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First chapter of a book depicting the life of a group of missionaries in Morocco. |
Where is he? Derrick leaned against the brick building, keeping his eye on his surroundings. Hashim was late. They were supposed to meet at 9:00 am. It was now 9:30 am. Even though Moroccan custom usually tended to run late, Hashim rarely followed custom. Derrick smiled grimly to himself. No, Hashim was anything but the typical Moroccan. Perhaps that’s why the two were drawn together so quickly. It just seemed natural that Hashim become Derrick’s best friend among the natives of this land. Derrick looked at his watch again, growing more concerned than impatient. Hashim prided himself on punctuality, and if he was ever late, it meant something was not right at home. He would wait 15 more minutes, and then leave. He had much other business to attend to today, and knew from experience that when Hashim was experiencing problems with family, the best – and only – thing he could do was pray. Derrick’s eyes scanned the marketplace, picking up the sights, sounds and smells he had grown to love over the last 5 years. There was the carpet salesmen, who made their own carpets and hung them with pride. Then there were the men who sold leather goods, also hand crafted. In the busy marketplace, you could buy almost anything you could ever need or want – and for just about any price you wanted to pay. Moroccans were known barterers, and loved to rip foreigners off. Derrick learned this the hard way, several times, when he first arrived to the country. But over the years, the local merchants had come to know Derrick, and had also come to respect his bartering skills. Even though Derrick still often requested the “Moroccan price” for many goods, the merchants were usually very fair with their prices. Derrick let his eyes rest on a man selling scarves. Perhaps I should buy one to welcome our new worker. It would ease the tension that is bound to happen ... after all, I’m a stranger to her and she will be entering a very strange land. He smiled grimly. Why was he deemed the one appropriate to escort this new worker from Tangier? That meant he would have to take several days away from his work. What if something went wrong with the computers while he was away? What if Hashim needed him? Thinking of Hashim brought a frown to Derrick’s dark face. Where is he? He thought again. It was past the 15 minutes ... and Derrick needed to move on. He scanned the market crowd again. Ahh, there he is! Hashim was headed Derrick’s way, in an obvious hurry, but looking annoyed and frazzled. Not only that, but also scared, flushed and nervous. Hashim made eye contact briefly, and flicked his fingers in the direction of the alley to Derrick’s right. This meant something was wrong, and that their meeting would be very short. Derrick came to full attention, immediately moving to the right while keeping an eye on Hashim. This kind of meeting was rarely good, and Derrick’s military training took over, giving him a slightly menacing look to anyone who didn’t know him. He’d been a SEAL in the Navy for 4 years. Although many aspects of that time in his life were better left in the past, he was always grateful for his training in stealth, strength and stamina. Derrick pulled from these resources now, moving quickly and quietly through the crowd to the alley. “Shalom, my friend,” Hashim said, in a voice barely discernible amongst the noises of the market. “Shalom, my friend,” Derrick replied, holding out his hand. The men shook hands, then moving their fists to cover their hearts, as was a typical Moroccan greeting between men. “Our time must be brief. There is problem at home,” Hashim said, keeping his eyes on the alley entrance, while trying to look casual and unconcerned. “Tell me what happened,” Derrick replied, leaning his shoulder against the wall, copying Hashim’s casual pose. Unfortunately, Derrick was anything but casual. All of his muscles were on alert, and the tension had already given him the start of a headache. “My father is not a happy man. He does not understand this friendship between us.” Hashim looked at Derrick, frowning. “He believes you are infidel, stealing his son from a long line of businessmen.” Hashim looked away. “He does not understand this friendship.” “What happened today, Hashim? Do you need help?” “No.” Hashim looked at the ground, and remained silent for several seconds. “I came only to tell you that we must not meet for a while. My father knows that I am curious about your Jesus. He is not happy.” “Did he beat you?” “No.” “Are you telling me the truth, Hashim?” “Yes. My father is angry, but he did not beat me this time. He said, ‘Hashim, you are a man. It is time you went to training, just as I did when I became a man. I have kept you home to help with the family, but on your birthday, you will go to training. There will be no more talk of the infidels, and I will not stand for talk of this Jesus in our house.’ My father is not a happy man,” Hashim repeated for a third time. “Your birthday is in 6 months time, correct?” Derrick stated, thinking out loud. “Yes, my friend.” Hashim’s voice wavered. “I do not want to go to training.” Derrick glanced around, and seeing no one in the alley, placed his hand gently on Hashim’s shoulder. “You will not go to training if you do not want to go. We’ll figure something out.” Squeezing briefly, Derrick let go, resuming his casually tense stance. A small smile crossed Hashim’s face. “I am not sure about your Jesus, Derrick. But I am sure about you. I will believe your words.” Standing upright, Hashim visibly shook himself. “Now tell me quickly of your day, and I must take my leave.” “Well, after we part ways, I’m going to buy a scarf for a new worker we have coming in this week. Then I have a meeting with my boss. After that, I will take the train to Tangier, pick her up, and escort her back here.” Derrick smiled at the interest in Hashim’s eyes, and chuckled quietly. “Don’t get any ideas, Hashim.” Hashim grinned. “She is American, yes?” At Derrick’s smile, Hashim winked. “Perhaps this American woman is for you?” he commented, and seeing Derrick’s eyes narrow, matched his quiet chuckle. “Perhaps Allah has finally smiled on you, old man. This woman will be your wife someday, yes? Why else would Allah bring her here alone?” Derrick gave a short laugh, and shook his head. “It doesn’t work quite that way in our country, Hashim. I’ve never met this woman, and just because she’s alone does not mean she’s looking for a husband, or that I will be attracted to her.” “It is not good for a woman to travel alone. It is good that you are going to meet her. Forgive me, friend, for teasing you.” Hashim glanced at his watch, and began to back away. “I must leave. My father does not know of this meeting, and it is best he does not find out about it. Have a safe trip. Perhaps, if I can arrange it, this new woman will be able to meet my sister.” Derrick straightened, watching his friend back away. “Be careful, Hashim. And keep thinking about the things we’ve talked about. I will return in a few days. And yes, your sister will always be welcome. Bring her next time and she will be able to meet the new worker.” “I will think more on this Jesus you speak of,” Hashim said, as was his custom at the end of every meeting with Derrick. He placed his fist over his heart. “Until next time, Derrick,” he said, turned, and moved quickly from the alley, and blended back into the crowd of the market place. Derrick remained in the alley for several minutes, thinking and praying. Father, I don’t understand what is taking Hashim so long to accept Your love for him. Please continue to give me patience. Be with him today, Father. I sense that he is so close, but that his father is holding him back. Perhaps his sister will be the leverage we need, Lord. I pray for her as well, Lord. She needs you too. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Derrick mentally released the tension he was feeling from the brief meeting. Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see that it was almost time for his meeting with Geoff. First the scarf. *** “Where have you been, D?” Geoff asked as Derrick hurried into the house. “Hashim had problems and was late. We had a brief meeting, and then I bought a scarf for our new worker.” Geoff cocked an eyebrow, grinning broadly. “Already working the charm, and you haven’t even met her,” he said, shaking his head. “Hoping to make this one your wife, D?” Both eyebrows zinged up at Derrick’s derisive snort. “Hashim said the same thing. I don’t know the woman, and don’t plan on knowing her other than her role as my sister in Christ and co-worker. You know my history, and I’m not inclined to repeat it.” He threw Geoff an angry look. “So leave it alone.” Geoff laughed, and then laughed harder at Derrick’s dark look. “Give it a rest, D. You really need to lighten up!” Derrick grumbled to himself, but made a deliberate attempt to brighten his countenance. “Give me details, and I’ll be on my way.” Still smiling, but all business, Geoff took a seat at the table, motioning Derrick to do the same. “First tell me about your visit with Hashim.” Sighing, and suddenly weary, Derrick sat down. He was no longer a soldier, and tension like what he experienced moments ago always wore him out. He would appreciate a long nap before traveling today, but knew he would have opportunity to sleep on the train. The nap could wait a few hours. “Hashim’s father is not a happy man,” Derrick said, echoing his friend’s comment. “Hashim told me that his father has decided to send him to training.” Derrick nodded at Geoff’s look of concern. “Yeah, I know. We have to do something to keep that from happening. Once he goes to training, we’ll lose him forever. It’s a miracle we haven’t lost him already, considering his father’s attitude about us.” “God’s grace and favor are the only things keeping us in the boy’s life. Remember that, Derrick.” Geoff was silent for a moment, thinking. “We need to pray hard. Hashim is close to accepting Jesus, and I don’t believe for a second that Jesus will let him go.” “The question is, will Hashim’s father let him go?” “Well, son, the ultimate question is…is Hashim’s father more powerful than God?” “Okay, okay. You’re right. Pray hard.” Derrick chuckled. “You always have an answer, old man.” “Yes, and the answer is always the right one!” Geoff said, laughing. “Pray, Derrick. You are in Hashim’s life for a reason, and God has shown me in many prayer times over the boy that Hashim will be part of our family. Don’t give up.” Geoff stood up and left the room, muttering something about paperwork. Derrick smiled. The old man was such a character. He frequently dropped a conversation without notice to move onto something else. Even though he was slightly scatterbrained, Geoff was a brilliant man of God. Derrick’s respect for Geoff couldn’t get any deeper. Geoff was like the father Derrick never had, and his love for the old man was full and rich. “Here it is!” Geoff exclaimed from the next room. “Anne McLeod is her name,” he continued, moving back into the room. Placing the paperwork on the table, he sat back down. “She’s an LPN. Isn’t that awesome? We need a nurse…just think of the fun we could have with that skill in our group!” Geoff’s eyes danced, thinking of the possibilities. “We can have doctors visit and set up clinics for the kids! We’ll give them band aids with cartoons on them!” “You’re crazy,” Derrick said with affection. “I like you, but you’re crazy.” Geoff laughed. “Whatever, Midget.” Derrick laughed at the nickname. Ever since he was introduced to Geoff, he’d been called “Midget” by the man. Geoff was 5’9”. Derrick was 6’2”. “Okay, so she’s 34 years old, with blond hair and blue eyes. She’s from Pennsylvania. Did her training in Hawaii, an outreach in Haiti.” Scanning her information, Geoff frowned. “Hmmm. Reason for coming to Morocco: ‘It’s hard.’ Interesting.” Geoff was silent a moment, reading through the rest of the general information. “Well, she’s cute,” he said, handing a photo to Derrick. “She arrived in Torremolinos two weeks ago, and has been briefed thoroughly.” He looked up at Derrick, and watched his perusal of the photo. Noticing Derrick’s frown, he cocked an eyebrow. “You alright, D?” Derrick shook his head as if to clear it. “Yeah, fine. Thought she looked familiar for a minute is all. Weird.” “Do you know her?” “Nope. Don’t recognize her. Maybe she just has one of those faces,” Derrick said, handing the photo back. “You keep the photo. You’ll need it to recognize her in Tangier.” Looking back down at the paperwork, Geoff said, “She’ll be taking the 3:00 ferry tomorrow. You’re to meet her as she comes off.” He looked back up at Derrick. “Do not let her be alone, D. You know how the men will react to her.” Derrick frowned, knowing all too well how Moroccan men reacted to a blonde, blue-eyed female. The last female worker they’d brought in lasted only one month before she left. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I bought the scarf,” he replied, holding up the garment. “I’ll show her how to wrap it, and we’ll hide her blonde hair at least. And I’ll warn her sufficiently.” “Alrighty then, Midget. Time for you to pack and go. You guys will have to stay the night in Tangier. I’ll give you money for two rooms. Make sure they are next to each other. Find a hotel with a western toilet. We don’t want to scare her off immediately,” he said grinning. A woman’s first experience with a squatty potty was rarely fun. Derrick stood, laughing. “Will do, Boss.” Holding out his hand to help Geoff up, he said, “I sure hope she’s not the California Barbie doll type. Being a nurse, she shouldn’t be, eh?” Geoff let Derrick pull him up, letting go and moving his fist to his heart. Derrick responded in kind. “She’s a nurse, Derrick, so I doubt she’s squeamish. But squatty potties can break even the most unsqueamish of women.” Geoff stretched, standing to his full height. “Now go pack a bag, take something for that headache, and get going. You have a ferry to meet.” “Yes, boss,” Derrick replied and left the room. Geoff knew him so well…he hadn’t even mentioned the headache. “This oughta be an adventure,” Geoff said to himself, chuckling. “Yes, this is going to be a wonderful adventure.” *** Derrick woke up, feeling the train slow down. Hearing the voice announcing their arrival to Tangier, he stretched and stood, pulling his bag down from the shelf of the cramped train car. It had been a long journey since leaving home. Derrick smiled. Home. Yes, Morocco was his home now. He loved this country and the people in it. Five years ago, he’d come here hoping to begin a new life. And a new life he had, full of fun and good times, but also sprinkled with hard circumstances. Remembering his first few weeks, he grimaced. Hopefully, Anne would not experience the sickness he had succumbed to upon first arriving in the country. Unfortunately, most did, as getting used to the water was the easiest way to get acclimated. It never failed to make even the strongest sicker than a dog. Derrick himself had been down for a week, lost 10 pounds, and spent another week recovering. Well, nothing to be done about it. She’ll have to acclimate, just like the rest of us. Derrick stepped from the train, taking a moment to get his bearings. He’d only been to the train station a couple times in the years since coming to Morocco. Tangier never failed to confuse him, even just a bit. Being a port city, Tangier was one of the busiest in Morocco, and the smells and sounds could really make a person dislike Morocco. Especially the smells, Derrick thought, wrinkling his nose. He’d never been able to put his finger on the source of that smell – raw sewage mixed with human waste and rotten eggs. He shuddered. Lovely Tangier. Derrick hailed a cab. “Ferry,” he said shortly. “Turn the meter on.” “12 dirham,” the cabbie replied. Refusing to turn the meter on was custom for dealing with a foreigner. “Turn the meter on, now,” Derrick stated, looking the cabbie in the eye without smiling. He loved this game they played, but refused to let the driver know that. “Now,” he repeated, sternly. Something in his face convinced the cabbie that there would be no cheating this ride. Sighing, the driver faced the wheel and turned his meter on. “12 dirham,” he said, more to have the last word than anything. But Derrick saw the small smile on the cabby’s face. Moroccan’s loved the game as much as he did. Derrick chuckled as the cabbie moved the car into traffic. Moroccan drivers were crazy. As the car zinged in and out of traffic, it seemed to Derrick that this driver was slightly crazier than most. It never ceased to amaze him how they could drive the way they did and not get themselves killed. Or kill others, Derrick thought, as they careened around a corner, almost taking out several pedestrians. Whizzing by, Derrick noticed that they were foreigners. He could see the shocked look on their faces. That’ll teach them. They arrived at the docks in no time. The cabbie turned to Derrick and said, with a note of triumph in his voice, “12 dirham!” Derrick smiled. “12 dirham, yes,” he said, handing the driver the money. He held up an extra 5 dirham. “Wait here?” he asked. The cabbie smiled, “Yes, wait here. You are good man.” Holding out his hand, the cabbie introduced himself. “Amir. Ismetech?” “Derrick,” he replied to the question, shaking the driver’s hand and putting his fist to his heart. The driver’s smile grew wider at Derrick’s display of custom. Amir’s fist patted his heart as well. “I will wait here, Derrick. No other rides.” “Thank you, Amir. I will return shortly with my sister,” Derrick said. Not really a lie, eh God? She’s my sister in You. Derrick left the car and moved with the crowd to the arriving ferry, taking the scarf with him. Here we go, God. This oughta be fun. By the time Derrick got near the dock, passengers were already disembarking. Taking Anne’s photo out, Derrick took one good long look at it, and put it away. He looked towards the dock, eyes scanning. He wanted to get to Anne before she got too far from the ferry. Where is she, he thought. The passengers were thinning out. Did I miss her? Keeping one eye on the exit of the ferry, and another eye on the crowd around him, Derrick began to grow concerned. A little help, God. Immediately, his attention was caught by a glimpse of very blonde hair. There she is. And she looks scared. Derrick moved quickly through the crowd. At 6’2”, he had a slight advantage on the Moroccans around him. As his eyes rested fully on Anne, he paused. Have I met her before, God? She seemed familiar in some way. As he moved closer, he racked his brain, trying to place her. Not able to, he moved to her side. “Anne.” Anne looked at Derrick, and tension visibly drained away. “Derrick?” she stated as a question. Not waiting for a reply, she stated, “You look Moroccan.” “Yes I know…it’s the black hair and beard. Blends me right in, except for my height.” Derrick held out his hand, looking Anne fully in the face. She’d grown pale. “Are you okay?” Assuming he knew the source of his distress, Derrick lowered his voice. “Listen, I know it can be overwhelming at first. Tangier is not the best place to acclimate to Morocco. Just take a deep breath.” Going against his better judgment, he put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched and jerked away. “Anne.” When she didn’t look at him, he raised his voice a bit and said her name more forcefully. Immediately, she looked him in the eye. “Take a deep breath.” Anne did as she was told. Her eyes were wide, and her face was very pale. (indent}“Another.” After she took another deep breath, Derrick broke eye contact and took her suitcase. She had a huge backpack on, but it didn’t seem to be heavy for her, so Derrick let her keep it on her back. Taking her elbow, he said softly, “Come on. I have a taxi waiting.” |