Shadow on the Wall: Superhero | Magical Realism Novels (The SandStorm Chronicles | Magical Realism Books Book 1) (5 page)

Recai woke slowly. As the aches and pains of his body demanded recognition, his mind was overrun with the memories of the last thirty-six hours. He recalled meeting the mysterious woman with his mother's accent. The desert. Almost certain death. And now being here, in Rebekah's expert care.

Groaning once again, he sat up and appraised his surroundings with a fresh clarity of mind. His "bedroom" was actually a converted storage room, full of animal feed and blankets. Stockpiled food lay stacked on shelves: dried fruits, bags of nuts, jarred jelly and chutney. The room was built to serve as a porch, connected to the rest of the home but not built with nearly the attention to detail and quality as the rest. But he was safe, and dry, and the bed was kind. Despite his penchant for luxury, he decided this Jewish family's display of human decency made this among the best places he'd ever stayed.

Recai found sitting up to be easier, and decided to get to his feet. Determined to move around and care for himself, Recai gritted his teeth as he prepared for the inevitable pain. Dressed in cotton pants presumably belonging to Hasad, he stood. An avalanche of agony crashed over him. With a thud, Recai fell solidly to the ground. He cried out from the sudden ripping in his knee as the injured joint bent more than it should have. His damaged feet, ribs, and left knee throbbed.

"Recai!" Rebekah called from the kitchen, running in to investigate what had caused her patient to cry out. "What have you done?! Why didn't you call me?"

She looked him over to make sure none of his healing wounds had re-opened from the fall.

"I'm fine," he smiled through clenched teeth. "I only bent my knee too far, but look—I can straighten it!"

He moved to extend his leg but grimaced as he forced the angle.

"Don't hurt yourself worse in the name of pride," she teased. "I'm sure that in other circumstances your leg can bend and straighten quite impressively."

Her smile was radiant. Wavy black hair whispered around the frame of her face, unwilling to be completely tamed by her headscarf. The consideration she showed in covering within her own home touched him. It wasn't necessary—he was a guest—but he appreciated her gesture.

The two struggled together to get Recai back into the bed, where he succumbed to the weakness of his body. It had taken three tries and much more contact between the two than should have been allowed to manage it. But in the end, both were laughing comfortably, although Recai's voice was ragged and his breathing labored. As she gently tucked him in, she chuckled beneath her breath.

"It's not nice to laugh at an infirm man," Recai feigned offense.

She laughed openly.

"It's not nice to show up on a woman's doorstep bloody and missing pieces of yourself!"

 "Not the best first impression I admit."

He scooted against the wall to make room for her to sit. She sat gingerly on the edge of his bed, careful not to allow their bodies to touch.

"No, but it is the most memorable."

"Memorable I will take."

Recai's tone was soft and sincere; his face relaxed into a grin.

"Are you hungry?" Rebekah asked.

 "Yes, thank you."

She stood and patted down her skirt. Rebekah left and quickly returned holding two bowls of oatmeal with raisins and dried apricots.

"I didn't add anything to it. Do you want sugar or cinnamon?"

"No, this is wonderful."

Recai took the proffered bowl and blew on the steaming meal. He shifted on his bed, hoping she would join him again. But Rebekah lowered herself to the floor, her skirt pooling around her legs.

"Are you feeling better? Your color has improved."

"Yes, much. I don't feel like I'm actually being processed through a meat grinder."

He sat up straighter, away from the wall and began eating. The thick oatmeal warmed him within.

"I can fix that. I have one in the kitchen."

Rebekah's tone was flat as she cocked her head and looked at him with mock sincerity. Recai barked a laugh.

"Such a generous offer, but no, I'll pass for now."

"If you're sure."

She shrugged her shoulders and began her meal.

Silence surrounded them as they ate. Rebekah's eyes remained on the floor or her food, for the most part, but now and then Recai would catch her peering up at him. She was a curiosity. Living out here at the edge of civilization was a woman with intelligence and humor. She was more interesting than most of the men he encountered in Elih, but was graced with a soft beauty. This world had beaten the individuality out of most people and here, where chickens strolled casually in the street, was a woman of worth.

The day passed slowly, with Recai napping on and off. Rebekah went about her day as usual, dusting the thin film of sand that covered every surface in her home and then sweeping it all outside, only to have the wind blow it back in through the cracks around the doors and windows. Sometimes she would hum softly to herself, and Recai would close his eyes, pretending to be asleep so she would continue.

She prepared lunch and they ate together again, laughing more easily, becoming comfortable with the strangeness of their burgeoning friendship.

Recai still found it difficult to move, His badly blistering feet required Rebekah to change the dressings often. His vulnerability embarrassed him but Rebekah tended to him quickly and without fuss. She simply did what needed to be done and moved on to her next task, her smile quick to return whenever she glanced his way. A sharp knock at the door broke their peaceful afternoon.

Knock
. Just one solid sound.

Recai sat up too quickly and fell back against his mattress gasping as Rebekah stuck her head into his small room, her face creased with worry and fear.

"Cover yourself and stay silent," she whispered before closing the door and rushing back into the living room to retrieve her burqa and open the door. Recai heard the movement of the heavy fabric she wore on top of her house dress as she moved across the room to greet their visitor. He wondered if she had retrieved her father's gun which he'd overheard Hasad say was under the couch in the living room.

Before hiding beneath the thin sheet that covered him, he reached down and pulled the rug from the floor and threw it across his legs. He covered his head and melted against the wall with the pillow on top of his upper body. Feeling foolish, Recai laid there, wishing he had his ID, his phone, anything to help bribe his way out of this situation if it was indeed the RTK at the door.

Perhaps it's just a neighbor
, he thought.
A neighbor come to ask after Rebekah's father's health or to borrow some salt.
His attempt at rationalizing the unexpected visit did not quell his fears. The RTK made a habit of performing home inspections, especially if they suspected a woman alone. It wasn't a safe time for anyone under the jurisdiction of Mayor Yilmaz.

Rebekah's voice from the front room was soft and gentle. Recai could not make out the words but he managed to hear the sound of another voice. Was it a man? What man would she let into her home, knowing he was back here and her father away? Only one she could not turn away. Recai squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to Allah that it was her Rabbi, come to check on her.

" . . . Only a storeroom, my father sleeps back here with the supplies and sometimes the animals so I can have the proper privacy a woman should be afforded," Recai heard her say.

Rebekah's voice was right outside the door to his room. She remained calm, not a hint of fear betrayed her. Few were able to handle themselves as coolly as she sounded. Recai prayed her strength would be enough.

They were in trouble. The only men who would feel at liberty to explore a woman's home when she was alone were the RTK and their morality police. No one else possessed the sheer hypocritical audacity. And to come all the way out here, to this nothing village without even a paved road or proper mosque. Recai had the fleeting thought that perhaps this was not about Rebekah but about him and however he had ended up in the desert on the brink of death.

The door swung open abruptly, startling Recai despite his knowing it would happen. He was as covered as was feasible. He willed himself to fade into the shadows of the small room and tried not to breathe.
In'shallah
this would all be over soon.

"If you wish to see the extra food for the animals and what preserves I was able to can last year, you are more than welcome to it," Rebekah said with a touch more attitude than was prudent.

Recai heard a heavy pair of feet walk to the center of the room. The intruder smelled like sun-burnt leather and breathed loudly. His boots scraped on the concrete floor as he took a cursory look at the room.

"There's nothing back here," he called to the main room in Turkish. But another voice responded quickly, coming closer.

"There's something not right with the bathroom. There is blood on a towel and a first aid kit is set out. Has someone been hurt? What explains this?" the second man demanded as he stormed into the small room, forcing Rebekah to walk farther in and closer to the Turk who had entered first.

"The blood is… it is sinful to speak of."

Rebekah sounded modest and embarrassed, acting her part perfectly. Recai liked her more with each moment they spent together. Now, she was in danger and all he could do was grind his teeth and hold his muscles in still readiness. His legs cried out with pain from the uncomfortable position he was in, and his mind screamed at him to do something.

"No, this is not menstrual blood. I am not a stupid man. I suggest you try the truth the next time you speak."

Recai held his breath, his body shaking with the need to act. He bit the pillow in front of him to keep from jumping up and screaming. If he were well he could defend her; Recai had spent his life fencing, boxing, and practicing Karakucak in school leagues. He'd served in the Turkish Army and had even served two years with the elite Egirdir Commando. He was hardly a stranger to a broken nose or twisted ankle, but his injuries were too severe to allow him to be of help.

Rebekah remained silent despite the man's interrogation; her irritation at the morality policemen standing in her home mounted. She simply did not know what to say and, in times like this, found it best to say nothing at all. Let them think her stupid or afraid if they wished. She didn't care so long as they left.

Keeping her head down, she was glad for the eggplant colored burqa her father had bought her. Even her eyes were covered by a strip of lace she could see out of but which did not allow others to see in.