Migrant Hearts

by Isabella Abad

  "I know the problem is me," the woman said one day. But I have thought something that can help us.

  "You're not a problem to me, if you think that, you're wrong," the man replied, looking at her tenderly. You are the rock of this family, do not forget it.

  Dassim smiled and tried to keep the emotion that these words aroused in her from stopping her in her plan.

  "We must split. You can travel legally and I stay until I can solve my papers.

  "You'll never be able to do it, Dassim. You do not exist from the perspective of Migrations and that has no arrangement. But you do not have to worry.

  "I thought I could travel once you're in Europe ..."

  "How would you travel, woman?" He smiled at her naivety. The Mediterranean is not the desert that you crossed when you wanted without anyone asking you for any certificate. I know that you do not understand clearly even the enormous barrier that is a national border, especially in Europe.

  "I speak of traveling on one of those ships that carry people like me without papers ..."

  “No talking!" He shouted. "Do you forget what we've heard of them?" They are extremely dangerous. They are overloaded and those who succeed are intercepted.

  -But many arrive and are accepted ...

  “If you arrive, you are barely tolerated and exposed to everything. This subject is not to be touched anymore, do you think I would allow you to expose yourself in this way? How much desperation do I have to return that I would not pity you to drift?

  These last words were said in a low voice and with some bitterness. He lamented that his wife would believed he was capable of leaving her behind or risking her. It was likely that in his obsession to cross, always focusing on a better life for Titrit, he himself would have encouraged that idea.

  He approached her, who was head down and tenderly lifted her chin with one finger and kissed the corner of her lips.

  "I love you, Dassim. You are the woman I have chosen, you are the mother of my daughter. You are my family. And the family must be united where it can. Let us settle here. It is a good place, and surely we can find jobs that will allow us to live well.

  Dassim looked at him with her huge eyes veiled with tears. She was grateful that he would say these words, for many times in her heart she doubted Usem's love.

  "Yes, this looks like a good place." Let's bet it then.

  I can produce my handicrafts in leather, surely they can have output. I have seen that the city is visited by many tourists.

  Then they decided the establishment in Tangier, they began to project probable jobs. In order to do this they traveled the city from top to bottom several times, trying to know its places deeply, seeing their shops and services, asking for lodging prices, chatting again and again with locals to hear firsthand information about opportunities, whatever. They were going to start from scratch: no one knew them, they had no housing or work. So what came out in the first instance was what they were going to accept.

  Since tourism moved a lot of capital Usem saw in that a fertile field to look for some position in a hotel or as a guide. He did not know the city well, but he was fluent in several languages, and that had to be a good input. The other could be learned.

  While he was in the most important hotels, which always have more influx of European and North American tourists, Dassim settled with her carpets and belongings in one of the local artisan fairs. She worked at the same time that she sold and although the proceeds were not much at the beginning, it was a support.

  Three weeks later Usem got a temporary job at a rather busy hotel. His excellent skills of languages ​​soon positioned him and made him a definite place. With this came the economic respite and stability that they did not have for months. They were able to access better accommodation and less restrictions on tastes. Without luxuries, his life was nevertheless acceptable.

  Little Titrit grew in peace and joy, which was what Usem intended. They began to think about her education and how they would make her access good education. No matter the efforts, the man said, she should have the chance to educate herself and prepare for better opportunities.

  But it seemed that his life was not destined for stability, and in this case the irruption to its tranquility came from the hand of the Moroccan authorities. They came in one afternoon to the house and without word they proceeded to review it all, breaking, breaking and crushing everything in their path. Almost like a hurricane they liquidated part of the investments that the pair had made in the previous two months.

  "What's wrong?" Usem shouted as Dassim and Titrit sobbed cuddled in a corner. "Why do you do this?

  Once they checked all the interior calm seemed to return and the chief of the soldiers began a thorough and frustrating interrogation.

  - Who are you? ... Where do you come from? ... Who do you know in Tangiers? ... What connections do you have with Islamic groups? ...

  They both answered clearly, but the litany began to pick up again and again. Such that they seemed to seek to confront, confuse them.

  Finally, after a grueling interrogation session, the chief appeared to be satisfied. Watching the woman's work and accessing Usem's job references helped, but they were told that they were in the sights of the authorities. They had been denounced as feasible terrorists and this put them on a blacklist.

  "But denounced by whom?" Our only activity in recent months has been to flee disease and war.

  The soldiers withdrew, leaving behind the desolate family. Under suspicion from then and more, being watched constantly, nothing would be the same. Their works would suffer, they would probably expel Usem.

  "What evil is after us?" Cried Dassim. "Who could have denounced us?" For what reason?

  He was deep in thought. This sounded very bad to him, evidently someone plotted against them. And since they had no enemies in the city (who could have, they were just newcomers?), The only logical possibility was an ancient enemy.

  "Could it be that Badis's hatred followed us here?" It seemed remote, but the ties between the extremists were closed. Tangier had ceased to be a safe place for them. And if his suspicions were confirmed, no place was far enough in Africa.

  "Let’s be attentive, Dassim. Let's try to get on with our life, although I do not think it's possible in the long run. Go get the idea straight that there is someone who does not want us here. Let's see if they follow us or watch us. In addition to the police, clearly, they will be with their permanent eyes on us.

  Twenty one

  As he foresaw, his daily movements were controlled. This led to the curiosity and annoyance of his employers and despite his good performance his new status was not a good sign. Soon he was fired arguing cuts.

  The tension made a dent in Dassim, who exploded for any subject. One night she came sobbing and trembling, so much so that Usem was frightened. He could not calm her down.

  "They're here, Usem. I saw them, they are here ...

  “Who? What are you talking about?

  “ It's Badis, I saw him. He wanted to hide, but I recognized him. I am sure, he's the one who reported us. He hates you, he hates us ... He wants to see us dead!

  Once his suspicions were verified, he did not doubt a second the story, Usem concentrated on trying to find alternatives. Besides his grudge, Badis must have other intentions. He would not move so far without being required by his fundamentalists group.

  And suddenly he understood. They were organizing an attack in the city and they were their scapegoats. The perfect culprits of disaster.

  Realizing this made him desperate. The roads seemed closed: guarded, without work, surrounded by enemies and to be people responsible for future terrorist attack. He was sure, it was within the Machiavellian logic of his half-brother.

  He closed his eyes and fell into his thoughts. The action was imposed, they could not stand with crossed arms waiting for death or the final jail. They must leave again and urgently.

  With all the calm he was able to relate his suspicions to Dassim
who listened in silence. Fear was veiling her face, and the imminence of the disaster overshadowed her spirit.

  "Our time has come, Usem. We have no alternatives. Why so much hatred, so much rancor? Allah is kind, why do they kill in his name? "She cried between hiccups and cries.

  "I'm going to do my best to delay the moment you're talking about, Dassim. I will not accept this with my hands crossed. You and Titrit are my treasures, I will protect you tooth and nail.

  -But what can we do?

  "We will advance to the inevitable. They watch us, they should be planning this for a few weeks, they must first naturalize with the place. In that time we must do something to escape ...

  "They're not going to let us go, we're trapped ..." she almost shouted.

  “Calm down, calm down," he said. Let's sit down, let's be calm. Our security depends on that . We are on notice, it is essential for us not to give ourselves away so that they do not hasten their action. I'm going to find the way out, I promise.

  "We are between the sword and the wall ... Any exit you find is good if we move away from here," she said between sobs. I trust you, I trust, I always have.

  She hugged him desperately.

  Titrit had observed everything in silence, her heart shrunk, and only then, at the request of her father, did she approach. All melted into an endless silent embrace.

  Immediately Usem proceeded to figure out how to implement his plan, he had it. Previously the crossing of the sea was an unthinkable risk but now was the only possibility to come out alive. "Destiny seems to take solace in our misfortune," he thought bitterly. May the only hope be a precarious journey through the Mediterranean ...

  He crept slowly along the city pretending to find a job. He was known to be watched on two sides: Moroccan soldiers and extremists.

  From his pilgrimage he obtained the longed data. Where and when to ship, price of it. This was almost prohibitive, but somehow they were going to pay. Telling his wife, she searched for her jewelries in silence and handed them to them. There were two bracelets and a ring in carved gold, which had transcended from generation to generation.

  "It's your legacy, Dassim, we can not ..."

  "What legacy if we die?" She declared in her usual practical spirit, smiling. Allah will tell if we will survive, and if we do, we will build our own legacy.

  Having obtained the necessary money, after maneuvers of deterrence to possible spies that could suspect the reasons of the sale, they prepared to leave one night of April. Before leaving, they prepared their precious belongings with care, since nothing else they could carry. Papers, some money and some canned food. The three of them hugged one another at length and prayed. Then they sneaked out through the back of the house leaving the world they had built behind.

  They walked quickly and always in the shades and when they reached the coast they joined a cohort of those who, like them, did not find hope in Africa.

  Usem's heart was paralyzed when he saw the dinghy: an absolute precariousness and it was full of people, infinitely more than would have been prudent. Guarding the entrance and collecting the "fare" were a set of three badly faced armed ruffians betting.

  Protests were useless and backward march unthinkable. The only way was toward the sea, which struck hard against the beach.

  They climbed and squeezed toward the middle, which seemed the safest place. Dassim and Titrit trembled even though not a word or tear escaped them. Usem embraced them and tried to convey all his love. And the boat went to sea. Again they threw the dice to the destination.

  They were going to Ceuta, the first Spanish city in the Strait of Gibraltar. The miles would not be so many in normal conditions and boats, but at night and adrift, crowded and scared, the ride was hell. Shaken by the waves that the wind sharpened, the boat shuddered and with it the poor souls in it sailed. Some were praying, others were crying. Usem counted thirty people, including four children besides Titrit.

  The first large-scale jolt precipitated one of the navigators into the water, which sank into the blackness and he was seen no more. The hours passed and with them the bad weather increased. At dawn Usem counted bitterly twenty people on board.

  He embraced Titrit almost as if he were imposing a stump on her and holding Dassim's who looked lost, almost maddened with fear and exhaustion

  Suddenly a tremendous wave returned to check the boat and swept Dassim out of it. Immediately Usem rushed to the edge, not letting go of Titrit, trying to help his wife. But nothing he could do held her and disappeared before his eyes.

  Usem continued sweeping the sea with his gaze, trying to find a way to save her, crying his pain and squeezing her daughter against his chest. The worst had happened and nothing could had been done to prevent it.

  Immobilized and squeezing Titrit with dread, he swayed back and forth, as if in a trance. Pain, anguish, despair and weeping followed and prevented him from thinking. The prayer came like a litany and clung to her like a lifeguard.

  At that precise moment he felt agitation around him and when he looked, he saw the approaching vessel belonging to the Spanish Civil Guard. The same proceeded to the rescue of lucky ones that had managed to cross.

  "We are saved, we are saved," shouted one of the children. Usem nodded sadly and tried to strengthen himself before his daughter, who was watching him in silence.

  "Mom could not come, could she, Daddy?" She asked.

  The man felt his eyes overfiled with tears at the maturity of his little girl. She was safe, it relieved him. But the suffering, the guilt, and the emptiness that Dassim's death caused him had just begun.

  "Pretty, strong, amazing Dassim" cried his heart without being able to express himself openly. "You're gone, I've lost you and it's my fault."

  Twenty two.

  Victoria opened her eyes and tried to locate the objects in the darkness of the room. She felt Miguel's leisurely breathing at her side, plunged into a restful sleep after the night of passion.

  She sat up awkwardly and sat on the edge of the large bed that was in the center of the huge room. Miguel's apartment was luxurious, located in the center of the city in a select neighborhood. His family fortune but especially his good work allowed him to enjoy a high standard of living.

  She looked at her phone and saw that it was barely three o'clock in the morning. She was nonetheless sleepless, for some reason her mind had awakened her.

  She headed for the kitchen without making any noise. She wanted to enjoy the solitude that that hour imposed. She felt some uneasiness difficult to explain, but there it was.

  She made herself a coffee and snuggled into the large living room chair. If her mother had seen her drinking caffeine at that time, she would have berated her. But what case did she have, she could not be more awake.

  The last months had passed quickly, almost inadvertently. The relationship with Miguel had flowed and she had finally surrendered to her constant gallantry and flirtatious remarks. He was a man of delicacy and container, and he had surrounded her with kindness and exquisite gestures.

  His mother was in heaven.

  "You will not find a better man, no doubt. So friendly, so located. And so generous. What are you waiting? You can tell it's in the marrow for you.

  "Mom, how long have they bought you two or three bouquets?" I thought you were less materialistic ... "she teased, trying to avoid the subject.

  She did not want to discuss it with her, she knew she would not understand her feelings.

  "Come on, Victoria," she said seriously. You know what I mean. The carriage passes only once.

  "Ah, Mother, that's ancient story. From when women only knew and were linked to a man and if it did not work out they stayed to wear saints.

  Immediately she said it she regretted it. It seemed a perfect description of what she had lived and felt.

  Her mother looked at her, and when she saw her embarrassment, she did not want to deepen the wound. She changed the subject quickly.

  "Why do you not invite hi
m to dinner one of these days?" He sure has many interesting stories. You know that your father does not speak much precisely. It would be a good shot of talk for this house, "she said in a tone of complaint.

  Her husband raised an eyebrow without taking his eyes off the newspaper.

  She so much insisted that Miguel was finally invited. He delighted his parents with his gift of people and his stories. This was repeated several times and soon the going out between the two young people became more assiduous.

  Scenes, concerts and even a short tour of tourism were carving an ever deeper relationship, which resulted in sentiment.

  The first time he kissed her, taking advantage of her inattention, she felt dazed. Although he noticed she continued to open her lips until he got the answer expected. The kiss was long and became progressively passionate. To these followed the caress more and more daring. She stopped him at that moment and looked at him seriously. It was time to confess her feelings and she was not going to miss the opportunity to be honest with him and with herself.

  "I like you a lot, do not get confused," she said. But I want you to know that my heart is in love with another and this is something that I can not avoid.

  Miguel listened quietly. Victoria's mother had already mentioned some detail of what she had experienced in Africa, and he hoped that it was she who would touch the subject and developed it.

  "Who are you in love with, baby?" Since I've known you, I do not see you with anyone but me. Unless you're living a double life, "he joked, to encourage her to continue.

  The man I fall in love with is called Usem and I have not seen him for years. Our love story was brief but very intense: she related and her eyes was filled with the past.

  It was slowly revealing her history before a very attentive Miguel, what could betray an idea of ​​the barrier that the use of Usem to conquer Victoria

  But he was a practical, realistic man, not prone to fantasies. Yours was the present and the future, and just like things, Victoria was in love with a mirage. He was very careful to say such a thing, but it was what he thought.