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“Wa aalaykom al salam,” the male voice responded to the greeting. “White car, to your left. Pink dice in the mirror. Get in and say nothing.”
The Arabic came out low and raspy, and Seif had to press his mobile phone to his ear to hear over the din of the growing traffic around him. “White car?”
“White car. On your left. Pink dice. Say nothing.”
The clipped response sent a chill across Seif’s shoulders despite the rare twenty-one-degree temps keeping the city balmy this early in the year. Searching to his left, Seif panicked. There were nearly a dozen white cars parked or moving in and around the school’s barriers. Shading his eyes, he searched for pink dice, but the glare of the sun was too much, forcing him to cross into the chaotic traffic.
A black car screeched to a halt, nearly clipping him, and the driver stuck his head out of the car, cursing. Seif pressed the fingers of his right hand together, a gesture asking for the impatient driver to wait. The irate man inched forward, horn honking until Seif moved far enough over that he could steer around him, leaving a string of curses in his wake.
“You have one minute,” the voice said.
“Wait. Please.” Seif moved quicker, eyes scanning every car for pink dice. His heart pounded in his chest with each passing second. A ticking time bomb threatening to erase the hope he had allowed to enter his heart.
Seif thought he saw a flicker of something pink. He pushed aside a woman in a burka, no apology on his lips—only a prayer to Allah that this was it. In a near jog, Seif worked his way around a large SUV, ignoring the driver eyeing him with suspicion. He searched every white vehicle around him, until finally—he saw them. Pink dice.
He yanked the back door open and dropped inside, a breath of relief spoiled only by the thick cloud of cigarette smoke filling the vehicle.
“I am here.” The words were meant for the man on the phone, but the phone remained silent against his ear. “Hallo? Hallo?”Seif pulled the phone away to look at the screen just as the driver jerked the car forward and into traffic.
“Say nothing.”
Leaning back in his seat, Seif replayed the instructions in his mind. He glanced at the rearview mirror and caught the driver eyeing him. Redirecting his attention out the window, Seif watched as the driver efficiently maneuvered around traffic, taking him out of Ma’adi.
Where was he going?
His mobile vibrated in his hand. Turning it over, he saw Heba’s face smiling up at him. He brushed his thumb, fingernail dirty from his last job, across her cheek. He was doing this for her. For their child.
The car hit a pothole, hard, sending Seif bouncing in the back seat. He grabbed the overhead handle and braced himself as he monitored the changing scenery outside the car. They were no longer traveling in the city, crammed with high-rise apartments, shops, and markets. The landscape outside his window had shifted from overcrowded city to arid wilderness.
The wadi. He was being taken to the desert.
Fear sent his heart pounding in an erratic rhythm. He bit down on his lip, holding back the urge to ask questions, find out where he was being taken. The road turned rougher. Large ruts cut into the dirt road sent the car jostling so much that Seif feared he was going to be sick.
Thankfully, the car began to slow as another vehicle approached in a cloud of dirt. When it drew nearer, Seif saw that it was an old pickup truck. The road was narrow, and Seif expected his driver to pull to the side, but he continued going forward much faster than was necessary.
Bracing himself, Seif tightened his grip on the handle when the car lurched to a stop directly in front of the truck. Dust swirled around the vehicles, both drivers remaining where they were, but it was not an impasse.
A man jumped out of the back of the truck and started toward their car. The door at Seif’s side was yanked open.
“Come,” the man in the cream galabeya commanded. The turban on his head extended over part of his face, exposing only his dark eyes.
Seif got out of the car and wiped his sweaty palms down the back of his jeans. He noticed the man eyeing his choice of clothing with contempt. In the city, Seif blended in, but out here his modern appearance made him stand out. The white car reversed, turning around before barreling back in the direction they had come from.
“Come.”
Seif looked around. The wadi stretched out before him, no sign of life or a way to cry for help should he need it. Heba’s pregnant form filled his mind, and Seif quieted his nerves. This was for his child.
He followed the man and was directed to climb into the bed of the truck with him. Seif did as told and hung on for his life as the truck sped toward an unknown destination. He quickly realized why the man had his face covered as dirt and rocks flew into the air. Lifting the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth, Seif prayed once again that he had not misplaced his hope.
Unsure how much time had passed, Seif saw a village dotting the landscape in front of him. The truck slowed to a stop and everyone got out, leaving him to follow. A herd of camels chewed their cud near the small, corrugated metal homes. A trio of stray dogs barked at him while kids played a game of fútbol.
“Seif El-Deeb?”
“Naam.” Seif nodded at an older man with a long gray beard and a cane coming toward him. “Farag?”
He shook his head. “Your wife is pregnant? The baby is not well, yes?”
“Yes.”
