The Intern Affair (45 page)

“It was just a rough wake-up call that’s all…
.
Where is Samir?”
That’s a stupid question
, Talya thought.
Where else could he be?

“He’s in the cockpit, and I think
Michel
is preparing him to land the aircraft.”

“Samir is?
He’s going to enjoy that.”

“Oh yes he will.
And since he’s planning to buy a Lear next year, I think this is an excellent test drive.”

“Buy a Lear?
Samir said he was buying a Lear?” Talya was astonished.

“Yes, that’s what he told us a few hours ago. But they’re not that expensive you know.
It’s the maintenance and fuelling that becomes expensive if you fly a lot.
Although an aircraft like this one doesn’t like to be kept on the ground.
It needs to be in the air.”

Marcel
and Talya were relaxing in their seats as the plane took a slow turn eastward in the direction of the
Nouakchott
airport.
They were descending through the clouds and as they came closer to the airport, Talya noticed what she had expected to see.
She didn’t know if
Marcel
was aware of their plans, so she didn’t say anything.

When they touched down, Talya was elated. She didn’t know why, but it seemed that the whole world was rejoicing with her at the sight before her eyes.

Marcel
noticed her grin and laughed.
“They’re here for you, Talya. Isn’t it a beautiful sight?”
He was right. A caravan was always a beautiful sight.
There must have been fifteen camels in full desert gear with their driver and women standing at their head waving at the plane as they passed before them.

Samir came out of the cockpit first and took Talya in his arms to help her to her feet and into the aisle.
Michel
and
Marcel
passed them to open the door and lower the staircase. They alighted from the plane before they did.
When Samir took the first step and showed his face at the door, they heard a chorus of ‘cheers’.
In this case, the
cheers
were Arabic words of welcome screamed at the top of one’s lungs, and they actually sounded horrific to people like Talya who did not understand the language.

On the second step, Samir turned to grab hold of Talya and lifted her in his arms.
When they were at the foot of the stairs, a man came running toward them and said a few words in Arabic to Samir. The latter replied with some roughness in his tone of voice.

He then smiled and whispered, “He’s my brother, Talya, and he wanted to take you off my arms.
I told him that Allah would strike him dead if he dared lay one finger on you.”

Talya grinned at Samir and she held on tight with her able hand around his neck.
Michel
and
Marcel
, who had watched the scene, laughed with joy in their eyes.

Michel
said, “We have to go now, Talya. But be sure to call us when you get back, or if you need any help in the meantime.”

“I will,
Michel
, and may God be with you always.”

“Take care, Talya,”
Marcel
said as he was climbing aboard.
They would go to the hangar, park the plane and spend the night in the city before going back to
Paris
the next day.

“Samir, what about going through customs? Don’t we have to…?”

“Hush, Princess.
From now on, my brothers and I will take care of you.
Let me get you to the shade and leave you in the hands of your servants.
They will dress you and get you ready to leave.”
Dress me?
My servants? What’s next?
Talya had vision of Cleopatra
.
Stop it, Talya!

The heat was already unbearable.
It must have been 40
o
C
in the shade—and there wasn’t any.
Talya was sweating profusely and so was Samir.
A minute later, they reached a tent that had been pitched some distance away from the tarmac.
Samir deposited Talya on the ground and took a cursory glance of
the
surroundings.
He seemed satisfied. Two veiled women approached them with deference.
They wore black garments and veil under a blue abayah (or cloak).

“My Lady, the women before you will serve you during our journey. Their names are
Afilah
and
Jasmin
.” Samir pointed in the direction of each woman in turn. “
Jasmin
speaks French and she will understand your needs.”

Talya knew she was not to address them in Samir’s presence.
She smiled as they bowed their heads.

“And now, will you give me your passport so that I can have it stamped?
I will bring it back when we see each other again after prayer.”
Talya didn’t say a word and handed him what he had requested. He took it; look down at her, his eyes telling her words she didn’t need to hear.

In a moment, he was gone. Talya watched him cross the distance separating the tent from the airport building.
How precious this man has become to me….
She then turned to
Jasmin
and
Afilah
and asked, “Would you have some water for me to drink?”

“Yes, but please come with us we need to make you comfortable,”
Jasmin
replied, unpinning the veil from her face.
God! Is she beautiful!
Her face was one of perfection—each side, the mirror image of the other. Her large black eyes were like black pearls resting on nacre, and encircled of long eyelashes. Her fine nose and lips reminded Talya of those of Egyptian women of Antiquities. Her colouring was of rose pottery clay unblemished by the signs of age. Talya was staring at her.

She smiled demurely. “Come, My Lady, come.”

Seeing that Talya was about to hop on her good foot,
Afilah
came to her side and said words she didn’t understand, but she showed her that she wanted for her to put her weight on her so that they could
walk
to the inner part of the tent.
She, too, had removed the veil from around her head, only to reveal the gentle and ageing face of a very strong woman, but she, too, must have been attractive in her younger days.
In a few paces,
Jasmin
lifted a drape that hid the litter on which Talya sat.
There was a small basin set on the one side of the cot and a camel saddle on the other.
A pile of folded clothes laid on it.

Jasmin
fetched a calabash from under the bed. “This is fresh water.
Please drink, it will refresh you.”
Did it ever!
It was only ten o’clock in the morning, but the heat was pulsating through her body at the rate of her heart without reprieve.
“You are too hot in these clothes.
We will undress you and wash down the heat from your body.
Please lie down and we will do our work.
You will feel better afterward.”

“Thank you,
Jasmin
.
I think that’s a good idea.
I am tired.”

They undressed her, took the jeans, T-shirt, and everything else off her, and dropped them in a heap beside the litter.
Talya already felt better.
They covered her with a white sheet and washed her from under it with a cloth and water from the small basin while respecting the decency and the sanctity of a woman’s body—all the while talking cheerfully and giggling at times.
They looked happy.
Once the bathing part was over, they wrapped the sheet around her as they would a towel, took the pieces of clothing from atop the camel’s saddle, and handed each piece for Talya to wear. The apparel was quite elaborate. It consisted of a fine, white linen pair of pants and a long shirt called a thawb. The next piece of garment was a veil made of light woven cotton.
Jasmin
wrapped it around Talya’s head and showed her how to pin it to the side of her face when in stranger’s company. It was a welcome addition as far as Talya was concerned since it covered the ugly plastered stitches and bruises of her face, which had turned the colours of the rainbow by now. Although, and as a rule, the Touareg women rarely veil their entire face, apparently Samir had directed the women of the tribe to cover their faces so that Talya would be one amongst them during this trip. The last piece, a beautifully embroidered abayah, completed the attire. The royal blue abayah enveloped her from head to toe; it would set Talya apart from other Muslim women in a crowd as a member of a Touareg tribe.

Again, Talya felt like a real princess. As for the heat, her body temperature must have dropped ten degrees since she first l
ay
on the litter.
She felt so good she wanted to run outside and show herself to the sun in utter defiance.

Jasmin
sensed that Talya wanted to step out.
“My Lady, the sand is hot and it will burn your feet.
You must let us put shoes on you.”

At that moment, Talya wished she wouldn’t have listened to Samir who had objected to her taking the leg support which she had worn until they left
Paris
. He had said that the sand would get into every hinges of the contraption and make her even more uncomfortable than she was without it.
“Yes, of course, but one foot won’t fit into a shoe,
Jasmin
.”

“Oh it will, don’t worry.”

She knelt on the floor and pulled a pair of goat’s hair socks from under the cot.
Each woman took one shoe and slid them on her feet.
They were fitted with a sole, from which a series of leather laces went around Talya’s ankles and calves.
They felt soft and comfortable.

“
Afilah
has woven these for you, when she was told you were joining us.”

“Please tell her thank you for me.
They feel so soft; it’s like fitting my feet into little clouds.”
Jasmin
giggled and repeated Talya’s thanks to the older woman.
Afilah
smiled and kissed Talya’s hand.

“
Afilah
didn’t mean any disrespect, My Lady, she is just very happy that you have come.”

“I am just grateful that
God
gave me leave to be here,
Jasmin
.
I am happy to share a few days with you.”

“We are also thankful every day.
And now I think you are ready to go outside,”
Jasmin
said as both women got to their feet. “But remember to pin your veil when you see a strange man.
Samir would be angry at us if you didn’t.”

Talya nodded, knowing this was an added safety precaution when she would be facing strangers who may be liable to identify her otherwise.

A few minutes later, Talya heard Samir’s voice from outside the tent. With
Afilah
’s help, she limped to the entry, and looked at the three men in front of her.
Samir, the
Sheikh
of his tribe was dressed in the traditional attire.
He wore a white djellaba under a royal blue mishlah (loose-fitting, long-sleeved robe) adorned of a large gold amulet pendent on a heavy beaded chain, encircling the neckline.
A white linen turban (litham or shesh) enveloped his head almost entirely. He had a camel strap in his right hand.
The white of the litham only accented the fine features of his face.
He too had become unrecognizable to a passer-by.

His companions, whom Talya assumed to be his brothers, were dressed in similar but more modest fashion. Samir approached Talya, leaving the other two men behind him.
He put one knee on the ground, and looked up at her. “Talya, I have prayed for us to remain safe through the days ahead.
Please accept my company and that of my brothers in the journey, I humbly beg of you.”
This ancient custom, to ask a woman’s leave to accompany her, dates back to the time of Abraham.
For Talya to answer, she needed a calabash of water.
Jasmin
had anticipated the event, and handed her the gourd she had brought out with her.

“Please take a drink, Samir
Sheikh
Mandalay
, and I shall accept your company, and the sharing of your hospitality in our journey.”
Talya handed him the gourd and he drank from it such as their ancestors had done thousands of years ago.

Samir rose and smiled at Talya with a glimmer of joy in his tender eyes. “We will depart now, everyone is ready, Talya.
You and I will ride on the same méhari until tonight or until you become used to the desert and to the beast’s paces under you.
But before we go, I want you to meet my brothers.” Samir turned to the two men. “My Lady, this is
Abdullah
and Ishmael.” Talya bowed her head acknowledging their presence.