KISMET

GENRE:  Romantic Epic, Victorian

RATING: PG – 13

SUMMARY: An English boy rescues a Sudanese girl, beginning a lifelong love.

est. reading time: 35 – 40 minutes

AUSPICIOUS BEGINNINGS
The boy squinted up at the horizon, shimmering in the desert heat. The camels’ heavy packs shifted audibly on their backs. The hunting party’s footsteps were near silent in the soft yellow sand.

Peter hated Africa with every fiber of his being.

***

The Whelan party trekked onward through the desert. The difficult terrain was a shortcut to prime hunting territory. Coleman Whelan had been coming to Africa every other year since his business took off, seeking new and exotic game.

That year, he brought along his only son Peter, despite his wife’s firm protests. At nine years old, she feared the stifling temperatures, illness, and dangerous wilds of Africa would be too much for her frail boy.

“He is too young, Cole…And you see how small he is. He is quite fragile for his age.” She said, shaking her head.

“Which is exactly why he must go. To build up his strength, his fortitude, rather.”

“He’s only nine years old, darling. He has plenty of time to grow.”

“Yes, and next year he will be sent away to Rochester Boarding School. Strangers taking over our parental role. While I still have influence, I shall use it to his best advantage.”

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, knowing his mind was set. She could do no more.

Peter was small for his age. A pale, skinny, curly-headed strawberry blond, like his mother was, when she was a girl. Her hair had since faded to a light golden brown.

He also had the wide curious eyes of his mother, a striking shade of brown. His face was sprinkled with freckles from the hot African sun.

His father, Coleman kept him close, as their guides took them through a slice of the Sahara down into lesser explored depths of the Congo.

Colman was a tall hard-looking man, with stern lines etched into his face by emotion and the sun. His dirty blond hair was close-cropped and his facial hair was kept neatly trimmed, even in this desolate place.

Peter absently dragged a large bleached-white branch he found in the desert behind him, creating a long winding line in the sand. He was dressed in a mini-version of his father’s own hunting gear, an incentive, his father thought, for him to start hunting like a man.

Coleman had taken him on other such trips hunting fox with the hounds, back in England…The boy had cried when he witnessed the dogs tearing apart that tiny red ball of fur.

“-Look! -Boy!” He said wrenching Peter’s hands away from his face…

“Father, I don’t want to…It’s cruel.”

“In maintaining the natural order…Cruelty is a necessity.” He father said, evenly.

“It may seem…unpleasant, right now…But as you grow, you will learn to fire a gun and carry yourself as a man would.”

They trekked along early and late in the day, when the hot sun had a lesser chance of taking one’s life from stroke. Still, some members of the party did succumb to the heat.

One died.

A tall, amiable man named Assyr had been a friend of his father’s from his first hunting trip to Africa, but he still showed little emotion at his passing. Peter, who had been close to him, cried silent tears and wiped his eyes away from his father’s view. He did not want to disappoint him with his weakness.

Every now and then, they would come upon the carcass or bones of some unfortunate creature, quickly being reclaimed by the sands.  All of them, Peter could not help but stare at in pity as they passed. He thought about the harrowing lives these creatures lived before, cut short by chance.

Peter hummed to himself, passing the time imagining himself anywhere but Africa, when his eyes fell on a strange red lump in the sand…

***

He frowned curiously and focused, narrowing his eyes, as the party got closer. It could easily have been a simple mirage even in the early heat of the day.

…But it was not.

“Pick up the pace, men!”

His father yelled, clearly indicating they would not stop for this, but Peter had let himself fall near the rear of the party. He needed to see what it was.

The wide billowy swath of fabric blew in the wind and he thought he heard a small sound coming from it.

He gasped and halted. He glanced around to make sure his father wasn’t watching and quietly slipped from the party.

He crept up along the dunes and heard another sound. This time he could tell what it was, a cough.

As he got within reaching distance of the fabric lump, he squatted low to the sand, squinting in the sun and jumped a little when an edge moved.

Hesitantly, he reached out and lifted it up…

There lay a tiny girl, with skin the color of coffee beans, huge eyes, a shade darker than her own skin and high round cheeks.

She spoke weakly in another language. Her voice was raspy, but it was obvious what she needed…He took off his water bladder, unscrewed the top and tipped it into her mouth…She guzzled a bit too quickly and coughed, even throwing up a little, but she eventually managed to drink it down.

He watched her closely…

He had been in Africa long enough to know her garment was ritualistic in nature. It was white. …or used to be. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl and large tinkling gold earrings, dangled from her earlobes.

Even her hands had some intricate pattern stained on them.

And then he saw behind her…A woman, her mother, it had to be, lay dead in the sand, her eyes wide open in a sightless white stare.

***

Jamiil prepared her daughter, her brow heavy, her mind full. It was tradition that all women undergo the cutting, to be purified and made suitable for marriage. Still, she had dark memories  of her own.

The intense pain, the bleeding for many days…the feeling of blades being slicing in her privates, every time she went to make water…And finally the pain of her husband’s needs.

Jamiil had traveled. Her husband was an important man. She had spoken to other women, who had not had this done. She came to believe the reason she did not feel the pleasure these women had described with their husbands, was because of that painful ritual from her childhood.

Jamiil, twisted her daughter’s soft black curls…

“Bilan…” She said, her hands trembling.

“We must go away.”

“But mommy-“

“Do not argue.” She said, her eyes wide and firm.

“I cannot let this happen to you.”

“But father will be angry.” Bilan whispered.

“Yes…” She said, frowning. “He will.”

“But I must.  How will ever become a woman-?“

Jamiil held up a hand.

“…You must listen to me…It may seem that the women are celebrating, but all that lay beyond  is pain and suffering you will experience for the rest of your days.” She said, her lips trembling.

“I will not allow you to go through that.”

Bilan lowered her heavy-lashes and nodded.

“ I-I saw them bleeding. They were crying from the pain…  I peaked in on the other girls. I’m sorry.” She said lowering her head.

“It’s okay.” She said, hugging her tightly.  “It is good that you saw.”

“You do understand, then?” Her mother said, as she knelt in front of her.

“Yes.” Bilan said, nodding her head.

“Then we will leave right away…I have packed a few things. It will be a dangerous journey, but I must risk it.”

***

He sat with her as she drank, trying to decide what to do. His dad would be angry, but he couldn’t leave her.

He went back and forth in his mind. This was too big a thing for a nine-year old.

She smiled a little and spoke again.  He was certain she said “Thank you.” in her language.

“You’re welcome.” He said sheepishly.

It tore at his conscience, but he finally decided to leave her. He would simply leave his water bladder with her. His father would still be angry that he’d lost it and he might face a lashing, but at least she would have water.

“Here.” He said, pushing it more deeply into her hands.

“Here.” He repeated and began to get up.

She spoke rapidly in her language… “My mother is dead, I have nowhere to go…”

She got up on unsteady feet and immediately fell back down.  She was so small, tiny even compared to him. Short and thin.

He nibbled at his bottom lip…”I’m sorry, I can’t.”…He began to back away

She lowered her face and began to cry.  And like the tears he had shed for Assyr, they were silent.

“Please, don’t cry…I wish I could help, but I can’t.”

He walked away, his own tears beginning to form in his eyes…He wiped them away angrily.

“If only I were tougher, like father.” He thought.

***

The party had gotten much further ahead, but he managed to catch up, without his father noticing.

Lee, however, did. He was one of the younger men in the party and friendly with the boy.

Lee was broad-shouldered young man with pale skin and dark features; brown hair, and eyes, typical of his Irish heritage.

Only twenty-five and fresh from his studies, he had proven himself very useful in accounting at Coleman’s company. In many ways he reminded Cole of himself when he was a young boy. Idealistic, and smart. It was the reason Cole had taken him under his wing.

It had been his third time joining him on his bi-annual hunt.

He peered around at him and sighed, frowning with concern.

“Where have you been?” He asked, whispering fiercely.

“There was a girl laying in the dunes, back there… She needed water. She could die!”

Lee shushed him. And quickly looked around, satisfying himself that Coleman hadn’t heard.

“…And you gave her your bladder.”

Peter nodded his head.

Lee chuffed and sighed. “I will tell Mr. Whelan that you lent it to me. I lost it. Understand?”

He nodded his head, again.

“Don’t tell anyone else about her.”

“Will you help her?” The dread in the boy’s eyes pull at him.

Lee sighed and then lied… “This land is her home. Someone else will find her or she’ll find her way.”

Peter didn’t look convinced. He may have been young, but he was far from stupid.

Again, Lee sighed.

“Just forget her, Peter. We can do nothing.”

Peter stared up at Lee for a long moment and then hung his head. His whole body seemed to deflate. He knew leaving her had meant her she was probably dead.

And it was all his fault.

***

As the Whelan party slowed their trek into the early evening, Peter’s father fell back to check on him.

“How are you doing, boy?”

“I’m fine, dad.”

“I think this African weather is doing you good…” He said ruffling his hair.

Coleman hadn’t noticed his son’s missing bladder.

“I don’t mean to be so hard on you, son…It’s just that, this world is not an easy place to be in. You must be ready to face it’s many challenges. It’s my job to prepare you.”

“And you must be–“ There was a sound on the sand…

Coleman placed a finger to his lips…

He drew his gun and crept around the closest dune. Peter’s stomach was in knots. He kept close behind.

His father pointed at something he saw laying in the sand.

…A small brown thing.

***

As he got closer, he realized what it was. It was his son’s water bladder laying in the sand.

He sighed deeply and picked it up.

“Peter!” He said sharply. “I told you to hold on to this! Water is not easy to come by here. You know that.”

“I’m sorry, dad.”  He braced himself for a hit, but Lee stayed his hand.

“I lost it…” Lee said, as he walked up.

“He loaned it to me earlier today. after mine ran out. I dropped it.”

“-Some animal must’ve dragged it around.” He said, looking pointedly at Peter.

Coleman exhaled briskly and strode back to the front of the party.

Lee leaned down to whisper to Peter. “She followed you.”

Peter made to reply…but Lee quickly stopped him.

“Shhh!!”

Lee looked around a bit, considering.

“-Look, we may be able to help, but we’ve got to wait until everyone is asleep…Can you do that?”

“Yes.” He said vigorously nodding head, his eyes a bit brighter. If he could help her, he wouldn’t have to keep seeing himself as her murderer.

***

Everyone had been sleeping soundly for about three hours, except Lee.
Peter had just fallen asleep, himself, when Lee gently shook him.

“Peter.” He said in hushed tones. “Come on.”

They crept silently away from camp and over the dune where his father had found his bladder.

“She knows you…She may show herself, if she sees you.”

Lee pushed him forward, into the moonlight.

He stepped gingerly and looked around. “Hello?” He whispered as quietly as he could.

“It’s me…I won’t hurt you.”

Bilan watched from her hiding place…Afraid, of the tall strange white man, but also knowing she had no choice, but to show herself. The boy who had helped earlier, was calling to her. She was starving. She would die if she didn’t get help.

She arose from her hiding place on wobbly legs, her chapped lips almost cracking into a smile, before Lee grabbed her.  He covered her mouth, while she struggled, kicking and screaming surprisingly hard for a half-starved girl.

“Shhh!”  He urged.

“I’m sorry…We’re going to help you, I promise.” Peter said. Though he didn’t look so sure, himself.

Bilan was frightened, but she quieted.

Lee, slowly removed his hand from her mouth.

“shhhh…” He mimed, once more.

She stood for just few more seconds, before she swayed on her feet and passed out.

“Probably, just as well…” Lee said picking her back up.

Quietly as he could, he slipped her between two packs, under a tarp loaded on a camel. There he put some food and a small canteen of water.

“There…”  He said. “Now if she wakes and makes a lot of noise, they’ll just assume she’s a stow-away.”

“They won’t hurt her or leave her out here, will they?” Peter asked concerned.

Lee sighed. “I don’t know.”

Peter’s father had been awake and watching this scene, the entire time.

***

The next morning as they began their trek, Peter’s father was uncharacteristically quiet.

Peter noticed.

“I -I really am starting to like Africa, dad.”

“Are you?”

Peter nodded.

“It’s hot but, the dunes are nice.”

“I thought you were tired of these dunes…You said, they all looked the same.”

“I think they’re like clouds. You see what you want in them.”

Cole, took his son by his shoulder and squeezed briskly, but still he frowned.

He had recognized the girl’s garments.

***

Bilan was only eight-years old, but  no dummy. When she awoke to the rocking of the camel, she kept very still. She quickly noticed the water and food, tucked nearby.

She nibbled on the dried meat and bread and sipped water from the small canteen. There she lay with her head down and wondered what she would do, where she would go from here. What these strange white men would do to her, if the others found her. They seemed to want to help, but she had been taught white foreigners were big trouble.

Bilan thought about her mother, dead on that dune and she realized,  she was all alone in the world. She was too dehydrated to cry about it. She had three brothers, all older, all disdainful of their tiny female sibling. Her days were often comprised of sneaking out, trying to keep up with them on their adventures, only to be pushed down or knocked away when they discovered her.

“Go home, Bilan! You are too young!!” They would say.

“But I wish to see what you are doing…”

Usually, they would push and shove at one another or jump and play running games. It didn’t appear to be that interesting, but she just wanted the company of her brothers. Really, she wanted to just be a little girl.

Because of her status, she didn’t have any contact with the other girls in the village, lest they influence her into lesser habits. It was just her, her mother, and her many grown attendants.

Her life was consumed with learning protocol.

***

Peter purposely fell behind, again…He walked just far enough behind the camel that carried Bilan to get a look under the tarp. He craned his neck as if it were just a little stiff and he was just stretching…and he managed to see. There she lay, her dusty chin on her folded hands, peeking out at him.

He smiled a bit and she smiled back.

***

Peter himself had a lonely childhood. He kept to himself in school. Because of his smallness, and penchant for dreaming, he was a target of bullies.

Afternoons often found him out in the woods behind his home, pretending there were elves, fairies, and goblins back there and he had to rescue a stranded princess.

His father tried hard to bring him out of his shell to make friends with other children, but his mother always argued.

“I tell you it’s not healthy, isolating himself like this…Why not play with other kids? Why not  show an interest even in huntin-”

“-He’s a boy Cole…Let him be a boy.” She implored.

“Did you not play fanciful games when you were a boy?”

“No.” Coleman said. “I was occupied with the difficult work of keeping our family’s farm running.”

Gemma shook her head.

“We have no farm here!” She said turning away, frustrated.

“Cole, my love… You have acquired much wealth. You have purchased a life of leisure for your family. Please, allow your son to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“I refuse to spoil him. He will earn his keep as I did. There’s no use having all of this if I have a son too weak to hold on to it after I’m gone.”

As usual, Peter sat at the top of the winding staircase, an arm dangling down between the bars holding up the banister, listening.

***

Coleman noticed his son walking back behind the camel, interacting with the other child.

An African girl, sure, but perhaps…He would take this willingness to at least try…Back home with him to England.

An idea was forming in his mind.

He fell back to Lee.

“Lee, I know there’s a girl under that tarp.”

Lee started. “Listen, sir-“

“-Don’t worry…” He said, cutting him off with a raised hand. “She’s safe.”

“Do you see my boy back there?”

Lee glanced back to where Peter was now feigning petting the camel, while touching her outstretched finger-tips.

“Yes.”

“He doesn’t have any friends at home in Abersham.” He said, frowning.

“He spends all of his time in his head.”

“It’s good to see him, coming out of it.” Coleman said, pointedly

Lee’s eyes widened. He was genuinely shocked.

“When we break again…You can take her off of the camel’s back.  She can join us at  lunch.”

Lee tipped his head. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll talk to my boy.”

***

“Peter!” Peter jumped. His father’s voice breaking his thoughts. He had been wondering how long it had taken to make the patterned swirls on her hands.

“Yes, father!” He said, running up.

“I wish to speak with you for a moment.”

Coleman grabbed his son’s shoulders and knelt down in front of him.

“Peter, I know there’s a girl under that tarp.”

Peter’s eyes went wide.

“Don’t worry…She’s safe.  I’ve decided she is to stay with us.”

The boy let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“-Where did you find her?”

“Back there on the dunes, yesterday.. A woman was dead beside her. Her mother, I think.  And she was starving. I -I gave her my water bladder.”

“Of course, you did.” He said, actually cracking a small smile.

Coleman took a deep breath… “That girl back there, is running from a horribly barbaric practice. Torture, really.  I’m not sure what we will do with her, but she can never return home.”

Coleman had memories of an early hunting trip on his own. He had an encounter with one of the local women and was shocked at the mutilation.

“Can you look after her?”

A younger brother or sister would have done Peter some good, Cole thought.  Sadly, Gemma had massive complications from having him. The doctor said another child would probably kill her.

“An even smaller child for my son to look after? This was just what he needs to make him feel more capable.” Coleman thought.

“Yes, father. I can look after her.” Peter said, smiling.

“Good.” He replied rubbing his hair.

***

After they stopped,  Lee opened the tarp and picked up a very frightened, fiercely struggling Bilan…

Many of the party members gasped when they saw her. Not only a girl, but an [i]unclean[/I] girl judging from her garb and markings, and a member of an important family.

They whispered harshly amongst themselves.

“QUIET!” Coleman yelled and they all immediately silenced.

Lee gently set her down and she immediately scrambled behind Peter.

“This child is traveling with us, under our protection, until we can find a safe place to drop her off.”

“If you please…” Nadir, a young man with tribal markings on his face, spoke up.

“Mr. Coleman, sir…She is unclean. And look at  the markings on her hands. She would fetch much to return to her family. They are wealthy Cushites.”

“Yes, but I know what it is you people do…”  He said harshly. “Cutting on your women.”

Nadir clenched his jaw. Cole, was talking down to the men he needed so much, yet again.

“No one, here will lift a finger against her…AM I CLEAR?!”

The men’s silence was taken as an affirmation.

“Anyone found to, will be shot.” He said, gripping his gun for emphasis.

***

Bilan sat well away from the rest of the men.  They kept giving her foul looks.

Peter sat next to her, taking his role, very seriously. “Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you. They all listen to father.”

Bilan wished she could understand what the boy was saying.

“-Wait, I’ll get you some food.”

Peter scrambled to his feet and ran to the fireside. He dipped a cup from the warm meaty stew, simmering over the fire.

He brought it back and carefully set it down next to her…

As hungry as she was, she quickly reached for it.

“NO!” He said snatching it back up… “It’s still too hot…See?”

He said, waving a hand over the wafting steam.  She let it be.

“Bilan.” She said, placing her hand on her chest.

Peter frowned.

She sighed in frustration and picked up his hands, placing them both on her chest.

“Bilan” She repeated, with more emphasis.

“OH!” He said excitedly, understanding. “Bee-lahn! Bee-lahn’s your name!.” He said nodding his head.

She smiled triumphantly.

He drew her hands back to his chest. “I’m Peter.”

“I’m Pee-the.” She repeated.

He laughed. “No.”

“PEE- ter.”

“Pee- -tah.” She repeated, smiling again.

“Good.” He said. “That’s close enough.”

He picked up her stew and blew on it, gently.  He handed it to her and she began to sip.

“I bet you’re a princess…” He said quietly as he watched her drink.

“And I’ve rescued you, from a horrible fate.” He said puffing out his chest a bit with a grin.

Bilan did not understand what he was saying, but she smiled nonetheless, the food was very good to her empty belly.

This was like a dream for him, his games materializing into reality. Faraway places, with exotic creatures, protecting the princess from the dragon. It was more than he had hoped for.

And truthfully, his wistful assertions weren’t that far off.

***

Peter was far too preoccupied with Bilan to concern himself with sulking about the hunt. Just as his father had planned.

His days were spent holding Bilan’s hand so she didn’t fall behind.  He also put great effort into learning to communicate with her. A lot of charades was played. It was slow going, but such are the minds of children, they both picked up the basics of their languages relatively quickly.

When they finally crossed into the Congo, the wide open plains were perfect for hunting zebra, lions, and gazelle, the creatures, most coveted by Coleman.

Coleman, Peter, and a few select members of the party separated to go off on the hunt

Coleman decided it would be safer to bring the girl along, to keep his son’s mind distracted and to keep her safe from any less-than-loyal men who would seek money, on her behalf.

She kept out of the way, seeming to know the importance of silence and observation.

Peter explained as best as he could, that they would be hunting. She understood, shaking her head, excited that she was tagging along. She grinned broadly. Women of her people were not allowed to go on hunts.

She kept very still and watched.

Peter had no desire to look bad in front of her, so when the gazelle came into his view…

“Steady…Steady…” His father said quietly. “Now!”

He fired a single shot banging his shoulder, painfully with the butt of the rifle, in the process.

A gazelle limped around for a bit and then, tipped over…

Peter dreaded this, though Bilan seemed excited enough. As he got up, rubbing his sore shoulder and looking stricken, she jumped into his arms and gave him a big hug.

“Good kill.” She said in her language.

Peter turned red.

Coleman smiled. His plan was working better than he thought. No matter the age, every male does his best around a female.

When they got close to the animal, Peter frowned and stopped.

Bilan took his hand and drew him to it.

“It’s okay.” she said. “Everything dies.”

At least that’s what he thought she said. He knew she was trying to be comforting, but the idea that he had taken a life, still made him ill.

She could see that he was upset.

“It hurts you..” She said.

He looked away embarrassed.

“I understand. I feel the same, when my people…hunt. But our people need them.” She said gesturing at the carcass.

“God sends them to us so we may eat, to build, to…make things…”

She said. “It’s okay.” …and took his hand. “She is not hurting anymore.”

2

***

When they got back to camp, Bilan watched as they drained the animal’s blood and skinned it.

This, she had seen done before. She had snuck into the kitchens before.

“I’m proud of you.”  Coleman said, clapping his son hard on the back.

Peter smiled up at his dad, nervously. He was unused to this kind of open praise.

Coleman gave Bilan one of Peter’s spare hunting jumpers to wear. It fit so loosely, she had to tie the belt, to keep from tripping over the cuffs.

They stayed in Africa for few weeks more, before it was time to head back to the coast and the ship, that had brought them there.

Lee and Coleman sat at low burning fire, at dusk, watching the children play with each other.

Nadir was the highest ranking man among the workers native to the land. A Berber, with skin that almost matched the deep indigo stained clothes he wore.

It was he who had not liked the presence of the young girl, and spoken up about it. And it was he who most understood, the true consequences of taking her.

So, he chanced a conversation on the subject.  “Sir.” He said as sipped his coffee.

“We are close to your ship. What is it you plan on doing with the girl, once we get to the coast?”

Lee turned to looked at Coleman as if to assert the same question.

Coleman took his time, and drank a few drafts of coffee, his spiked with vodka.

“I have not decided, yet..” He said as he watched his son laughing with her.

“-Sir?” Lee said, looking incredulous.

“What do you mean, you haven’t decided…Of course, she is to come with us.”

“Since when do you make the decisions, boy?”

He had only just raised his voice, but Lee had withered some.

But he refused to back down. He knew his boss’s pattern. Often feigning softness until it was time to make a decision, at which time he could be quite unsympathetic.

“You must bring her along, sir. You know what is to happen to her.” He said, looking pointedly at Nadir.

“She will be returned to her village, once you are gone. -And what about Peter?”

“-He will adjust.” He said. “And besides, I may take her along…I need to think on it.”

He got up from the fireside and paced away from camp, leaving Nadir and Lee to grit their teeth at one another.

This had been on his mind for some time and in fact, he really was considering taking her onboard with him. She had grown on him. His wife would likely be taken with her, as well.

…But she was a black African.  He did not think she belonged in England, despite the presence of many other blacks there.

The native English blacks could carve out a living, often doing manual labor, and the girl had proven tough. But something else did concern him, nagging the very back of his mind.

She was a pretty girl. His son seemed to have a developed warm feelings for her. It would likely fade, as childish things do, but it also might not.

He had enough foresight to know, she would not stay a child forever.

***

The sounds of the coast washed over them. They were close to the ship.

All signs of Bilan’s station were now gone. Lee, himself had taken the many pieces of gold she wore and hidden them. The kohl was gone, the henna designs on her hands were gone, but for her features, which betrayed her heritage, she looked like a stray who had managed to barter for clothing from the white men.

Once at the village, they had passed her off as Nadir’s daughter. Nadir was a lone wolf, but they’d said, his wife had died with no family to take the child in.

Nadir stuck to the line for his boss’s sake, but he was looking for any chance, any sign that Coleman might be leaning towards leaving the girl in Africa.

Villagers teemed around the coastline selling all matter of wares, from ripe fruits to colorful carpets, and of course, all kinds of foods.

The air was filled with the aroma of exotic spices, the various musks of the people and cooking food.

Bilan eagerly dragged Peter along the narrow paths, with Lee close behind describing the wares she knew.

Once they got close to several venders cooking food, Bilan stopped. She had not liked the western foods the men constantly ate.

She looked up at Lee wide-eyed, and then at a particularly appetizing looking feast one of the vendor was cooking, It smelled of peanuts, spices, goat meat, and cous-cous.

The woman stirring the pot narrowed her eyes curiously, at Bilan.

Lee laughed and tossed her a coin.  The women dipped out several generous helpings of the food and got a closer look at her.

“Here child.” She said in the local tongue.

The woman lifted up a fresh bowl of water from behind her curtains and offered it to Bilan.  It was then, that she was certain of what kind of child she was.

The girl made a simple gesture, as if miming to wash her face and then dipped both hands into the bowl.  She urged Peter to do so as well.

That done she dipped her hand into the food and ate, savoring the food.

She then offered it to Peter who carefully did the same. His eyebrows raised as if pleasantly surprised by the distinctive, but delicious flavor.

“It’s good Lee. You should try it.” Peter said.

He held up a hand… “I prefer good old English food.”

Bilan and Peter in turn, thanked the woman, who tipped her head politely and watched them go with a frown.

***

This was to be their last day in Africa. It had been weeks of trekking on the plains and desert, with an infrequent stop in a village, and Coleman still had yet tot make a decision.

They stayed in a square house, similar to the adobe ones in the American west. People chattered loudly in their languages and rich colorful fabrics flowed from the windows. Beige-skinned to black, the people intermingled here.

Peter and Bilan sat across from one another under a shaded tree playing mancala, while Lee and Coleman standing about, fifty yards away, checked and rechecked the things they would bring back.

“2 kiloliters of fresh water…1 kilogram of salted fish….”

Lee chanced the subject of the child, again.

While Coleman counted, he opened a small drawstring bag. Inside, were the pieces of gold jewelry Bilan had worn.

“We can trade these for what she needs for passage.” He said.

“Of course, you had them.” He said, unsurprised.

“Why are you set to bring her along, anyway?”

“She’s a child, sir. They are children.” He said, gesturing their way.

He stepped forward. “You cannot do this to them.”

“There you go giving orders, again.-“

Heavy silence  hung between them, as Lee simply waited for more. Coleman took his time.

And then, he took the gold from Lee’s hands, sighing as he thumbed through them.

He then nodded.  “-I suppose, it is enough.”

Meanwhile, the woman who had sold them their meal, was speaking to Nadir.

***

They were on their third game, Bilan had won one Peter the other.

“Do you think your father will leave me here?”  Bilan said, in heavily accented English.

“No.” Peter hadn’t allowed himself to even think of this possibility. “He won’t.”

“Bilan, you’re my only friend. Even my father..  -I don’t think he would.”

He said, sighing.  The possibility was becoming more likely.

Bilan sat still, and continued to absently move the small pebbles, shaking her head.

“At home.” He began. “It hasn’t been easy for me. Father expects so much of me and-“

“You don’t know the children in your,-“ She hesitated. “ -village?” She saidm remembering he had mentioned being lonely before.

“No. I do know them, enough to know  the only purpose they see for me is as a punching bag.”

“-Punching bag?” She asked.

“They like to hit me.”

“Oh.” She said, staring intently at the game. “Have you tried hitting back?”

He gave her quizzical look.  “Yes. Bilan, but I’m not the biggest. …And anyway, it’s always loads of other kids.  It wouldn’t make much of difference, even if I was bigger.”

He sighed. “I bet the other kids leave you alone…Scrape and bow at your feet.” He said, spreading a handful of pebbles along several tiny holes..

She looked up at him. “-I don’t know any other kids. Well, besides my brothers and them, not much. I’m not allowed to play with other children.” She said, quieting him.

“What did you do?”

“Stay with my mother and teachers, learn how to be a woman.”

“Wow.” He said, the mysteries of women still strange to his childlike sensibilities.

“What did you learn?”

“How to eat, drink, meet people. Everything I should know to be,-“ She struggled.

“-Right? Right for when I marry.”

Peter took that in.

“Do you know who that is? Who you’ll marry, I mean.”

“Yes. -A friend of my father’s. It would have been after, -after I was made ready.”

He didn’t hear this last, just the part about marriage.

“Bilan. If you could.” He fiddled with his hair nervously, struggling with his words.

“ -Would you marry me? When you’re older, I mean.”

She frowned. “-But you are just a boy..”

“Well, you’re a girl. When was your family planning and marrying youto this man?” he asked frowning.

“I told you, after I was to be made ready.  But, mother wouldn’t allow it. It is why we ran.”

“So, then now you don’t have to.”

“But it’s different.-I am to marry a man who can provide for me. Give to my family, for me.”

“I could do that, …When I’m older.”

“…I mean, you like me, right?”

“Of course, Peter.” She said, her whole face lighting up in a white-toothed grin.

“Well, I like you too, a lot. You’re the only other kid I’ve ever liked.”

Bilan sat still for a moment and then reached out her hand, when he took it she leaned in and planted a quick peck on his flushed cheek.

“Maybe one day.” She said.

“I think, I would like it if it were you.”

She returned to playing mancala.

***

“She is Hamir’s daughter…I know it.” The woman said.

“I have been to her country many times. I have sold my wares to her mother. I am certain of it. She would fetch a fortune.”

She whispered fiercely to Nadir, who scratched his cheek in thought.  They were leaving that afternoon.

If he was to make a move, he would have to do so, quickly.

***

The ship was immense to Bilan’s eyes. Several passengers were boarding.

Many white, a few Indian and Arab, some black. Peter, as usual was holding her hand so she did not get lost in the bustle of people.

Coleman was barking orders at the men loading their cargo. Lee’s attention was divided, between keeping an eye on the kids and watching the goings on around the ship.  He still did not trust Nadir.

He was right to fear.

Bilan trailed behind Peter, his hand gripping her own. He was leading her through the crowd, which was becoming crushing.

“Slow down. I can’t, -I can’t keep up.” She said.

And then she wasn’t there. She’d simply slipped through his fingers. He heard a small gasping scream and she was gone.

Peter stopped and looked around, panicked.

“Lee! Somebody took Bilan!”

The crowd was so dense, she could not be spotted.

“Stay close to me.” Lee said, cursing himself for not keep closer watch.

“What about father? He can help-“ Peter said, looking around wildly. The crowd pushed past him, almost drawing him away, as well.

“He’s focused on making sure all of the cargo is loaded on the ship. He will not be able to help us, Peter.”

“But, Bilan-“

“-Just stay close. If we can get to edge of the crowds, at least on slightly higher ground, perhaps I can spot her.”

***

Nadir covered her mouth, but Bilan flailed wildly and screamed into his palm.

“Hush! Child! Or I will have to quiet you.” Nadir said, in his language.

Bilan responded by biting his palm.

Nadir roared. Both Peter and Lee heard it, and they scrambled through the crowds in the direction it came from.

Nadir panicked. Cursing, he squeezed her arms and began to shake her. “Stupid girl!”

Lee, shouted “There!”

The unusual motion had inadvertantly drawn Nadir’s attention.

Nadir quickly turned in another direction, but it was like going against the flow of a great river, even in the ebbing crowd,

And the girl continued to struggle, making it all the more difficult.

“Shooosh!” He said, squeezing the breath out of her.

He had almost reached the edge of the crowd, when he heard a click. He felt what seemed like a stick poking him in his hip…

He knew it was no stick.

“Nadir. I was certain I had ordered you to not take the girl…”

“Mr. Whelan, sir.” He said quaking. He knew man never drew his gun idly and he had no problem killing a man.

“Put her down.”

He did this quickly, almost making the girl fall. And raised his hands.

“Sir. I-“ He didn’t get to finish, Whelan had shot him in the hip.

“IIIEEEH!!” He screamed and fell.

Whelan reholstered his gun.

The crowd scattered. Loud peeling screams came from a few, who had witnessed this.

Colman picked up the girl, as the panicked crowd passed them by. Nadir lay on the sandy beach writhing in agony.

Whelan might have finished him, but for his disgust and impatience to get on to his ship. He hadn’t the stomach for killing unneccessarily that day.

The girl wrapped her thin arms around Cole’s neck and hung to him for dear life. He cursed himself for allowing himself to grow so attached.

“Come along.” Cole said to Peter. And turned to the ship.

****

The ship-ride had been treacherous and horrible for most, but a fun game for the kids. She explored, idly hanging from ropes and bars that could be in the wrong circumstances, quite dangerous to them.

Many of the pasengers were sick, while Peter and Bilan saw the boat as one neverending playrgound ride. The often played pirate games.

“-Avast! Me Matey!!”

After a three week journey, they reached English shores. And Bilan took her first steps into the cool unfamiliar land.  It was crowded and it stank. But the clothing, so unlike that which she had seen in her homeland, intrigued her.

Peter was as eager to show her the finery here as she had been to show him the wares in the African coastal  market.

“This is called glass!” He said, indicating a wide pane on the front of a shop. Within hung a dress which would cover it’s wearer from head to toe, as she noticed many of the women here were.

Bilan, herself, still wore hunting clothes far too big for her. Beyond her color, she felt conspicious for that as well.  Though, she had spotted some brown people here, they were dressed in the same  manner as everyone else.  She had not expected them to be so different.

The women wore tight waisted  dresses with large amounts of fabric piled high on their butts.  She found this very strange indeed. Did they need to pad the butts here for lack of having their own?

When Coleman finally arrived at his estate, he could not wait to see his beloved Gemma. She was sitting in the parlor, knitting lace, when Cole came in with Lee, Peter, and Bilan in tow.

“Cole! Darling!!” She yelled and bound into his arms.

“I’ve missed you mi’love.” Cole said quietly into her ear.

After holding one another’s embrace for a time, she turned to her boy…

“Peter! You’ve grown!” She said and hugged him even tighter.

“You see? He is returned to you, perfectly intact.”  Cole said.

Gemma regarded him with an upturned eyebrow.

Bilan shyly appeared from behind Coleman. And he cleared his throat, looking slightly embarassed.

“This is Bilan…” He said. “An African girl, we have…uh, decided to bring along.”

“Oh.” She said, her eyes widening. “My what a lovely child.” She said, her maternal instinct immediately kicking in.

“Bilan, you say?”

“She’s my best friend, mum!” Peter said, beaming.

She slowly walked over, the whites of her eyes so wide and clear in the low light of their home.

Bilan took Peter’s hand, who brought her the rest of the way over to his mother.

“Does she speak English?” She said to no one in particular.

Peter bobbed his head. “I taught her.”

“Well, hello there Bilan. I’m Gemma Whelan. You may call me Ms. Gemma.”

“He-llo, Ms. Gemma.”

“OH! She’s darling…” She said, and swept her up into a hug.

She picked her up and lay the child’s head on her shoulder. “Are we to adopt her, then?”

“Well, with Peter going away to boarding school, I imagine the house will be in need of a child’s laughter.” He said.

Gemma raised both eyebrows, stunned by the change in her husband.

“And when did you become oft-hearted? And in such a harsh climate…” She said as she rubbed the girl’s back. She was already falling asleep.

“She is a charming girl. And she lost her family. We had no choice, really…”

“I rescued her!” Peter said, jumping up.

“Oh, did you darling?” Gemma said laughing, a musical sound echoing in the vastness of their home.

“So, your father is claiming credit for your deeds…Well.” She said, smiling “Even that is a wonder.”

“Patricia?”

A well-dressed maid appeared. She was a plain middle-aged woman with short blond hair and a straight but short figure.

“Yes’m’m”

“I’ll need some proper clothing for this child….And please draw a bath.”

~ by Raven White on December 26, 2008.