Path of Jen: Bloodborne (9 page)

Jen and the other girls were herded toward
the nearest building and ushered inside. As they went inside, each
of the girls slipped her shoes or sandals off and left them by the
door. Jen followed suit and joined the others on the floor against
the far wall. They were not there long before a woman in a black
burka walked swiftly in and spoke firmly to the group in Farsi. Jen
did not understand, so she watched the others to see what how they
responded. They stood and got in line according to the woman’s
instruction. Jen began to worry that she would be discovered if she
didn’t figure out what pattern they were following. She didn’t want
to let on that she was American. Panic was setting in when the
little girl with light skin took her hand and walked her to the
front of the line, just behind the tallest girl. Jen looked back at
the others.
“Oh! We’re going tallest to smallest,”
she
realized. She squeezed the young girls hand and let her go back to
her own place in line.

She swallowed as the woman in black said
something sharply and the line began shuffling forward. Jen stepped
with the others and followed the woman in black to another room
within the building. In the next room there was a young girl, also
wearing a black robe, but she wore a hijab rather than the full
face covering. She stood by two boxes. One contained folded black
cloth and the other had underwear. She handed each girl a pile of
the black cloth and one pair of panties as they passed by. Jen took
hers and filed after the tall girl to the next room. The tall girl
began stripping down and changing into the given clothing. The
black clothing was a full length burka, just like the woman and
young girl wore.
“Oh great.”

When all of the girls were dressed, the young
girl came in and took all of their discarded clothing. The older
girls wore burkas and the younger girls wore open face hijabs. Jen
wanted to protest having to wear a burka, but knew that would give
her away. She watched the girl take her clothes into the room they
had just come from. The old woman snapped another order and the
girls followed her to yet another room.

The fourth room was narrow and long. The
girls were lined up along the wall and made to stand still.
“What is this place?”
wondered Jen.
“I feel like a slave
in a slave market.”

The old woman stood next to the doorway and
watched like a hawk. She snapped at them each time someone lifted
their gaze or made a sound. The room was deathly silent when a
shadow crept through the doorway and caught everyone’s attention.
It was followed closely by an average height man dressed in a brown
robe. He had a curly black beard, sharp features, and piercing
eyes. Jen quickly looked down as soon as she saw him. His demeanor
demanded respect, and he seemed to exude authority.

The man was followed by two others, who
seemed to be little more than servants or body guards. He did not
speak to them and they followed immediately each time he moved, but
at a respectful distance. The woman looked at the floor when he
walked past her to inspect the girls. He stood in front of each
girl, lifting her chin and staring into her eyes before moving to
the next. He spoke to some of them, eliciting a response that Jen
could not understand.
“Please don’t speak to me,”
she
thought.

The man stepped in front of Jen and lifted
her chin. He stared into her eyes with his piercing brown eyes and
Jen was immediately frightened. She felt as if he could see her
thoughts and knew exactly what she was hiding. She tried to look
away, but he held her face firmly in is hand and then he did what
she most feared. He spoke softly, a few gentle words in Farsi.
“Oh no!”
Jen thought.
“He will know!”
She swallowed
and her eyes darted back and forth, trying to discern the meaning
of his alien words. He frowned and his eyes narrowed.
“Please,
God! Help me!”

He spoke again and the softness was gone from
his voice. Jen didn’t know what he said, but she knew she was in
trouble. The two men standing behind him walked forward and took
hold of her arms. They began to drag her toward the door. “No!” she
shouted. “Leave me alone!" She struggled vainly to break free. The
man raised his hand and they stopped. They turned her to face him
and he walked forward to stand before her again.

He spoke one word with a strong Persian
accent, “American." The anger in his face was gone. Instead, he
seemed curious and slightly amused. “What is name?”

Jen’s body trembled from the surge of
adrenalin, but she managed to say, “Jena Amahdi." He nodded
thoughtfully and waved his hand dismissively to the other men. They
let go and stepped back to their places behind him. Jen stepped
back against the wall and the man moved on to the next girl.

“
What just happened?”
she wondered.
Her head spun with confusion and relief
. “Am I safe? Did I just
get lucky, or did I make things worse?”’

The man spoke to the woman briefly and then
he and his body guards left the building. Once they were gone, the
woman walked to the front of the room. She spoke more gently than
before, and it went on for some time. The other girls nodded
periodically, or shook their heads, but no one aside from the woman
spoke. Jen was lost. She could not even guess at what they were
hearing. It must have been something about rules or what to expect,
but it meant nothing to her. She just stood quietly and prayed it
would be over soon.

When the woman was done speaking they were
taken behind the building where a small wooden fence stood to
provide concealment while they went to the bathroom. By this time,
Jen was not embarrassed to squat and do her business with the other
girls. The worst part was that there was no running water and no
toilet paper. The best she could do for hygiene was to splash water
from a plastic bottle and hope for a shower later.

The girls were then taken to a second
building, which was much smaller than the first. It consisted of a
single room with straw mats and a few blankets.
“This is where
we’ll sleep,”
Jen surmised. They looked dirty and not entirely
comfortable, but after days of riding in the back of a bumpy and
dusty truck, Jen couldn’t wait to lay down on one and rest. The
woman spoke to them again while gesturing toward the mats and then
took them outside once more. They were led to a wooden shack where
another woman was preparing food in large pots over a single fire
pit. Jen had no idea what was in the pots, but it made her mouth
water. Her stomach growled a she stood waiting. Four of the girls
were selected to stay with the woman and help prepare food. The
rest were led to another wooden shack where a girl was dunking
clothes into a tub of dirty brown, but soapy water and scrubbing
them. She dunked the same clothes into a tub of clean water before
wringing them out and hanging them up to dry. Jen and three others
were selected to stay and help the girl with the laundry.
“Thank
you God,”
thought Jen.
“This is something I can do without a
translator."
She took the wrung out clothes from the girl and
began hanging them over the clothes lines that crisscrossed the
alley between two buildings.

It didn’t take long to cover all of the
clothes lines, but there were still several baskets of laundry
waiting to be done. The girl who was in charge directed them to
continue washing and rinsing the clothes, and then to Jen’s
surprise, had them lay the clean clothes out on the dirt to dry.
Jen didn’t argue. She did as she was told.

By the time they had washed all of the
clothes, Jen was getting hungry. She looked over to where the
others were preparing food and wondered when they would be allowed
to eat. It would be the first real food any of them had to eat in
several days. The woman in charge of the food stepped out of the
shack and shouted something in all directions. In seconds, men from
all over the compound converged on the shack and formed a long
line. Most were solemn and quiet as they waited in line. Some of
the younger men were more jovial and laughed and joked with each
other as they waited. All of them were dressed in traditional
Muslim garb.
“It could be a thousand years ago, and there is
nothing within view to show otherwise,”
thought Jen. She shook
her head and continued folding the mostly dry robes as she had been
shown.

An hour later, the men had all passed through
the meal line and the girls were permitted to stop working and eat
what was left. They took their food, which consisted of a salty
broth with vegetables and some stringy meat, to their living area.
They were permitted to take off their head coverings once inside.
The break lasted long enough to eat the food and rest for a few
moments, and then they were ushered out again. This time, they
walked through the men’s dining area and policed up all of their
dishes and discarded trash. They were divided up once again into
dishwashing and laundry details. Others retrieved water in five
gallon buckets from a well just outside the compound, while Jen and
the light skinned girl were given straw brooms and instructed to
sweep out the first building they had entered upon arrival.

That evening, as dusk settled in, more trucks
rumbled into camp. The girls were ushered inside to be closed in
their sleeping quarters for the night. As she was obediently
walking inside, Jen saw the man in brown greeting armed soldiers as
they jumped down from the back of pick-up trucks. They carried
machine guns and wore black scarves wrapped around their faces and
heads. Jen’s head spun as the door was closed and the room became
dark.
“Are these the soldiers who are fighting the ISIS
terrorists I have heard about on TV? Are these people Kurds? Am I
just here to be a cleaner or a cook?”
she wondered as she took
off her head covering and lay down on a straw mat. The little girl
with light skin found her in the darkness and lay down next to her.
She put her head against Jen’s chest and curled up in a ball. Jen
calmed and her heart melted.
“This girl needs me,”
she
thought. I have to be strong for her. She closed her eyes and put
her arm around her little friend.

Soon, the warm food and exhaustion from many
days of travel took their toll on Jen and the other girls. She was
falling asleep. As she drifted into slumber, Jen recalled the men
climbing down from the trucks. She imagined they were honorable
soldiers, fighting to protect the Christian’s living in Syria and
Iraq. She imagined some of them were handsome and kind and that
tomorrow she would meet one of them. He would approach her as she
worked with the other girls, and she would find that he spoke
English like her. A smile crept across her face as she slept.

“Ouch!” Jen shouted. “Hey! Stop it!" Her hair
was being pulled and it really hurt!

A child was crying and she could hear
scuffling noises as she pushed whoever was pulling her hair away.
It was dark and she could not see, but she felt small arms
flailing, and small hands grasping for her. “Oh No!” she yelled.
“Leave her alone!" The light skinned girl was being dragged away
from her and the girl struggled to hold on and stay with Jen. Jen
sat up and grabbed hold of the girl. There was a terrible tug of
war between Jen and some unseen person who smelled of sweat and
dust. The girl wrapped her arms around Jen’s neck, and Jen had her
own arms wrapped tightly around the girl’s body.

Suddenly, in the dark, Jen saw stars. Light
exploded in front of her eyes and a metallic taste flooded her
mouth. A dull, but heavy pressure spread across the middle of her
face and then pain sharply stabbed her nose and upper teeth.
“I
just got punched in the face,”
she thought.
“So that’s what
it feels like,”
she considered dimly as her arms went slack and
the girl was ripped away. She fell back onto the straw mat they had
slept on and watched the stars swirling just beyond her reach. Pain
increased as her senses returned, and she realized she was having
trouble breathing through the blood and snot in her mouth and over
her nose. She sat up again and spit blood onto the floor. She could
see the open door despite the darkness, and hurried to it.
“Where is she?”
Jen wondered in a panic.
“Oh dear God! I
pushed her away!”

Jen’s hand was over her mouth as she tried to
fathom what was happening.
“Who took her?"
She looked behind
her, and saw only darkness.
“Why?"
Jen turned back to the
door just as it was shut from outside. A man with fierce eyes
growled at her and slammed it closed. She heard a latch click, and
footsteps walking away. She tried the door knob, but it was locked.
She raised her fist to pound on it, and then stopped.
“What if
they come back and hurt these girls because of me?"
Feeling
guilty, helpless, and still shaking with adrenalin, Jen slowly
walked back to her mat. She sat down and gingerly touched her nose.
“Ouch!"
Her whole face felt swollen. Jen wrapped her arms
around her belly and cried. “Why are you letting this happen, God?”
she asked aloud. “Please, help me." Then, looking up into the
darkness she pled, “Please, Father, help my friend."

Hours later, morning light crept under the
door and the latch clicked open. The door swung quickly aside as
the woman in black entered and roused them from their sleep. She
walked among them and prodded those still sleeping with her foot.
Jen was still awake after the fight last night, and immediately sat
up. She looked around the room, hoping to see the little light
skinned girl sleeping somewhere else. She was not. Jen felt hollow
as she slipped the head covering over her bruised face and stood
up. She took a deep breath and prepared mentally to face another
day. She let it out slowly.
“I wish Sarah was here. If I had a
friend to talk to, this wouldn’t seem so bad."