Blue (9 page)

“Where the hell are you?” she asked, sounding worried.

“In Afghanistan. You know where I am. We don't have e-mail from the camp. This is the first time I've come to town since I got here, and I probably won't come in again. What's up with Dad?” She was terrified to hear that he had died.

“Actually, he's better. They're trying a new medication, and it seems to work. He's a little clearer, in the mornings at least. He's always a mess at night. But we're giving him a sleeping pill now, so I'm not as worried about his getting up at night and wandering out of the house while we're asleep.” Her fear of that had kept her awake at night for months.

“Well, that's a relief.” Ginny had been panicked for a minute but felt better when she heard what Becky said.

“I wish to hell you'd come back and lead a more reasonable life. This is just too crazy, especially now with Dad. I have no way to reach you if he gets really bad, or if he dies.”

“You have my emergency contact number at the local Red Cross. I gave it to you before I left,” she reminded her. “If it's an emergency, they'll send someone to the camp to find me. Otherwise, I'll be home in six weeks.”

“You can't keep doing this, Ginny. You're thirty-six years old. You're not some kid in the Peace Corps with no responsibilities, and I can't make all the decisions all the time. You need to be part of this, too.”

“I told you, I'll come to L.A. when I get back.”

“You've been saying that for almost three years.”

Ginny didn't tell her sister that she was a lot more useful here than she would have been in L.A. And she felt as though this was where she was meant to be for now.

“I can't stay on long. This is the local Red Cross phone. Give Dad a kiss from me.”

“Take care of yourself, Gin. Do us all a favor, don't get shot or killed.”

“I'll try not to. You're a lot more likely to get shot in L.A. than I am here. It's been peaceful at the camp.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Ginny answered, although her sister drove her insane sometimes, and she couldn't imagine herself leading a life like Becky's, or even the one she'd had, ever again. That meant married, with kids, and living in Pasadena. Before, when Ginny had been married to Mark, Becky had thought their life was superficial and too glitzy. Now she thought her sister was insane. Their lives had never run parallel or been the same, or even remotely similar, and Becky had never approved of what she did. Knowing that took some of the sting out of what she said. But in Ginny's mind, Becky was always the disapproving older sister, and had been since they were children.

After she made the call, Ginny printed out the incoming messages for Rupert, and went to find the others, finishing lunch at a restaurant nearby. The food looked and smelled awful, and she was glad she had skipped lunch to do her e-mails instead from the Red Cross office.

“What did you guys have? The typhoid special?” Ginny wrinkled her nose and made a face at whatever they were eating. She had a cup of tea with them at the end of the meal, and they walked around town for a while, then got back in the truck for the drive back to camp.

She brought Rupert his messages, and they sat and chatted for a while. It was still cold, and freezing at night, as it had been since she arrived. It was still winter there in early March. She and Rupert talked about some of the medical problems they'd been dealing with, and he said that they'd be going back up into the mountains in a few days. He asked her to come with him, as he liked the way she handled the locals, and she was especially good with the children. She had a warm, gentle way with them.

“You should have some of your own one of these days,” he said with a warm smile. He was married but was known to be something of a womanizer, with a wife in England he hardly ever saw. He knew nothing of Ginny's history and was startled by the frozen look on her face in response to his comment.

“I…actually I did have a little boy,” she said, hesitating. “He died in an accident with my husband.”
Which was my fault,
she thought, but didn't say.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, looking mortified. “Stupid thing for me to say. I had no idea. I thought you were one of those American single women, who put off marriage and having children until they're forty. There seem to be a lot of them these days.”

“It's all right.” She smiled pleasantly at him. The words were always hard to say, and she hated how pathetic they made her sound, and the implication of tragedy that went with them. But it seemed wrong not to acknowledge Mark and Chris's existence. It reminded both her and Rupert of how little they all knew of each other or what had led them to this kind of work. In his case, he had dropped out of medical school when he was young, and had a wife he was happy to see only a few times a year.

“I take it you have no other children?” He looked genuinely compassionate as she shook her head.

“That's what got me into this kind of work. I can be useful to someone instead of sitting home and feeling sorry for myself.”

“You're a brave woman,” he said admiringly.

The memory of looking into the East River on the anniversary of their deaths flashed instantly into her head. The only thing that had stopped her that night was meeting Blue, and she had felt differently about her life ever since. She felt more hopeful for the first time in a long time, and now she wanted to help him, too.

“Not always brave,” she said honestly. “There have been some pretty rocky moments, but I don't have time to think about it here.”

He nodded and walked her back out into the center of the compound, well aware that even in her burqa and layers of warm clothes, she was a beautiful woman. He'd had his eye on her since she arrived, but having heard of his reputation from the others, she'd been careful not to encourage him, since he was married, and she didn't want complications in her life. She was there to work.

The comings and goings in the camp kept things interesting, and occasionally brought in new people. There was a delegation from the Human Rights High Commission in Geneva, and a group of German doctors, who were very welcome while they were there. Ginny and a few of the others rode up into the mountains with them. They delivered a baby, and examined a number of sick children. They brought two of them back to the camp with their mothers for additional medical treatment.

Two weeks before she was scheduled to leave, she went back up to the mountains again with some other members of the medical team at camp. Everything had gone smoothly so far, and her replacement was due to arrive from the New York office in another week. She was relaxed and chatting with Enzo, a young Italian medic who had arrived the week before. As they rode up the steep, rocky path on horses and mules, she and Enzo were talking about everything they wanted to eat when they got home, since food was scarce and barely edible. They passed a tricky bend in the road and rode past one of the caves where they'd always been told rebels were hiding. She and Enzo were laughing about something he had said, when a shot rang out nearby, and her horse reared up.

Ginny clutched his mane, praying he wouldn't go over the edge of the path into the steep ravine. She managed to calm him, and backed him away from it, but the horse was skittish. The Italian tried to grab the bridle and help her, just as another shot rang out closer still. Ginny looked instantly toward the leader of the group, who signaled to them to go back the way they came. And the moment he did, Enzo slumped forward on his horse with a bullet hole in the back of his head and his brain exploding from it. As soon as she looked at him, she saw that he was dead.

One of the Germans in their group swiftly grabbed his horse's reins, and led the others back down the mountain, with the entire team in hot pursuit. No other shots were fired, but Enzo had become the first casualty they'd had in nearly a year. And they didn't slow down until they reached the camp. One of the men pulled Enzo's lifeless body from his horse. They had managed not to let him fall off on the way back, and all of them were in shock at his sudden death.

The entire team met in Rupert's tent shortly afterward to discuss what security measures they would take that night. None of them had the sense that they'd been followed on the way back, and their assessment was that it had been a random lucky shot, though not lucky at all for Enzo, whose body had been wrapped in a tarp and put on a truck, to be driven into town and sent back to Italy by the Red Cross.

Rupert warned them all to be especially careful, and he assigned the male members of the camp to stand watch that night. They had contacted the local authorities by radio, and the police had promised to come out. There was tension throughout the camp while Ginny and the others tried not to alarm the women and children. But the atmosphere had changed instantly, from easy confidence to vigilance and fear. It made Ginny realize again how dangerous their work was, and that the risks were not to be taken lightly.

Rupert called her into his tent after that. He looked somber as he sat at his makeshift desk.

“I'm sending you and some of the other women home next week. I've just been told that there was another sniper a few miles away last night. I think things may heat up here again.” Ginny knew that the worker replacing her was a man. And Rupert was very protective of all of them, male and female, and efficient and professional when he needed to be. “I'd just be more comfortable sending some of you girls home. You've been here for two and a half months, almost your full tour of duty for the assignment. You've done your job here, that's long enough.” And the camp had been running smoothly for the past two months, more so than ever before, with Ginny's help.

“I'm willing to stay on,” Ginny said quietly. “We just won't go back up into the mountains.” The insurgents and soldiers of the opposition rarely came down from the caves.

“I know you are. You're always willing. But it's time to go home,” he said firmly, and Ginny could see that there was no point arguing with him. He had made up his mind. She thanked him and left. It was a little bit like being in the army—you did what you were told. Rupert was very military about the way he ran the camp. You could tell that he was a retired army officer and accustomed to having his orders followed. She went back to her tent and told the other women that they were being sent home. He was keeping the men there, but wanted as many women as possible shipped out of the camp. He didn't feel right keeping them there. And the women seemed relieved when she told them. Only Ginny had said she was willing to stay, and she would have if he'd let her.

Enzo's death cast a pall over the camp for the next several days. There were no further incidents, but Rupert was adamant about sending the women home, and Ginny was at the top of that list since she was waiting to be replaced. And the day her replacement arrived, Rupert called the women into his tent again.

“You're going tomorrow,” he said quietly. “There are strong rumors that there might be an increase in violence here soon. In fact, I think we're going to move the camp, but you're out of here.” He thanked all of them then for the fine work they'd done, and he chatted with Ginny for a few minutes when the others left the tent. “It's been a pleasure working with you,” he told her. “I'd heard good things about you before you got here, but the reality far exceeded the advance press.” He smiled at her. “You're a hell of a brave woman, and you do a terrific job.” It was high praise coming from him, because he was so competent himself. “I hope everything goes well for you when you go back. And I hope we meet again sometime in one of these crazy places. There are certainly easier areas to be in.” He had always preferred the most dangerous ones himself. He missed the adrenaline rush of combat, and he never worried about the risks to himself. He was a true warrior, and he admired that in Ginny, too. She wasn't afraid of anything. Even when Enzo was shot, she hadn't panicked, and had been strong and steady all the way back to camp, helping the rider on the other side keep Enzo's body on his horse. She had never worried about getting shot herself.

“Will you stay in New York for a while?” he asked her, making idle chitchat before she went to pack.

“I never stay for long,” she said to him with a smile. “I'm like you. This is where I want to be. I come alive here, doing this kind of work. I get bored in New York.”

“Yes, admittedly, no one is shooting at you from caves there. That's the bit you ought to avoid.” But they both knew that it came with the territory for them, and was part of the job.

They all had a quiet but convivial dinner that night in the mess tent. And Rupert was on hand to see them off the next day. Five other women left with her, two French girls from Lyon who had arrived together six months earlier from an organization in France, an English girl, and two Germans. Ginny had gone around to the women and children she had cared for, to say goodbye to them. And as they pulled out of camp, she already missed the easy camaraderie that she enjoyed so much while she was there. And the six women chatted all the way to Asadabad, and then on to Jalalabad to catch their flight to Kabul. Only the two French girls were relieved to leave. The two Germans and the Englishwoman were as sad as Ginny to go. They all knew that it would be hard to adjust to their off-duty lives again.

They discovered while they were talking that Ginny had been doing it for three years. No one they knew had continued to do fieldwork for as long, but Ginny wouldn't have had it any other way. The last thing she wanted was a desk job in New York. This had become her life.

Only when they landed at the airport in Kabul, after the flight from Jalalabad, did she begin thinking of her life in New York again. Usually, she dreaded going home to her lonely apartment and nonexistent life there. But this time she couldn't wait to get to New York. She had to find Blue. She hoped he would turn up at her apartment on the day she was meant to return. But if not, she had every intention of looking for him, and turning the city upside down to locate him. She had a strange sensation of panic, like a wave washing over her, as she worried about what would happen if she never saw him again. She knew that she'd be devastated. Whatever it took, she was going to find him.