- Home
- Rachael Sircar
Given New Worlds Page 20
Given New Worlds Read online
Page 20
Once they circled the corner to where Abby’s borrowed Toyota was parked, Sean pulled her around and took her hands in his own. She had gotten used to the way the fingers of his right hand didn’t completely curl around hers. Instead she would lace her fingers through them, in an unusual, yet efficient hold. The deformity didn’t seem odd to her. It felt familiar and comfortable.
“Thank you for tonight,” Abby said.
“It’s been a weird night.”
Abby agreed.
“Ninth date,” Sean said.
“I know.”
He didn’t make a move, but Abby could feel the heat coming from his body. She backed up against the car and pulled him towards her. When her backside hit the door, he came down. Pressing his lips against her own, he ran his hand through the back of her hair and tilted her head. Then he trailed kisses along her cheek, down to her neck. Once again, he tugged at her hair, tipping her head the other way, and pressed kisses along the front of her chest to the other side of her neck.
His body crushed her own against the car door and she could feel his excitement against her stomach. “I don’t want to let you go,” he said. His lips now back to her mouth, diving in while Abby’s own accepted him, wanting more. His right hand trailed down to her skirt and caressed her thigh, disappearing under the thin, coral material, inching higher until she could feel him touching the edge of her panties.
Then, a flash of light jolted them like the shot of a cannon. They glanced toward the walkway of the garage and saw two of the men from the party laughing, holding a cell phone. Two more flashes followed, then a guttural, animal sound emanated from Sean’s throat. Abby watched his hand as it reached into his jacket.
“No, Sean. Don’t!”
But it was too late, he aimed and fired. The men ducked for cover while two more bullets ricocheted off the cement walls. It only took a third shot for them to run from the walkway towards partiers in the other side of the garage.
“Give me the keys,” Sean said to her, rage still spewing through his veins. He walked to the back of the car, kicked at the license plate several times, and ripped it off the screws, then turned back to where Abby stood frozen. She didn’t know how to respond. She could only stare at this man who had just shot at another human being like he’d only been holding a nerf gun.
“Give me the fucking keys. We need to leave. Now!”
Abby stepped back, but not before Sean ripped the purse from her arm and fumbled through it to find the key fob. He shoved Abby in the Toyota and they raced out of the garage before the angry mob behind them could get any more pictures.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
THEY drove for several miles before Abby realized that her voice had shut down again. She wanted him to pull over, to let her escape from the madman driving the car, the madman that had once been the love of her life, but Sean was on a mission. She could see by the direction of the car that he was headed towards her apartment, but she would rather be on a bus.
“I have a few guys that can do media control. They’ll keep their eyes peeled. You need to contact your parents to let them know.”
Contact her parents? No. What would she say? How would they react to the fact that Sean was here in Nairobi with her? He didn’t seem worried about the call. His focus was on driving - and the ramifications of that photo.
Abby tried to calculate the chances that anything would come of it. The guy would probably show a couple of his friends. The percentage increased tenfold if he put it on social media. And if they managed to get a picture of Sean shooting the gun? Abby rubbed her face in a silent groan.
A slam of the brakes jerked her hands away from her face to the dashboard. Her seatbelt locked up and sent rivulets of pain through her chest. She watched Sean out of the corner of her eye as he maneuvered around the slow traffic to another lane. He was feeling no pain, only a mania that she couldn’t fathom. His words were filled with expletives as he shouted at the other drivers, his face a mottled red, his hand gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. Was this the man she wanted to be with? Was this the man she wanted to blend new worlds with?
They began to slow to a stoplight behind another car and Sean screamed in outrage, his veins pulsating in his neck, his eyes burning with anger. Abby felt her fight or flight instinct kick in. She knew she couldn’t fight, not without a voice. So, she chose flight. Before the car had even stopped, she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and ran.
Her thoughts were scattered. She didn’t think about where she was going. She didn’t dare think about the picture the man in the garage had taken. She had to think less soul-jarring things that wouldn’t tear her soul out of her body in fright.
She thought about what she would do if Sean crashed Oyana’s sister’s car. She and her family wouldn’t be back from Mozambique for another month. Abby could dip into her gargantuan savings, purchase them a sensible new Toyota, and apologize for the inconvenience.
Then, she thought about how the straps of her heels were cutting into her ankles. She would have been better off running in the ice skates.
After that, she thought about the loud, illuminated late-night market down the road. Perfect to get lost in. She stepped around the corner and immersed herself in the bright colors of fabric, fruit, and shoppers. It was close to midnight and the stalls were beginning to close up, but it gave Abby time to browse and think.
“Sister Jamie?”
She turned and saw a woman covered with scar tissue and keloids. Her jaw was repaired but would never look the same. “Ayubu?”
Abby automatically reviewed the visible scarring and expected the same would be present on the rest of her body. She didn’t want to picture Ayubu’s pelvic region, it had been almost unbearable to think about what her husband had done to her. “How are you feeling? Is your aunt still taking care of you?”
Ayubu’s smile disappeared and she glanced over her shoulder at a leather vendor arguing with a shopper about the price of his belts. “It that your husband?” Abby asked, motioning to the vendor.
Ayubu didn’t answer, but Abby knew. “Tell me the truth. Is he still hurting you?” Abby had trouble with the translation into Swahili, but Ayubu seemed to understand. Her eyes flicked for an instant, ensuring that her husband was still deep in conversation and then nodded with the telltale frightful eyes that indicated she was once again a victim of abuse.
“Not very much,” she defended him. “He is a good man. He makes good money. I will go to school.”
Abby knew it was a lie. Ayubu’s husband would never allow her to take classes. He wanted her under his thumb at all times. Abby watched as the man’s dark eyes searched for his wife. When he found her talking to Abby, they narrowed in suspicion. She needed to assure him that his wife wasn’t doing anything she wasn’t supposed to, in order to help her avoid a beating that evening.
When the man was done arguing with the customer, Abby approached him. “Hello, I’m Dr. Poser,” she lied, “one of the surgeons that operated on your wife after her accident. I see that you’ve been taking excellent care of her and I’d like to thank you.”
Ayubu’s husband eyed her suspiciously, then a plastic smile appeared on his face and he decided to acknowledge her. “I am Keambiroiro. You speak our language very good. But you are from America?”
Abby wasn’t sure where he was going with it. She needed to tread carefully. “I live here now,” she said, not acknowledging the America question. “How much for these shoes, brother?” Abby asked. The beaded leather sandals looked more comfortable than the heels she was currently wearing. She needed to get a feel for this man, to find out more about his personality, before she made a move with Ayubu. Made a move? What in the world could she do? She’d just jumped out of a car to escape a madman, only to end up in an open-air market with another. What in the world could she possibly do for Ayubu?
But this man, he was no Sean. It wasn’t just anger and fear that ran in this man’s eyes. Ayubu’s husband radiated pur
e evil. Abby’s fingers longed to reach forward and scratch out his eyes, tear out his heart, and destroy him.
As much as she wanted to take revenge for Ayubu, it wasn’t her place. God would take care of it. Part of Abby’s self-perception wondered if it was her own revenge she wanted to take. The man that had carved the word into her back would never be found, but another man, just as capable of violence and pain was standing right in front of her.
He crossed his arms as she paid for the sandals, the plastic smile sitting idly as thoughts churned in his eyes. Without further conversation, he turned to Ayubu. “Get the truck. We are packing up here.”
Ayubu jumped at the sound of his voice and immediately fished keys out of her pocket, then walked swiftly away without another word.
Abby nodded politely to Keambiroiro and walked the opposite way of Ayubu’s direction. Once she turned the corner, Abby switched her heels for the sandals and ran to the parking area behind the market. She saw Ayubu just as she was unlocking the truck.
“Sister!” Abby called to her. “Please stop. You can’t go back with him.”
Ayubu sighed. “It is not an easy situation. I have no money. No means by which to live. He is the only thing keeping me from starving. Now that I am disfigured and cannot have children, no man will want me.”
“You don’t need a man.”
Ayubu stood by the door and placed her hands on her hips. “You do not understand how it is for a woman here. You are American. Women in America can do whatever they want. They have freedom.”
“Not all women,” Abby muttered to herself, then held her hand out. “Let me help you, sister.”
“What can you do for me?”
“I will help you go to school.”
Ayubu paused, playing gingerly with the keys in her hand. “Why?”
“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act.” Abby didn’t know if she succeeded in translating the Proverb to Swahili, but Ayubu was moved. Tears were in her eyes, and she had to lean against the door of the truck for support. “Come with me now. Before he discovers that you’re gone. We’ll take the matatu to my apartment.”
A wind whipped oily dust from the ground of the parking area, swirling them both in its grasp. Within its whisper, Abby prayed to the God that sent it, asking for his divine guidance for the woman standing in front of her.
Ayubu stepped back and opened the truck door. “We will take my truck.”
“Your truck?” Abby asked. Tears of relief stroked her anguished soul and threatened to appear in her eyes, but not wanting to add any more emotion to the already challenging evening, Abby forced them away, into the little compartment that held thoughts to be addressed on sleepless nights.
“This truck belonged to my father. Now my husband has claimed it for his own. But tonight, we will use it.”
Thirty minutes later, they parked the truck in an alley and walked another mile to the apartment.
Oyana’s sister’s car wasn’t on the street, so Abby assumed Sean was still looking for her. She felt guilty but seeing Ayubu’s injuries only confirmed her fear that men could be violent, vicious creatures. Sean had shot at the man in the parking garage. What if he’d killed him? She tried not to think about the consequences.
They stepped quietly into the apartment, knowing that the other women were likely four hours into their sleep. Abby took a soda out of the cabinet for Ayubu and poured it into a cup. “You can sleep with me tonight. Tomorrow we’ll see about school.”
“My husband will search for me,” Ayubu said. The reality of the situation was clearly beginning to envelope her and Abby could see fear on her face. “He will remember you talking to me. The hospital will be the first place he will look.”
Abby thought about it. She was right, Keambiroiro didn’t seem like the kind of man to stand aside and let her go. Especially if she took the truck. “We’ll talk to Dr. Otieno. Perhaps he knows of a place you can stay, somewhere safe.”
“You can stay at my sister’s.” Oyana must have been listening in from the bedroom. She walked in and sat next to Ayubu at the table. “You were at the hospital. I remember you.”
“Oyana, this is Ayubu. She’s going to stay with us tonight.”
“And we will go to my sister’s house tomorrow,” Oyana said, placing her hand on Ayubu’s trembling shoulder. “You’ll be safe there.”
Ayubu pressed her head into her hands. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this for me?”
“You are a child of God,” Oyana said. “Wouldn’t you do the same for one of us?”
“I don’t know if I would.”
They talked for another hour, then crawled into bed. It was a tight fit on the small bunk, but Abby didn’t mind. She felt empowered, like she had another purpose besides being the communications director of a small Kenyan hospital. It felt good.
“Who are these people?” Ayubu yawned, staring at the picture taped to the underside of the bunk.
It was reassuring that Ayubu didn’t recognize her in the photo. Had she really changed that much? “Abigail Ellwood and Sean Court,” she whispered. “From back in the United States.”
But Ayubu didn’t hear her. She was already asleep.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
THE next morning, Abby looked out the window and saw the Toyota parked in front of the apartment.
“He’s gone,” Oyana said as she sat at the kitchen table drinking her morning coffee. “He arrived at five-thirty. You were sleeping.”
“How did you know?”
“I was awake, worried about Ayubu. I saw the car pull up and went out to talk with him.”
Abby was glad it had been Oyana. She wasn’t ready to speak to Sean yet.
“He is very sorry for his actions.”
“Did he tell you what happened.”
“He said he was angry. Too angry. He is not going to contact you, unless you desire it. He left this. It is a gift from him.” She pushed a cell phone towards Abby.
She picked up the phone and saw that there was a text message. Abby hadn’t used a cell phone in so long. It seemed foreign to her. The message was from Sean.
I’m sorry.
Abby set the phone down and poured a cup of coffee. “Ayubu is still sleeping.”
“She is somewhere safe. Her body will use that time fully. Let her sleep. I will take her to my sister’s house this afternoon.”
“You have to work today,” Abby pointed out. “I’ll drive her to the house, then will come back on Monday morning before work.”
Oyana nodded her head.
Before leaving for work, the women all went through their clothing to find outfits that would fit Ayubu, then Abby checked over her scarring while the others walked to the hospital. Her wounds weren’t healing properly, and she would need another surgery, but Abby didn’t want to break the news to her. Ayubu had enough to deal with right now.
“We should go now. He may come looking for you.” Abby told her.
They took both vehicles, Abby driving the Toyota, while Ayubu took the truck. Before leaving the city limits, Abby filled the gas tank of the truck and purchased groceries at a supermarket.
They arrived at the house as the sun was setting. Ayubu had dark circles under her eyes that continuously scanned the unfamiliar world around her. In comfort to each other, they latched hands as they walked towards the small farmhouse. “We’ll pray that God watches over you,” Abby said.
Surprisingly large for a house on the outskirts of rural Nairobi, it had a living room with a pocket kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. Recalling that Oyana’s brother-in-law was someone important with a logistics company in Mozambique, she also remembered the story about his struggle to reconnect with his family after two years out of town. Abby saw a family picture on the wall above the sink in the kitchen. A man, a woman, and two children. On the woman’s lap was a baby. Umoja - unity.
Abby thought about Sean, and she thought about Keambiroiro. How could
a person know if it was worth it? If she went back to Sean, would she end up happy like Oyana’s sister? Or would she end up beaten and hollow, like Ayubu? There was no answer. She needed to rely on God.
They spent the next hour cleaning dust from furniture and placing food in cabinets. The sun was setting when they finished, but they were able to find time to look through the garden and pick okra and kale for dinner. Abby didn’t know what she was doing, but Ayubu was able to show her which vegetables were worth picking and which ones to toss. When sounds of vehicles or voices filtered through the soft Kenya winds, they would duck back into the house, worried that Keambiroiro had come for them.
They didn’t talk about the problems that loomed so heavily in their hearts. Forcing themselves to only enjoy each other’s company, they were able to make it a pleasant evening, yet Abby knew they would both be suffering through memories in the night hours. There were no windows in the children’s room and both of them were too nervous to take a chance that someone could see them from the exterior of the house, so they shared the bed in there.
Abby slept fitfully at first, but after several hours, her eyes refused to close at all. So many thoughts about so many things pecked at her. Not wanting to wake Ayubu, Abby opted to sit on the front porch as if keeping watch would settle her nerves. On the way to the front door, she passed by the cell phone Sean had given her. It stared at her from the kitchen table, taunting her. She didn’t want to pick it up. She would have preferred to live in ignorance, but Oyana had the phone number now as well as Sean, and surely, she would be wondering if they’d settled in okay.
Hesitantly picking up the phone, Abby stepped out into the breeze of a Kenyan April. There was a hint of ozone in the air, and she wondered how long before the rain was sent down. The rocking chair was surprisingly comfortable. If she could only get her mind to settle and stop worrying about whether or not Keambiroiro was able to track them down, perhaps she would get tired enough to go back inside and sleep.