As soon as they secured the ride on the boat full of tourists, Amina removed her head covering. She did her best to blend in. She stayed close to Brian. Some people thought they were married. Others that they were lovers. Neither of them did anything to discourage the idea. Brian thought only of getting to Nice. Amina only of getting to her lover’s rendezvous. She actually thought Brian had more luggage and that she hadn’t seen it on the bus. She assumed he got it off the bus and hid it in a locker. She obviously had not given it that much thought because they walked into the terminal together. She even commented on how light he traveled hoping to get more info. Brian’s response was that of a teenager. “Yeah.” While he was sleeping she felt the corner of the bag that protruded out of from under the pillow. She could feel some books but concluded that they were not her journals. Her journals had a ribbing to them. These books felt as if they had a very smooth binding. Maybe they were in a different part of the bag. No, the bag was not that big. Brian never let the bag out of his sight. But every time she had an opportunity she pinched it. Top. Bottom. Left side, Right side. She convinced herself that he did have them. Yet she was absolutely certain that he had removed them from the book store. She was dying to find out what happened to her books. If he didn’t have them, the guards would not have stopped him. Or he would have just opened his bag and showed that he did not have them. Maybe he’s already sold them to Hasan. Or maybe he’s holding out for more money.
All the possibilities were giving her a headache. The rocking of the boat did not help. To keep her mind off the subject she moved from cluster of tourists to cluster of tourists. None of them spoke any more than phrase book Arabic. A few were bold enough to ask for help with a few phrases. A few spoke French. Most spoke English or Spanish. Her English was terrible. She new a lot of words but couldn’t put them together in a sentence. She sounded like the bad dialog from an old American western movie. “Fish me like eat”. “Me dance no” She preferred to speak French or help others with their French or Arabic. Teaching gave her a sense of value and usefulness that she had not felt in a long time.
Brian knew there was some connection between the guards that assaulted him and Amina. Aside from her confession that the man in Tangier worked for her husband he could tell by the way she interrogated that little girl that she knew something about the situation. Brian had learned Arabic from an Australian when he was stationed in Afghanistan and Iraq. But he couldn’t read a single word. He was working to learn their writing system but it was painfully slow and he didn’t practice a lot. He learned French the same way, but from a man from Quebec. He hadn’t learned that the Canadian French and “real” French were so different. He spoke what he knew with confidence mixed with enough self-awareness to learn new words and phrases anytime they were presented. So he knew there was a connection between the guards and Amina. There must be a connection between the books and Amina otherwise they would not have asked him for them. Maybe they were blackmail material. The question is are the guards trying to blackmail their boss or is Amina trying to blackmail her husband. He wanted to know. He needed to know. He did not want to be attacked in the night because he was in the same bedroom, or bed in the case of last night, as a jealous man’s wife.
Over the last couple of days, he was able to put himself in a place were no one could see what he was looking at on his phone. In fact, he had taken the SIM out of the phone so that he couldn’t be called or traced and he never gave a hint that he had a phone. He viewed and reviewed the pics he took of the journal. Some were in Arabic. Some in French but with no French words he knew. There was a page that looked like something out of an accounting journal. A list of accounts and numbers. The names were in English but made no sense. Donald Duck, Betty Boop, David Bannister and so forth. He did not know that Amina used physical or personality traots as the link between the real person and the fictional character. He decided that the journals must belong to Amina and neither the guards nor the husband. After studying the pages several times he started to recognize the obvious. The handwriting was neat, very neat and feminine not masculine. It’s possible that they could have belonged to a female employee of her husbands but that wouldn’t explain why the guard attacked her. He didn’t want to tell her that he had them, or more accurately, that his friend had them because he didn’t want her to send someone ahead to Charlie’s to get them. Nor did he want her to kill for them. She took care of that guard, after all.
As the boat entered the bay of Cadiz and began to make it’s final wide arc into the artificial harbor, Brian and Amina sat in a booth alone. No one was within 10 feet of them. Most of the tourists had rounded up their luggage and stood close to the exit as if the boat was going to swing by the dock and give them only seconds to disembark. Brian’s arm was on the low seat behind her and he was leaning into her and talking softly. Anyone looking at the two would surmise that he was talking foreplay. In reality he was just talking quietly so he couldn’t be heard. And in a calm voice to maintain calm. He decided to take an indirect approach.
Am I in danger because of a powerful jealous husband? Does he think I’m the lover that swept you away?
She smiled at the beauty of the thought. No. If you’re in danger at all it’s because you are with me and might be thought of as my accomplice.
Accomplice? What did you do? Did you embezzle a large sum of money from his business or are you running to the arms of one of his competitors.
Neither. By running away from him, I lose any financial security I could have had with him.
She looked away and then into his face. Then looked away again. She feared him because she assumed he killed the guards with skill and indifference. An onlooker would have thought that she was debating whether to give into his charms or not.
His gaze did not waver. He looked with a calm, kind focus that reminded her of her uncle. Her uncle was always so kind and patient with her but he saw straight through any stratagem of hers to circumvent his will. She looked away to regain courage. She felt so tired as if her energy were draining through her toes. She looked at his face again. She had completely forgotten the way a man looks at a woman as a person to be courted. Not as an object to be handled like a soccer ball. Her calloused heart softened just a little. She felt a new level of trust. Not complete trust. But a little bit more.
I must, I simply must get away from him at all costs. When we were young we fell in love. For a while we lived a happy life building a home, a business a life together. But something happened, as we prospered he became seduced completely by money. Like a junkie, he wanted just one more hit. I became a thing in his life, an asset like the cars or the house. I toughened my mind and heart against his indifference. He kept me behind walls of gold. Somehow, you opened a crack in the prison wall. I must exploit it all costs.
The boat slowed to a crawl as it was pulled and tied to the dock. People began to disembark noisily and happily. Tourists on their way to the next thing to gawk at. Amina kissed Brian’s cheek and gently slid her hand from his neck to his chest and leaned away.
Thank you for listening. Thanks for not condemning me.
You’re a fine woman and you deserve to enjoy everything life has to offer.
They had nothing to gather so they simply stood up and walked off the boat. As soon as their feet hit land their sense of danger kicked in again. Because they didn’t know what Hasan’s men knew, they didn’t know what to expect. They didn’t expect Massood in Tangier. Amina was not as tense here as in Tangier. Brian’s idea to use a tour boat instead of a ferry, was expensive but brilliant. Most of the witnesses were on this side of the strait and were quickly dispersing to parts unknown. Only 2 or 3 of the security force had ever seen Amina without her head covered. And no one but Hasan had seen her dressed like a tourist with bare shoulders, exposed calves, pony tail and big sunglasses. Now that they had a little bit of breathing room she wanted to plan more carefully.
They arrived in Spain with only what they hand in their hands and on their backs. The shops would be closing soon but they managed to buy a few basics. Brian bought some espadrilles, a ribbed shirt, light yellow and 1 pair each of khaki shorts and pants. He also bought a larger travel bag. Not as big as a carry on piece but larger than the small messenger style bag he had. Amina bought a knee length skirt, black sleeveless blouse and some a large, over the shoulder bag that could double as a purse. She also bought a streaky blue wig, chromed sunglasses and punkish jewelry. Then they found a quiet place to eat where they could see the street but the street couldn’t see them.
Once the food arrived, and her mouth was full of a spicy lamb dish. Brian asked, Aren’t you tired of putting all your money in your underwear?
She almost spit out her food or choked or both. It was like making out on the porch after a date, thinking your parents are asleep. But they’re quietly sitting in the dark at the other end of the porch. There are no words to that will adequately cover up. The best thing is to just apologize and for the boy to leave.
How did you know?
I can hear the paper crinkling. I can hear the jingling of the jewelry. I saw you jump from one floor to the next in Casablanca. Between that day and the next you seemed to have gained 40 pounds. He smiled gleefully.
She was disarmed. What could she say?
Just to be clear, I did not steal from my husband. I have been planning to leave for 2 or 3 years. I knew there would be risk. Whenever I could I would set money aside. He would give me 20 to buy snacks. I would get 6 back, keep 3 and give him 3. When 3 became 20 I would exchange singles for a larger denomination. When I had a chance to by quality jewelry I would by 2 pieces. 1 with his money and 1 with mine. He never saw mine. It’s been hard to hide. I keep finding evidence of people going through my room.
The next time they went out, she had lost 20 pounds. She still stashed some cash and jewels on her body but the rest she kept in the large bag that she never left unattended. When they walked it was always slung across her chest. Not only did it have a flap with a clasp but also a zippered inner compartment to make it more difficult for pickpockets. They found another hotel and settled in for the night. This time they went in together.
Frugal Pilgrim 