Drunk? Cory? She gave her head a hard little shake of disbelief. He doesnt get drunk. Ive never seen him drink more than a couple of beers before in my life.
Tony nodded. My point exactly. Id had my doubts before, but thats when I knew it wasnt right. She wasnt the one.
She rubbed at her throat; the ache there was becoming intolerable. Then why did he do it? she whispered. Why did he marry her?
He gave her a long hard look and finally said, Cant you figure it out? Youre a smart lady-put two and two together. He held up a finger. He doesnt have a family. A second finger joined the first. He wants one. Another finger. Time is slipping by. A fourth finger. You arent available, but someone comes along at just the right time, and she is available. The fingers clenched into a fist. Bingo-end of story.
Sam swallowed hard. Her eyes burned. She whispered, I dont care. If hed loved me, he wouldnt have done it. Couldnt have done it.
As far as she was concerned that was a fact, irrefutable, inescapable. And intolerable. Which didnt keep her from trying to escape it anyway, as she plunged off the porch and headed blindly for the village.
She had no destination in mind to begin with, just that overwhelming desire to flee from thoughts and emotions she didnt want to face, but after the first heedless steps, she decided she might as well make for the crude latrine the women had led her to earlier. On that trip shed satisfied herself that their custodian, the terrorist spokesman, was telling the truth when he claimed al-Rami wasnt in the camp. She was fairly certain the hostages wouldnt be, either-other than the hut the three of them were inhabiting, there simply wasnt a structure that could have held them. Not one with a door, anyway.
Tonight. He said, We go to al-Rami tonight. Thats what I have to concentrate on, she told herself. The job. And she was getting closeso very close.
She almost ran headlong into the phalanx of armed men that popped up out of the jumble of vegetation and overgrown huts to block her way, the so-called spokesman at their center with his trusty rifle at the ready. Behind them, Sam caught glimpses of several women waiting with heads shyly bowed, arms full of baskets of food and bundles of familiar-looking shoes and clothing.
She tried to explain, in her best Tagalog, that she was only going to the latrine, but the spokesman adamantly refused to let her pass.
Go back now, he barked in his choppy English, which he seemed incapable of speaking without using his weapon for emphasis. Eat first. Then put on cloths. We go when is dark.
Gosh, I was getting to kind of like this outfit, Sam said to the man as she was plodding back to the hut, reverting to English herself. You dont suppose I could keep it, do you? Like those complimentary hotel bathrobes?
The gunman, stone-faced, didnt answer. She shrugged and grinned at Tony, who was sitting on the porch where shed left him, his camera discreetly lowered. She told herself her heart didnt quicken its tempo when she saw Cory there, too, standing with his arms folded on his chest as if waiting for her, like a stern papa confronting a child caught coming in past curfew.
She resisted the temptation to stick her tongue out at him, and instead gave her head a breezy toss and said, Hey, look who I found. Ignoring Cory, she plopped down on the edge of the porch beside Tony and nudged him with her elbow. Cheer up, guys, they brought your pants back. And she laughed as he clutched belatedly at the edges of his sarong and tried without success to bring them together over his knees.
Laughingsmilingmaking jokesall to hide the fact that her heart was racing and she was helpless to control it. That her whole body seemed to be singing in response to Corys nearness, nerve endings lifting to him the way skin and hair react to static electricity, with sparks zapping and crackling at the slightest touch. Sparksthat could cause devastating explosions, if conditions were right.
She laughed and smiled and joked with Tony because she had no wish to deal with the jumble of emotions and memories and hurt feelings and fears that were her thoughts just then. As a pilot she knew better than to try to fly through that kind of turbulence.
That nights trek seemed almost a replay of the first. Cory even wondered at times if they might be traversing some of the same territory theyd covered the night before, their guides using darkness as a substitute for blindfolds as they led them in circles to confuse them. In any case, he was determined not to let his own impatience and inner turmoil distract him from experiencing and mentally recording the adventure, and his eyes and ears-not to mention his imagination-were busy as he scrambled in the wake of his escort, dodging branches and trying not to trip over the tangle underfoot.
In different circumstances, he thought, the jungle by moonlight might have seemed an enchanted place, with silvery shafts stabbing through breaks in the canopy like ghostly fingers reaching for something in the shadows clumped below. It wasnt quiet. Small jungle creatures confused by the half light rustled in the undergrowth and twittered in the branches high above their heads as they kept their nervous vigil against the predators that stalked them by moonlight. It was a hunters night; every now and then a desperate shriek from an unlucky victim shattered the busy whispering, rustling calm and sent shock waves skating along Corys nerves.
As the night wore on, though, and they left behind the jungle to follow a zigzag track through cultivated fields, his mind, freed of the necessity for constant vigil, began to wander. Perhaps it was inevitable, given recent events, that it should take him into forbidden placesattics of memory he hadnt allowed himself to visit in years.
A few yards ahead of him, he could see Sam as she walked beside Tony, no doubt trying to comfort him over the loss of his cameras, which were presently in the custody of their armed escort. Temporary custody, Sam had assured Tony, most likely to insure he didnt photograph any landmarks that might be used to trace the hideout of the elusive al-Rami. Which meant they were getting close
A few yards ahead of him, he could see Sam as she walked beside Tony, no doubt trying to comfort him over the loss of his cameras, which were presently in the custody of their armed escort. Temporary custody, Sam had assured Tony, most likely to insure he didnt photograph any landmarks that might be used to trace the hideout of the elusive al-Rami. Which meant they were getting close
Now, Cory could hear Sams soft laughter, a husky chuckle that seemed to blend with the other night noises, and he felt uncomfortable twinges ofsurely not jealousyas he watched the two shapes lean close for a moment, then veer apart. No, not jealousy-he had no right to that-perhaps envy was a better way to describe the pang it gave him to see the two of them together like thathis best friend and the woman he lovedor the way theyd been back at the hut, talking together on the porch when theyd thought he was sleeping. Not that he worried about Tony, or was surprised Sam would turn to him the way she had; everybody from old people to little children and puppy dogs tended to trust Tony, in spite of his ominous appearance. But hed felt those pangs nonetheless, and it was only now, walking alone in the early-morning moonlight, that it occurred to him the pangs might be loneliness.
He doesnt have a family He wants one.
The words hed overheard on the porch came back to him, along with a stab of resentment. What an oversimplification that was-like something out of a childs storybook. He was an adult, not a child, and hed made a fulfilling and successful life for himself without benefit of-or hindrance from-family. The thought of using that as an excuse for bad choices embarrassed him.
Besides, he thought, I had a familyonce. A happy one.
As if in defiance, he let them come, thenthe sunshine memories.
Dad, coming home from work, and the warm brown smell of oil and dirt and car grease permeating his skin and clothes, and mine, too, when I hug him. It makes me feel safe and good, that smell, and even now, all these years later, the smell of a mechanics garage gives me a sense of well-beinga sense that alls right with the world.
Mom, bending down to kiss me good-night before she rushes off to school, smelling of hand lotion and the dinner shes left for Dad and me. And that makes me feel safe and good, too, because shes smiling and her eyes are shining, and I know shes happy. Not to be leaving me-even as young as I am I know that. Im going to be a teacher, she tells me, and her voice has a breathless excitement that makes me feel it, too. Maybe Ill be your teacher someday.
Impatient, I ask her, When will that be?
Soon, she tells me. Very soon-when youre five.
Dad and me, just the two of us now, me in my pajamas cozy in my bed, Dad lying on top of the covers, his head propped on his hand while he tells me a story. Sometimes its one I already know, like The Three Little Pigs, and I chime in with him on the parts I know by heart, like when the Big Bad Wolf says, Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill BLOW your house down! But sometimes he makes up stories right out of his head, and thats the best thing of all.
They were the last of the good ones, those memories. Very soon after that his dad had gone away to fight a war in a place called Vietnam, and his mom had quit night school and theyd moved to a big city called Chicago, and his mom had gone to work in a store. Hed started school in a strange place, and his mom didnt smile as much, and she never did become a teacher, his or anyone elses.
That was the beginning of the gray times. The black times, the terrible times, the times he wouldnt let himself rememberthose had come later.
Dawn came while the moon, now a flat pale ghost, still floated low in the lavender sky, hovering above a bank of clouds that lay on the horizon like cotton batting thrown down to break its fall. The air was cool, and smelled of crushed vegetation and over-ripe fruit. Humidity lay thick on the grass and dripped like raindrops from the trees. A stillness lay over the jungle and fields and mountains alike, as if the world held its breath in expectation of sunrise.
Before it came, however, the trail theyd been following plunged suddenly into dark green shadows, zigzagging downward into a steep ravine. As they descended into the dense jungle growth Sam could hear the rush of water, muffled by the trees, and from somewhere up ahead, voices calling out challenges. Moments later, she, Cory and Tony were ordered, by the usual method-a thrusting rifle barrel-to halt. A new cadre of armed men, also wearing camouflage, appeared to block the path. Those who had brought them from the village hospital melted away into the jungle, all but the leader-the spokesman, who instructed them in his usual staccato English to follow the new escort. As they did so, he fell in behind them, stone-faced as always, rifle at the ready, and off they went once more, deeper into the ravine.