, “I want my baby.”
She stares at me for a moment, then holds Wyatt out to me. “Tell me you’re asking me to give him back to you … now. Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
Silence.
“Megan?”
I rush over to her and place my hands on both her shoulders. “Leeanne, I’ve changed my mind. With all this talk about Reed leaving the bunker with Wyatt, Omar taking over, and all this … this uncertainty I’m facing, I want my baby. I realize I want to somehow take him back to America and be a mother to him and I … want … my … baby.”
“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”
“Yeah, you can say it, Leeanne – I told you so.”
Another long sigh. “Have you talked to Reed about this?”
I stiffen up. “No.” My voice is curt, my back suddenly straight.
“Why? Why haven’t you?”
It takes a while before I respond. My shoulders sag as I shake my head slowly from side to side.
She nods her understanding. “But you need to talk to him. In spite of your fears.”
Nodding, I rip my nails with my teeth.
“Megan … how will you explain Wyatt to everyone outside the bunker?”
My shrug is one of defeat.
“Think about it, Megan,” she says in a tender voice. “Before you make decisions, give it some thought. What you’re asking for is huge, considering your promise to him. It’s like a surrogate mother changing her mind. Gets messy.”
“It has to be done,” I mumble. “I have to tell him. I can’t bear it anymore. I can’t eat, can’t sleep at the thought of never seeing Wyatt again.”
“Okay, then do what you have to do.”
***
“Reed, I … sit down, please.”
Slowly, he lowers his bulk into a chair. “You’re scaring me. Never seen you so serious before.”
I twist a lock of my hair with my fingers as I gear up for the storm ahead. “Reed … um … I want Wyatt.” My voice is barely audible.
“Wha …?”
I look at the carpet.
“Like … how, baby?”
Damn him for using such a tender voice on me. This would be a breeze if I was mad at him, if he was being a jerk.
Suddenly, he stiffens. “Oh no, no, no, no! Megan, don’t do this.”
“What? What?” I demand, dressing my nervousness in a coat of arrogance.
He jerks to his feet and throws out his hands. “We had a deal. We have a deal, Megan.”
“Yeah, but guess what? I changed my mind. I’m taking him. Deal with it.” My look is defiant.
He looks and shakes his head. “What’s come over you? Where’s this … this arrogance from, Megan?”
My response is an exaggerated shrug.
“I need to protect him, Megan,” Reed says in a patient voice. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give him ...”
“I’m his mother …”
“…who wanted to abort him at one stage, remember?”
The reference to the abortion makes me squirm. “Well, I guess … I guess, things have changed.” I stand, arms akimbo, my eyes oozing defiance.
His sigh is long. “Megan, the reality is, you’re probably going to jail when you get out. Guantanamo Bay. You do realize that, right? And what happens to Wyatt then? Foster care?”
“I’ll get a good lawyer, I’ll work it out. Whatever it is, I’ll ... I’ll take care of it. My family – they can help. I’m taking Wyatt, Reed.”
We enter into another one of our staring contests. He wins.
“Forget it,” he flings over his shoulder as he turns to leave.
I race ahead and plant myself between him and the door, mustering all the determination I possibly can in my chin.
His eyes narrow. “This is unFAIR, Megan!”
I wag my finger in his face. “You don’t have a right to tell me …”
“I have every fucking right!” he hisses. “I paid my dues. I paid with my family’s life! Understand that.”
“That’s the past! I’m his mother; I won’t allow you to …”
“You won’t allow me?” His smile is mirthless.
“You find this funny? Go fuck yourself! You got me into this mess, now you want to call the shots? I’m not one of your harem or something, dude. This is my baby, and you don’t have a say in his life.”
With a sigh, he closes his eyes and runs his fingers slowly through his hair. “You have …” he shakes his head. “You’re ungrateful. I don’t want to do this anymore, Megan. I’m sick of you. I want nothing to do with you anymore. You’re trouble. I’m done! Hear me? From now on, stay away from me!”
He brushes past me as he strides out of my room.
“Don’t you walk away from ME! This is important!”
He spins around to look at me. “I’ll come back when you are more reasonable, Megan!”
Furious that he would dare walk away from me, walk away from such an important issue, I grab a vase and throw it at him. It smashes against his head and he stumbles forward.
He touches his head, then looks at his hand. When he sees blood, he shakes his head. “You’re a crazy bitch!”
