Veil of Silence (11 page)

Marsha smiled at the query.  Amir was nearly out, just fighting the last vestiges of sleep out of sheer orneriness.  She’d like to think this was because Zabi was his father, but she knew it was probably her own genes that made this endearing little boy so ornery.  He finally closed his eyes as he saw her smile down on him, his own mouth curled into a smile of its own before relaxing into a cherub’s kiss.  Marsha pulled her hand away slowly, cautiously, and saw that he was out.  She looked up at Bahir and smiled at the good little girl who had put on her own buckle, fascinated with the contraption, and who returned the smile and then looked out the window at the activity around the plane.  It was getting dark so the lights were captivating.

Marsha sat back in her chair and fastened her seatbelt as she turned to answer Pete’s question.  “He’s just tired. Aren’t we all?”

He nodded with a slight smile, leaning forward to check on Bahir.  He sat back in time for the stewardess to come forward, checking again for those she’d had to speak to including Marsha and her party.  Her lips pursed in disapproval as she saw that the woman and her children were all buckled in.  She thought to say something about having a baby seat for the toddler, but thought better of pushing it.  They’d already proven confrontational.  She didn’t need that headache on what would be a long flight.

Once they were airborne and the seatbelt light was off, Marsha reclined her chair slightly and encouraged Bahir, her silent little girl, to come and sit with her in her arms.  They snuggled together, enjoying their time together and before either knew it, they had fallen asleep.  It was only as breakfast was being served that Marsha awoke with a jerk.  She was certain someone had bumped into her.  When she looked up and saw the cart and the stewardess, she was positive.  She glared her annoyance at the woman, the chador hiding the rest of her face, but her eyes quite expressive.  Her arm was asleep from where Bahir had lain on it, but using her good arm, she carefully lifted the young girl to place her back in her own seat.  She never woke as Marsha buckled her in.

“Would you like anything?” the stewardess asked now that she saw the woman was awake.

“Maybe later,” Marsha said quietly, staring the woman down.  She was feeling very uneasy, the baby making her nauseous.  She rethought and said, “Um, I’ve changed my mind.  May I have a little 7up please?”

The woman, who had begun to move on sighed loudly and obliged.  She made sure plenty of ice was in the little cup before pouring 7up into it, which meant the passenger got very little of the beverage.  She handed it to the passenger, considering ‘accidentally’ spilling it on the woman and her expensive outfit, and then reconsidered.  Why antagonize her further?

“Thank you,” Marsha said politely as she pulled down the chador to take a drink.  She knew if she were wearing the black chador or her black burqa, she might be expected to drink through the material.  To her that had been ridiculous and one of the many painful lessons she had learned from Zabi and Malekah.  “Could I have the whole can?” she asked to annoy the woman.  She could see that the request, while reasonable, annoyed the woman, but she complied, unwillingly, and then moved on.  Once she finished drinking the entire can, pouring it cautiously, time and time again onto the melting ice, Marsha wiped her mouth carefully and replaced the chador.  She could already feel the bubbles in her queasy stomach and she allowed herself to burp, breathing through each and every one of them so that they wouldn’t be audible to her companions.

The rest of the flight proved uneventful.  They served lunch and both children were awake for that.  Pete or Johann had arranged for a children’s meal for each of the young passengers.  Marsha, seeing the cute little meals specially prepared for the children, was pleased.  Then she wondered what had happened to the children’s meal for breakfast.  She was certain the stewardess would never have mentioned it if Johann hadn’t inquired as they came around for lunch orders.

Both children were doing very well despite the long hours.  After the meal, one by one, Marsha took them to the bathroom.  The tight fit, the newness of the experience of using a toilet again, all made it difficult to keep them clean and still, but Marsha managed.  Both children looked very presentable.  It was just before they were to land that Amir began to act up again, but who could expect a toddler not to run off his exuberance.  The change in cabin pressure seemed to upset his little ears, but a change in seat with Bahir meant he could kneel and look out the window, which distracted him until he had to sit down, buckle in, and prepare to land.  He didn’t like that, but Marsha was firm.

As the plane landed at Chicago’s O’Hare airport, Marsha breathed a sigh of relief.  She didn’t know where they were going from here, but she was on American soil and for this she was eternally grateful.  She sent up a prayer of thanks to whomever was listening.

CHAPTER NINE

They took her quickly through customs.  The paperwork that the two men were carrying ensured that they did not need passports and Marsha idly wondered about that.  The one bag that she carried was all their worldly goods.  Both children were cranky and fretful and she’d had to quiet Amir several times—his temper could be quite fierce.

The children, she knew, were worried that they would be getting on one of those metal tubes again, but she assured them they were not going to.  Since she wasn’t sure where she was going, she couldn’t tell them they were going home.  She followed her guards, knowing that finally she didn’t need them.  She felt happier as they made their way through the long hallways of O’Hare towards whatever destiny awaited her.

Amir squirmed to be let down and walk by himself, but she held firmly to his hand.  His exuberance had him hopping and Bahir imitated him by skipping.  Marsha felt like her arms were being pulled up and down by the children.  Exhausted, but knowing they needed to work off their energy and not willing to let them go, she hung on and put up with the skipping and hopping.

* * * * *

They were standing with the major who had accompanied them from the van that had driven them to the base.  Heather was wearing a nice slacks suit and had dressed Hayley in a dress she saved for special events.  She looked cute with the blue ribbon across her waist and she was swinging the skirt back and forth because it ballooned out when she did that.

“Hayley,” Heather warned her for the umpteenth time and she stopped for a few minutes, before she would forget and begin again.

Heather was nervous too.  The major had been most courteous, but he hadn’t known much more than she had been told.  He had arranged for them to go past security to meet Marsha.  Normally they would have to wait outside, but he had gotten an exemption to this rule.

They waited patiently as they watched various people come and go, and still no Marsha.  The plastic vinyl of the chairs was harsh and felt a bit sticky so they went from sitting to standing as they waited.  There seemed to be a lot of activity, many people coming and going from the walkway just in front of where they were standing.

* * * * *

Watching the people file out of the walkway, Heather was anxious.  Would she recognize Marsha?  Of course she would! She would recognize that woman anywhere!  Had she changed?  After five years of who knew what, of course she would change.  She was anxious.  Her heart beating double time as she examined each and every woman who came down the walkway.

Finally, she noticed a woman with her head bowed.  She was holding the hands of two children, one a toddler who was skipping, the other a little girl who was hopping.  As they came through the doors, the two children stopped their hijinks and looked up and around in awe at this new destination.  One of them asked the woman something and the woman leaned down to answer, slowing those behind her who now had to go around her.  Heather glanced beyond her to see if she could see Marsha coming down the hallway, but the woman, having stopped, was creating a holdup as people had to maneuver around her and her children.  Heather looked anxiously beyond the little group.  As the woman stood up again, Heather gasped, recognizing those eyes.  It was then she began to assess the woman, dressed in a gray…what was it called?  A wrap?  It covered her from head to toe and had lovely little black scrolls and things throughout the design.  A scarf, or something that matched the outfit, was across her face.

When the woman saw Heather, she let go of the little girl’s hand to reach up and release the chador from across her face.  It was then that Heather saw Marsha fully.  She gasped again.  She looked so much…older.  Only her face was visible.  Her eyes were full of almost an agony that Heather could not really fathom.  Marsha pushed back the covering on her head and her black hair was visible.

Others stopped to watch as they saw something dramatic seemed to be going on.  They saw the two women staring at each other.  They exchanged looks.  She’d known that someone would meet them and saw a major standing by discreetly.  He acknowledged the nod she sent him with a nod of his own.

Marsha took in Heather’s lovely face, the one she had dreamed of so often as she lay on her mat in the cave or in the tent.  She looked over every line she could see, noting how much deeper the worry lines were from what she could remember.

Heather couldn’t believe that Marsha was standing before her.  She knew that people had to go around the woman, but she didn’t really see them.  All her focus was now on the woman she had finally resigned herself to accepting might be dead.

“Marsha?”  Heather was the first to speak.

The black-haired woman nodded, almost hesitantly.  Of all the voices she had longed to hear over the years…this one was the most endearing.

Neither one moved.  Neither one knew what to do.

“Moray?” Amir said plaintively, and as Marsha automatically looked down, he held up his arms to be picked up.  This drew attention from Marsha to the children next to her and Heather’s eyes opened wide.

Heather had never expected…children.  She looked at the two children, realizing they had to be Marsha’s.  They looked too much like her not to be.  She glanced down at Hayley and saw her staring at the funnily-dressed woman and the children with her.

With Amir in her arms, she took Bahir’s hand again and led her forward.  Not looking at Heather, she took a deep breath and in English said, “Bahir, Amir, I would like you to meet my wife.  This is Heather.”  She glanced up at Heather to see her reaction, wondering if she was
still
her wife.  Still, she had been getting her paychecks they had said.  She quickly looked back down to Bahir.  The child looked puzzled as she stared at the other woman and the child with her. 

The two girls stared at each other, assessing the possibility of friendship between them.

Heather looked at Marsha.  Her eyes took it all in, but her mind took a moment to really understand the implications.  The introduction took her breath away for a second before, taking a deep breath, she put on a fake smile for the children.  The little girl was already ignoring her and staring intently at Hayley.  The other child in Marsha’s arms was precious.  For a moment, Heather felt a twinge of jealousy.  These weren’t
their
children.  These weren’t the children they had planned together.  Hayley was their child.  It was Hayley they should be focusing on.  She immediately felt ashamed at the thought.  It wasn’t Marsha’s fault, whatever she had gone through.  Heather hadn’t heard her side of the story.

“Hello, Amir,” she didn’t know which child was which, the names didn’t seem gender specific.  “Hello, Bahir.”  Her glance took in both children, but she was really looking at Marsha, taking her in, wondering what had happened to her.

“And this is Hayley,” Marsha introduced her children, her hand tugging slightly to bring Bahir forward to meet her older sister.  The two siblings were still staring intently at each other.

Hayley looked up at her name.  She saw the woman from her photographs, although she looked…different.  The child didn’t realize that the woman in the photograph wouldn’t look the same.  She was older now, had been through too much to remain that same young and carefree woman.  Her clothing alone changed a lot of how she looked.  Shyly, the little girl stepped back and hid behind her mother’s leg.

“Hayley, don’t you want to greet your mom?” Heather protested.

“No…don’t make her,” Marsha excused her.  “Don’t force it.”

The two adults looked hard into each other’s eyes as they came to some agreement without verbalizing it.

“Captain?” a new voice was heard.

Marsha looked over and recognized the major insignia on the uniform.  Briefly, she wondered if she would have ever achieved that rank.  She nodded, unable to salute and not in uniform so she didn’t need to.  “Major.”  The name on his tag read Osborn.

“I’m here to take you and your family home,” he offered generously.  He glanced at her audience again.  “We have a van.”

“Thank you, Major.  That’s most kind.”

“We can talk…tomorrow,” he told her, seeing it would relieve her overtired mind.  It had been quite a trip, he knew.  Judging by the file folder he already had on her, they had a lot of talking to do.

“Thank you,” she said politely.

They all turned to walk away from the building.  Marsha was carrying Amir, her hand in Bahir’s.  Bahir walked beside Hayley who had come out from behind her mother and Heather was on the other side of Hayley, holding her hand and looking at Marsha as they walked.  The major followed behind them, wondering how weird the conversation was going to be in that household this evening.  He could tell by the shock on Heather’s face that she hadn’t known about the children.  He could have told her, but felt it wasn’t his place.  After all, she was a civilian.  Johann and Pete walked behind the family after quietly introducing themselves to the major.  They walked on either side, looking and evaluating any potential threat.  Just because they were on American soil, this was not the time to relax; their duties weren’t complete yet.