18 hrs later… 6:20Am local time I have know clue what day it
is. The plane lands, I look out the
window off in the distance I see what must be the Casablanca Casablanca
“Say hello”
“Tell him Salam”
“Shake his hand”
“Kiss him”
“Hug him”
“How are you going to greet him?”
“The camera adds ten lbs so maybe he won’t look the same”
“How will you know who he is?”
I can honestly say I do not remember ever getting off that
bus the next thing I remember is an old breaded man yelling at me “pass port,
pass port” I had him my papers he stamps it and points to a sign that say’s
Baggage with a white arrow pointing down the hall. I see the old woman from my plane so I follow
her. we stop at what I guess to be a
baggage belt. I look every were for
Issam, no sign of him. I try to
remember how to breathe. The room was silent
or maybe my head was just drowning everything thing else out, just as I take my
first deep breath I jump ten feet in the air thinking that the air port must be
under attack. It was only the so called baggage belt starting up. I think my bag was one of the first to come off
I noticed that the wheel was broken and it looked as if the handle may be
too. I pulled it as hard as I could, it
knocked me back agents the cold wall. I
look around again no sign of Issam. I
pray he will come soon. Were could he be
I thought. I watched as all the other
passengers gathered their bags and made their way all leaving in different
directions. Still no Issam!!!!!! Every man I saw from a distance I pray is him
and that he will recognize me. My
thoughts turn from our greeting to more thoughts of shear tare.
“What am I going to do if he doesn’t show?”
“What is going to happen to me?”
“Oh-My GOD I am in Africa !!”
“I am going to become an American sex slave”
“BREATH”
I can feel my face on fire everything beings to become
blurry from the tears whaling in my eye’s.
There are only a few people left in the room and still nothing no one
even giving me a second look.
The tears begin to fall down my check. My face falls into my hands the only thing
holding me up is my large luggage propped up agents the wall. A small quite female voice says “hello” I try
to look up but can’t seem to pull my hands from my face.
“You OK?” I shake my head no.
“Someone with
you?”
I see a silhouette of a veiled woman from between my fingers
as my hands slid off my face.
“Hhheeehhee nooott
heeerreee hhhheee leeeeffffttttt meeee”
I have no idea other
then to say it is an unspoken understanding between women that she was able to
know just what I was saying. I see her
smile trying to hold back laughter.
Anger must have come over my face as she quickly said in her broken
English.
“I sorry but you have someone pick you up you go through
security first.”
I look at her for the
first time she is a very beautiful younger looking woman dresses in full
Islamic attire, as she points to a man
standing at a door way with the biggest riffle I have ever seen strapped to his
back. She puts her arm around me and
says
“Come let’s see, we
can find you friend in there”
I gather my stuff up. Knowing exactly what I was thinking she stops
at a small bath room first. I wash my
face and try my best to only look tired and not like a fool. She smiles and says “Is ok you have beautiful
smile”
We walk together my heart begins to beat again. Security checks the bags and sends us through
to what now looks more like and Air port.
I look around there are a few men sitting at a small coffee shop in the
corner we walk over but no one looks even close to Issam. She asks
“You see him”
Again I can only shake my head “No”. She squeezes my hand
and say’s
“Is ok no worry
ok? You have phone number for you
friend?”
I hand her a stake
of papers that has everything from Issam’s address down to his blood type and
family history. She laughs
“You are ready. good” I try to smile
“You have money?”
“Only American” I
say.
“Ok you go there and
ask for little exchange”
She points to what
looks like to be a ticket both. I leave
my bags with my new best friend!!!! I
hand the man behind the counter a 10.00 bill he hands me back a hand full of
bills and a few coins.
She yells to him something in Arabic. He takes back a few of the bills he just
handed me and now gives me a hand full of coins.
“Shukran” I tell him.
I turn back to my new
found savior; she is holding a pay phone and Issam’s information papers. I hand her the money she drops the coins in
and begins to dial.
“Aslam A lakum” It’s
Issam’s voice I can tell.
She begins speaking
very fast maybe even yelling a little bit.
A smile over comes me and begins to calm me down.
“Good” I think to my self he deserves to be yelled at. Just as I think she is going to hand me the
phone she hangs up. The bus load of fear
it’s me again.
“ No, I wish you
could stay” I say
“Not worry he sounds
very sorry and honest he is good man no?”
I hope so I think as
I nod my head yes.
“I put my number on
the paper for you, you have any problem you call me ok”
“Yes thank you so much.”
And without even exchanging names, only a small hug and a
very big smile she was gone. I looked
down at the paper and saw her number but still no name. As I
watched each passing man, I see one man coming towards me he looks young enough
he’s good looking maybe this could be him.
But without even a glance he passes me by and walks out the sliding door
and into a taxi.
Now this is the part of the story that me and Issam will
never agree upon. He says he arrived at
the air port not later then 7:30Am the exact time that my plane was scheduled
to arrive. Meaning that my whole ordeal was less then an hour long. I on the other hand am sure it was more like several
hours later.
I see a man turn the corner, running as if he will miss his
flight. I smile I know it is Issam. Just as I stand up he pulls me into his arm
holds me as tight as he can yet so gentle.
Smelling my hair he repeatingly says “I am sorry I am so so sorry”. I melt… It is over I am safe!!
He pulls back to see my face “Oh-my god you have been
crying, I am so sorry, please forgive me and show me your beautiful smile” I kiss him and every fear I have ever had in
my entire life seems to vanish.
“Should we go?” I
asked waiting to get out of the air port and move on from the whole morning
events.
“You must call you
father first. He be very worried I know”
I smile I love the
way he always is putting family first.
“Please not tell him
I late ok?” He says with the most
childlike grin as his pulls a pre-paid phone card from his pocket.
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