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Oasis

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by Katya de Becerra


  About my name: Alif is a version of aleph, the first letter of Arabic and Hebrew and other Semitic alphabets. Aleph stands for familiar or tamed. The written symbol for aleph represents the oneness of god—which makes Alif a rather peculiar name choice for me since both my parents are atheists. I read somewhere that when carved into a golem’s forehead, aleph helps spell the word that can bring the being to life. Aleph also means an ox. Yes, an ox. Minh says it makes perfect sense—I can be stubborn like an ox. Personally, I prefer to believe that my name was inspired by that Borges story about the entire universe being concentrated in one spot, located in some old house’s cellar.

  I used to get teased a lot because of my name. Kids can be cruel, you know. I was called “Olive,” “Autumn Leaf,” and even “Palmolive.” In particular, there was one boy in school who made tormenting me a daily sport. Nicky was his name. The whole Nicky-bullies-Alif situation improved after Lori befriended me, but only somewhat. I never knew for sure why Nicky singled me out, but I had my suspicions. Racism can be so subtle, yet so pervasive, and Nicky’s routine of ridicule always made me suspect the worst. With time though, I got so used to it that I almost stopped paying attention. Lori, and then Rowen and Minh, became my shield in a way, allowing me the luxury of forgetting that the outside world, with all its casual cruelty, existed. But then Luke Stokowski joined our little circle. The five of us were in the school cafeteria for lunch one day when Nicky called me out. Without giving it a second thought, Luke punched Nicky right in the face. Blood streaming from Nicky’s nose all over his mouth and neck was the fuel of my nightmares for days to come. Luke’s act of sudden violence and his refusal to apologize to Nicky, even under the threat of expulsion, solidified Luke’s place in our group.

  Though I had nothing on Nicky’s grade of nasty, I wasn’t the nicest kid in my school either. I never bullied anyone myself, but I also didn’t stand up for the truly miserable kids. And yes, there were those who had it way worse than I did. Before I became friends with Lori, my plan for surviving school was to mostly just drift along, to keep my head low. I was also planning on legally changing my name the first chance I got. I thought I’d become Kylie or Britt.

  But now I think I’m fine being Alif.

  * * *

  Our plane was readying to land, and all I could think about was how to rid my breath of that particular taste-scent of coffee and soda and long-haul journey that clings to you no matter how many mints you consume.

  Minh stirred awake by my side and lifted her head from my shoulder. Her hair was sticking to her face with travel sweat. “There?” Her question made me smile. She was too tired to form coherent sentences.

  The seat belt sign switched on before I could get up and fight my way to the bathroom against my fellow passengers. Luke, who was still asleep, remained true to his word and hadn’t left his window seat during the entire flight. There must have been something wrong with him and his bladder.

  As the plane descended, turbulence gave it one serious shake. I was never scared of flying, but still my fingers dug into the chair’s armrests as everything around me continued to tremble. Luke jolted awake and started to unbuckle his seat belt. When he attempted to climb over Minh on his way to the bathroom, a flight attendant demanded he remain in his seat. The attendant’s smile was pleasant, but there was a steely glint of annoyance in his eyes. Luke swore under his breath.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Try not to look too nervous at passport control,” I suggested. He just glared at me.

  The turbulence subsided, and our plane landed without a hitch. Luke took off the moment our group cleared customs. He dashed toward the bathrooms, nearly slipping as he rammed into the door. The rest of us formed a small cluster, keeping our luggage close. I looked around me and savored the air, my lungs quivering with excitement. Even with the airport’s air-conditioning system blasting in full force, and despite its being January, one of the coolest months in this part of the world, I could sense the heat outside the airport.

  While we waited for our ride, Rowen went for a stroll around the arrivals area. He exchanged some money and bought enough candy to feed an army. He offered us some of his haul, which was almost completely made up of Al Nassma camel-shaped chocolates, wrapped in white-and-gold foil. Lori immediately stuffed her mouth, competing with Rowen for the highest number of chocolates a human can consume in under a minute.

  We stood there, snacking on chocolate through our jet-lagged confusion. Overeager taxi drivers kept approaching our group with offers to take us to our hotel, but we just smiled at them and shook our heads politely. Minh and I perched atop our luggage, sitting side by side. For someone who’d never left Australia and for the most part led a pretty sheltered life, Minh seemed to be doing fine. I watched her while she was eyeing Rowen, who in turn was too deep in conversation with Lori to notice anything.

  His reddish hair in wet spikes, Luke returned from the bathroom. Smiling sheepishly, he stood next to me and started saying something, but my attention drifted once I caught a glimpse of Tommy Ortiz in the crowd.

  Tommy couldn’t see us yet, which allowed me a rare chance to ogle him as he walked tall, comfortable in his body. His strides were confident, and his dark hair gleamed in the too-bright fluorescent light. He was wearing standard dig attire—dark olive khakis, sturdy hiking boots, and a white long-sleeved shirt. When he suddenly met my eyes, I was caught staring. Self-conscious, I focused on my feet.

  “Tommy! Over here!” Minh was waving at him, beckoning him like he hadn’t just seen our mismatched huddle. When Tommy reached us, he issued a polite greeting directed at our entire group. That done, he briefly froze as if unsure what to do, then snapped out of it and grabbed a piece of luggage closest to him. It was mine, the label with my name facing up. I wondered if that was a coincidence or whether Tommy decided to carry my stuff on purpose. I picked up my gigantic backpack and trudged along with my friends as we followed Tommy outside.

  You don’t really know heat until you come to a place like Dubai. The air was so humid it was like being in a sauna with your clothes on. Every inhale burned and tickled my throat. I tried breathing through my mouth to see if that was any better, but it made it worse. The second we stepped outside, Tommy produced a baseball cap from his pocket and put it on. Watching him, I felt irresponsible for packing all my headgear in my checked luggage and not in my carry-on, where it’d be easily accessible. During our short walk to the airport parking lot, the top of my head got so hot I was surely headed for heatstroke. Luke mimicked Tommy and put a cap on, pulling the brim as low as he could to shade his pale, freckled face. Lori unfurled the tasteful silky gauze scarf she had wrapped around her neck and spread it over her head in a casual but stylish way. Only Minh, Rowen, and I remained at the sun’s mercy until we reached Tommy’s monstrous four-wheel drive.

  Tommy and Rowen secured some of our luggage to the top of the car, while the rest of our stuff was pushed into the spacious trunk. At last, I climbed inside the blissfully cool car, grateful for air-conditioning.

  “Well, this is Dubai, kids,” Tommy said, eyeing our oddball group in the rearview mirror. “I hope you’re ready for the experience of your lives.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t come off cheesy at all.” Minh snorted, and I caught a glimpse of Tommy grinning at her. I promptly looked out the window, focusing on the view instead of wondering whether Minh’s exchange with Tommy counted as mutual flirting.

  As we drove farther and farther away from the airport, the city of Dubai rose from the desert. A mirage of modernity, complete with skyscrapers glistering in the sunlight. The excitement that was pummeling blood against my ears dwindled when we didn’t enter the limits of the city proper, instead veering left and setting course for Tell Abrar, where Dad and the endless sea of dust awaited us. That was the reason we were here—the dig site. I could always check out Dubai with my friends on one of the weekends.

  My eyes were glued to the car window, busy taking in the desert�
��s Mars-like scenery, alternating with modest houses and gas stations. A deafening roar of engines preceded a small group of motorcyclists speeding past us. The riders were wrapped in leather and the spirit of adventure, and I recalled a period of my childhood spent obsessing over Lawrence of Arabia. I imagined T. E. Lawrence himself standing on a dune somewhere, lungs filling with the clean hot air of the limitless desert. Or perhaps he was surrounded by the bedouin in the hinterland or riding his motorcycle through the ocean of sand, leaving it forever haunted by his dagger-wielding, white-clad ghost.

  I exchanged an excited look with Minh and then with Lori, their eyes equally bright. The three of us had trouble suppressing our burbling anticipation. This was it. We’d made it.

  After about an hour on the road, we arrived. Here at Tell Abrar the sand-swept landscape unfolded as far as the eye could see.

  Tainting my excitement with unfounded worry, Tommy’s post on Dig It came back to me all of a sudden. Being here, away from modernity and surrounded by sand on all sides, the unforgiving sun over my head, it was easy to surrender to the idea of meteors crashing into the sands, their fiery spirits lingering to haunt the land to this day. I was about to ask Tommy about his strange blog post, but he finished parking our car and it was time to get out and get going.

  Let the adventure begin.

  WELCOME TO THE DIG

  By the time we arrived at Dad’s dig site, the light was beginning to fade. With darkness encroaching came a slight temperature drop. Whenever Dad talked about his fieldwork experiences, he never failed to mention how unforgiving the desert could be: The desert, it’ll treat you like an equal if you are prepared, if you are strong enough, but it’ll devour you whole if you display any sign of weakness.

  After showing us to our assigned tents, where we dropped our luggage, Tommy took us by the supplies marquee. There, a perky Swedish graduate student named Ada, her eyelashes and brows almost as pale as her skin, issued us camp-appropriate attire: unisex khakis, steel-toe shoes, and long-sleeved shirts. Also baseball caps, the same kind Tommy was wearing, designed especially for this dig campaign. The excavation project was primarily sponsored by two philanthropic research-funding bodies and six universities, including Australia’s Dunstan University and some of Dubai’s local institutions.

  I eyed the cap I was given. It didn’t look much different from a V8 Supercars merchandise item, with sponsor logos covering almost the entirety of the fabric. Ada informed us we were to wear our dig uniforms and caps throughout our stay, as the sun and the heat were unforgiving. Dehydration and heatstroke were a daily threat.

  After saying our goodbyes to Ada, Tommy ushered us on a mini tour. Even as the sunlight vanished completely, the camp was still bustling with activity. Most of the people we ran into were of the blond and blue-eyed variety. This was strange because a bunch of universities located in the region were among the dig’s key sponsors, so I’d expected the largest chunk of student volunteers to be local.

  All the dig site’s nightly illumination, weak and eerie by this point, came from small generator-run lamps fastened to the tents. Two main paths—one winding between the sleeping tents, stretching all the way to the medical center, and another leading to the portable bio-toilets and eco-showers and, farther on, the cafeteria—crossed at the camp’s center. Each residential tent slept five, but since it was still the dig’s early days, I was to room with Lori and Minh, without anyone else joining us. The situation was different for the boys: Rowen and Luke were sharing sleeping quarters with three students from University College London. The Londoners were here to collect data for their master’s theses, and it sounded like they’d have little time to socialize.

  By the time Tommy was showing us the cafeteria, I was only half listening. Whether it was the postflight fatigue, the lingering heat, or both, there was something off about the dig site. It was well populated but also subdued, like something lying in wait, its tail coiling. Once more I wanted to question Tommy about that blog post he wrote chronicling Tell Abrar’s alleged paranormal lore, but this wasn’t a good moment—with Minh hanging on Tommy’s every word and Luke sticking too close to me for comfort.

  As if he had access to my thoughts, Luke interrupted Tommy’s reciting of our meal schedule. “So I’ve read that blog post you wrote about this place, and I have questions. Like what some meteor crashing into the desert almost a century ago has got to do with this site and people disappearing into thin air?”

  Tommy looked at Luke as if he were speaking in tongues. Then Tommy’s eyes shifted to me. He wasn’t getting any help here; I wanted to know about his blog post too.

  “It was just a way of generating some external interest for the dig,” Tommy offered, the words coming off practiced. “Unusual local history tends to attract investors.”

  This rationale made sense, but Tommy wasn’t answering the real question. And as it turned out, he wasn’t planning to. Luke’s mention of the blog post made Tommy cut the tour short; he left us to our own devices. His abrupt dismissal left an annoying aftertaste, obvious from everyone’s faces.

  Then Rowen said conspiratorially, “Should we celebrate our safe arrival?” His professionally whitened teeth all but shone in the dark.

  “What did you have in mind?” Lori’s voice dropped low as a group of camp residents shuffled along the sandy pathway not far from us.

  “We could get keys to one of those jeeps and drive ourselves to the city. It won’t take more than an hour. I’ve heard about this rooftop bar…”

  Lori looked excited, but Minh was having none of it. “The most ridiculous part of this plan is that you’re actually being serious.” Minh glared at Rowen, her dark hazel eyes drilling into him. “You’re gonna get us all in trouble on our first night here. We’ll probably get arrested for being underage and trying to get into a bar.”

  “You’re no fun.” Rowen shook his head, his eyes not meeting hers. “Maybe you should stay here then, Minh. But the rest of us, we’re going to do something, right?” He looked between us for approval, but Minh’s grim prediction dampened everyone’s mood. Even Lori didn’t seem that enthused anymore.

  Not finding support for his plan, Rowen was shaking his head as he addressed all of us. “You’re all so boring.” He looked at Lori. “Do you want to ditch them?”

  Lori nodded, eager once more, and, without another word, the two of them rounded the medical tent and the night swallowed them.

  “I’m calling it a night,” Minh announced. She slid her hands into her pockets and found my eyes in the semidarkness before taking her first tentative steps toward the tents. She hesitated. I knew she was expecting me to follow her. When I didn’t, she looked at me again, eyes heavy with a silent question. After a pause, visually deflated, she wished me and Luke good night and strolled in the general direction of our tent.

  I wasn’t sure why I chose to stay. It wasn’t that I wanted to hang out with Luke all that much. But I also couldn’t imagine getting into bed right away—too much travel adrenaline. Besides, spending some quality one-on-one time with Minh could lead to us discussing this whole Rowen-Lori situation, and I just didn’t want to open what surely promised to be a can of worms. And besides, where exactly did my loyalty lie? I was friends with Minh, yes, but I was also friends with Rowen and Lori.

  “Wanna go for a walk?” Luke motioned at the darkened path that stretched away from the main cluster of tents. When I met his eyes, he smiled. I smiled back; we shared a moment of understanding. We were too excited to be here to just go to sleep. And I was relaxed around him. If Luke had ever been into me, he would surely have made his move by now.

  “Sure,” I said. “As long as we don’t go that way.” I indicated the path recently taken by Lori and Rowen. That made Luke laugh, and we proceeded in the opposite direction.

  I kept tripping because my eyes were being drawn up to the sky—cloudless and fragile, with bright stars and a gigantic moon that had a green undertone to its paleness. The moon’s every dark
spot was defined with almost artistic precision.

  When I tripped again, Luke wove his fingers around my wrist. Somehow that progressed into holding hands. I’d have taken this unexpected development as a friendly gesture if not for the uncharacteristic intent to the way Luke’s fingers gripped mine and the weird tension coming off him in waves. He’d never been tense around me before. We both must’ve been tired from our trip and, before that, from our final school exams. I gave Luke a puzzled look that got lost in the night, and we kept on walking like that, holding hands.

  When we were far enough from the camp for the groups of tents to become amorphous blurs, we stopped and, without conferring, sat on the ground. I let go of Luke’s hand and looked up to watch the stars, wishing I had a nice little Dobsonian telescope on me right now. Some of the tension I sensed from Luke earlier seemed to be waning, and I was glad of it. With Lori apparently hooking up with Rowen, I didn’t want to start anything with Luke and leave Minh out of the group and on her own. She was already broody. Besides, I never thought of Luke as anything more than a friend. He was a nice-enough guy, and he did break the nose of my bully that one time, but still.

  “So … Would you like to make out? With me?” Luke asked.

  I sharply inhaled and faced him. I couldn’t see his freckles, but I could imagine his face was turning a shade redder under my shocked stare. Luke laughed and looked away, embarrassed. Before I could come up with a response to his blunt proposition, he went on.

  “Before you laugh it off and then get all weird around me for the rest of our holiday, hear me out. I’m thinking … you’re hot, I’m hot, and we’re both unattached … Why not, you know, take advantage of it while we’re out here and under lax adult supervision?”

  His brutal honesty caught me off guard, to the point that I began considering his offer.

 

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