The Ghosts of Anatolia (39 page)

“You can read it whenever you like,” Sirak replied soothingly. “I want to talk to you.”

“You can talk here,” Nazira offered politely. “It’s time to go home. Umar wants his supper early.”

“No, please stay, Nazira. You are Izabella’s friend. You should hear this, too.”

Nazira searched Sirak’s eyes. She stepped around the table and sat beside Izabella.

Sirak reached across the table and took Izabella’s hands. “Do you trust me, my sister?”

Izabella stared restlessly at the tabletop. “Why do you ask me?”

“There’s something important I must tell you. Please, look at me.” Izabella looked up at Sirak. “Yes, of course, my brother—you know I trust you.”

“The
Ajaweed
have decided we must leave Rashayya. We will travel to Jerusalem to find Papa and Steppanos.”

Izabella’s mouth dropped open. “With
Abee
and
Ummee
?”

“No, just you and me.”

“No! I don’t want to leave our home!”

“I’m afraid we have no choice, Izabella. It’s been decided for us. At least we will be together, and I will look out for you and take care of you, always.”

Bursting into tears, Izabella collapsed into Nazira’s arms.

Nazira cradled Izabella against her chest. Frowning at Sirak, she shook her head. “That’s enough for now.”

“She needs to know,” Sirak said pointedly.

“Okay, you’ve told her. Now leave us alone.”

“There is one more thing…. I need your help, Nazira. I want to say goodbye to Yasmin before we leave.”

Nazira’s eyes opened wide. “Are you crazy? She’s betrothed.”

“I must say goodbye. Tarak will bring her to the river if you ask him to. Will you help me?”

“No, I won’t. None of this would’ve happened in the first place if Yasmin’s parents hadn’t found out about you meeting her.”

“Shhh!” Sirak turned and peered at the curtain. “
Abee
and
Ummee
will hear you.”

“Sirak, it’s too risky. Don’t think about yourself, think about Yasmin. Think about her future!”

“I am thinking about her. All I do is think about her. It’s your fault, you know. It was your idea for me to come with you.”

“Only as my escort. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with Umar’s sister. You knew it was forbidden.”

“Your meeting Umar before marriage was forbidden, too. Please, Nazira, I just want to say goodbye.”

“I’ll discuss it with Umar. He’ll probably say no, but I’ll ask him.”

Sirak reached across the table and squeezed Nazira’s hand. “You’re my angel.”

Nazira kissed Izabella on the forehead and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Let’s take you to
Ummee
.” She helped the anguished young woman to her feet and guided her out through the curtain.

Azusa looked up and dropped her paring knife. She rushed around the counter and gathered Izabella into her arms.

“I don’t want to leave,
Ummee
,” Izabella sobbed.

“I know you don’t, and it’s not what we want either, but God will watch over you and your brother will protect you. Come and lie down; this has been a big shock to all of us,” she said, leading Izabella out of the kitchen.

Nazira waited until they were out of earshot. “How can they do this to her?” she asked Sirak.

“They don’t care. We don’t exist to the
Ajaweed
.”

Nazira kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve got to go. Umar’s going to be furious.”

“Don’t forget to ask him about Yasmin.”

“I won’t. I’ll see you Thursday.”

Sirak gazed down at the familiar river bend. At the water’s edge, Umar was squatting in a formation of rocks at the top of the bank. Sirak watched the young Druze select a stone. He tossed it into the slow-moving water. He spotted Sirak and turned to face him.

Sirak spurred his horse and trotted down the steep trail. “Where is she?”

“It’s impossible,” Umar replied. “My mother knows you’re leaving tomorrow. She’s watching Yasmin like a hawk. My brother, Tarak, is suspicious, too. God knows what he’d do if he ever found out.”

“So that’s how it all ends? I never see her again…even to say goodbye?”

“Yes, that’s how it ends. But I brought you a note. It’s the best she could do.”

Sirak dismounted and grabbed the paper from Umar. He stuffed it into his pocket and walked his horse back up the hill.

Umar squinted up at him through the bright midday sun. “Forget her, Sirak. It can never be.”

“Why? Why do men let the decrees of a ruler who lived ten centuries ago dictate their lives? You
Juhh
l
know precious little about these doctrines yourselves. Doesn’t that frustrate you?”

“Sometimes,” Umar replied solemnly. “But Rashayya is our home, and it’s always been our home. If Nazira and I want to remain part of this community, and have our children be part of this community, then we must obey the
Uqq
l
decrees and so must Yasmin.”

Sirak remounted his horse. “Goodbye, Umar.”

“Goodbye, Sirak. May God be with you and Izabella.”

Sirak rode down the hill. Sensing they were headed home, the horse broke into a trot. Sirak jerked back on the reins. “Are you anxious for me to go, too, Talon?”

Sirak turned off the main trail and rode deep into a rocky, brush-covered gorge. He dismounted his horse, sat on a boulder and pulled Yasmin’s note from his pocket. It was unsigned, but he recognized the graceful Arabic script.

My darling Sirak, I know I’ve disappointed you yet again. You once said I was weak, and now you know it’s really true. May God be with you and Izabella. I will never forget your kindness and the friendship we shared together. You will remain in my memory forever.

Sirak folded the letter and slipped it back into his pocket. He gazed out over the featureless, barren desert. In the far-off distance, a line of dark clouds poured rain down on the foothills. “Why, God?” he muttered. “Why do you give me love and then take it away? Papa, Alek, Stepannos, Flora, Mikael, Mama, and now Yasmin, too.”

Remounting his horse, Sirak rode back to the main road. He paralleled the river for several kilometers and ascended into the foothills through the carefully-manicured orchards and groves where he’d toiled beside Ammar since he was a boy. In the fleeting afternoon light, his shadow leapt from one tree to the next. He rounded a bend and the familiar farmhouse welcomed him home for the last time.

Sirak climbed hand over foot to the top of a rock pile at the edge of a terraced grove where two-year-old olive seedlings were taking hold. He stared out over the pitch-black valley far below and scanned the sky filled with twinkling stars and constellations. Fixing his eyes on the Big Dipper, he traced its pointers down to the North Star. He gazed at the star, closed his eyes and said a short prayer of atonement. He turned at the rustling of leaves and found Ammar climbing up the formation behind him. “Hello, Abee,” he said solemnly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I love to sit here at night and gaze at the heavens.”

Ammar smiled up at the stars. “It’s very beautiful. I’ll come to this place and think of you. And I will miss you every day as I work in our groves and orchards.”

Sirak got up and stood before Ammar with his hands on the older man’s shoulders. “I’ll miss you, too. Most men are fortunate to have one good father to teach them what’s important in life and to show them how to be a man. God blessed me with two, and both are as steady as the Northern Star.”

Ammar collapsed into Sirak’s arms and wept unashamedly. “God, have mercy,” he gasped; “it’s you who taught me, my son, it’s you who taught me.”

The two men clung to each other in silence for a time and then sat down on the rocks.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Ammar said. “God willing, you’ll be accepted to the medical school and find a wife in Jerusalem. After you marry, the concerns of the
Uqq
l
will be mollified. I want you to come back to live with us here in Rashayya. We need another doctor and there’s plenty of room to build a new house on this land—one large enough for the big family you’ve always wanted.”

Sirak smiled gratefully. “Thank you,
Abee
.”

“Put your faith in God and He’ll show you the way. Take special care of Izabella. She can’t survive alone. Your sister is the sweetest person I’ve ever known, but also the most fragile.”

“I will. You mustn’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. She’ll be a wonderful wife and devoted mother. You must help her find the right man.”

Sirak stared at Ammar in the muted light of the half-moon. The patches of white in his full beard shimmered like glass wool and his sunken eyes were outlined with concentric wrinkles. Seemingly overnight, he’d aged two decades. “Don’t worry,
Abee
, we’ll be fine. We’ll send back letters with the merchant.”

Ammar smiled sadly and nodded his head. He reached out and patted Sirak’s arm. “I know you’ll be fine. Well, we’d better go inside.
Ummee
wants to say goodbye, too.”

Sirak took Ammar’s hand and the two of them walked slowly to the house.

The wagon came to a stop on the main street in Rashayya. Another wagon, pulled by an old mare, was parked alongside the building. It was half-filled with carpets and other goods.

Ammar climbed down to the ground. “Stay here with the women, Sirak. I’ll be right back.” He headed through the open door.

Sirak turned in the driver’s seat. Asuza and Layla stared back solemnly from the bed of the wagon. Izabella was sitting between them with her face buried against Azusa’s chest.

Sirak peered up the street at an approaching one-horse carriage. “Yasmin,” he whispered.

Sitting between her older brother, Tarak, and her father, Ezekiel, Yasmin stared dejectedly at Sirak. Their eyes locked in silent misery. Tarak stared at Sirak, too, but Ezekiel looked straight ahead.

Ezekiel flicked the reins and the carriage sped past. Sirak stared after the buggy until it disappeared behind a building at the end of the street.

Ammar emerged from the shop a few minutes later. The weaver and a pudgy man with a long white beard were with him. All three men were
carrying rolled rugs. They walked to the trader’s wagon and stacked the bolts in the bed.

“Sirak, this is Jeremiah Levite,” Ammar said. “He’s agreed to take you and Izabella to Saint James Monastery in Jerusalem.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sirak replied politely.

The old Jew nodded respectfully. “I’m honored, young man. Ammar told me you’re interested in medicine.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve wanted to become a physician since I was a young boy.”

“My younger brother, Eli, is a surgeon in Bethlehem. I’m sure he’ll help you.”

Sirak glanced at Ammar and smiled at the memory of their conversation the previous night.

“Would you prefer to ride up front with me or in the back with your sister?” the old Jew asked.

Sirak glanced at Izabella. She was clinging to Azusa and trembling with trepidation. “I’d better ride with my sister for now, but maybe later I can ride up front. I want to ask you about Jerusalem...if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’ve lived in the Holy City most of my life; I’ve got many customers who live in the Armenian Quarter. I can tell you everything there is to know.”