Caught Between Read online

  5.

  Just as the sun became hot, the Bedouin workers appeared.

  Ducharme called the team down from the tell to introduce the dark-skinned young men and assign them to different sections. Marya wiped the sweat from her eyes and surveyed the six Bedouin boys, no older than seventeen. They were wiry and thin, wearing loose shirts, pants, and plastic sandals, with headcloths on their heads. One of them, one of the smaller ones, appeared to be the leader; his name was Yusef and he communicated with Dr. Ducharme on behalf of the others.

  Luke nudged Marya forward. "I think your services might be needed."

  Marya stepped forward, and the Bedouin boys looked at her suspiciously. Yusef said in Arabic, "Now who's this?"

  Marya licked her lips. "My name is Marya," she managed in her pathetic Arabic.

  Yusef's eyebrows shot up and he grinned, revealing that he had most of his teeth. "She speaks Arabic! Brothers, they brought someone who speaks Arabic this year! Thank Allah!"

  Marya smiled. "I speak very little."

  "It's better than nothing," Yusef replied. He turned to Ducharme. "I will work with Marya this year," he stated.

  Ducharme looked to Marya for a translation, and Marya felt her cheeks grow warm. "He wants to work with me."

  Ducharme sighed. "That's fine. Tell Yusef to have the others follow me."

  "Yusef," Luke said warmly. "Good to see you again."

  Yusef chuckled and thumped Luke on the back. "Luke! You've returned again, eh? As I said last year, you are an honorary Jordanian."

  Luke laughed but didn't ask Marya to translate. They climbed back into their pit and began breaking rocks that blocked their attempts to dig. After slipping on protective goggles and gloves, Luke and Yusef took turns swinging a sledgehammer against the obstinate boulders. Despite his small frame, Yusef was deceptively strong. Marya stood on the edge of the pit, watching them work. Luke had rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt, and the muscles of his arms, shoulders and back strained and flexed as he swung, glistening with sweat.

  "An attractive man, that Luke." Marya jumped at the sound of Yusef's voice. She found the young Bedouin smiling at her knowingly, and she flushed. "All these Canadian women favor him," Yusef continued, waving his hand. "And the Jordanian girls too!"

  Luke paused, breathing heavily. He looked over at Marya. "Is he talking about me?"

  "Nope," Marya answered without hesitation.

  "I am jealous," Yusef continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, "especially if the beautiful Marya favors him as well."

  "I do not," Marya answered carefully.

  Yusef squinted at her. "Hmm," he said. "I don't think you are being truthful."

  "Yusef," Luke called, pulling off his goggles. He held out the sledgehammer. "Your turn." As Yusef began hammering at the rock, Luke leaned against the edge of the pit, near Marya. "He's not giving you a hard time, is he?"

  "No, he's just being a teenage boy," Marya answered.

  He drank deeply from a bottle of water, and Marya fixed her eyes on the horizon. The question was on the tip of her tongue: Where did you go last night? But she said nothing, for fear he might think she was watching him.

  The rest of the day passed much like the one before, and in the blink of an eye dusk was upon them. As Amy left to attend Ducharme's lecture, Marya looked around restlessly, wondering if Luke would invite her to smoke shisha on the patio again. She had enjoyed it, despite Liz's occasional looks. When she didn't see him, she wandered out to the patio to find the same group already there.

  Luke smiled and waved her over. "Just so you know, we're always here after seven," he said, winking at her. As Marya pulled up a chair, Liz looked away, clearly not pleased with Marya's presence but determined to appear as though she didn't care.

  Around nine, Luke yawned, making the same comment about the hour and having to get up early. Marya went back to the hostel and got in bed, saying goodnight to Amy and the other girls. When an hour had nearly passed and the hostel was quiet, Marya slipped back into her clothes, strapped on her purse, and quietly went outside. She sat against the outside wall of the hostel, around the corner where passers-by wouldn't see her.

  I am completely crazy for doing this.

  Just as she was about to give up and return to bed, she heard the gravel crunching. Her heart raced as she peered past the bushes and watched Luke make his way down the hill to the gate. She waited until she was sure he wouldn't hear her, then began to follow him. She didn't want him to see her, but wouldn't have been upset if he did. In a way, he'd given her an excuse to escape ACMER and an excuse to spend time with him.

  Why do you need an excuse to spend time with him? Why do you want to spend time with him? The answers evaded her, troubled her. She wasn't normally attracted to guys like him. She was attracted to the sensitive types, the smart types... the nerds, if she was being completely honest with herself. The guys who oozed with confidence and charm just annoyed her.

  And yet, Luke somehow straddled both worlds. The girls chased after him, but he was also smart and getting a Ph.D in archaeology, of all things. He looked like the kind of guy parents feared their daughters would bring home, but his looks were deceiving.

  I'm intrigued, that's all.

  She reached the street and saw him strolling down the sidewalk, a dark shadow now. There were people about, and so Marya followed, keeping a safe distance. If he got into a cab, she'd lose him. But so far, he was just walking.

  Her eyes were focused on Luke, but she didn't miss the fact that Amman was teeming with life. Like the Damascus of her memory, the city came alive at night. Children ran and played on the sidewalks, their parents unfazed by the late hour; kebab stalls perfumed the air with the scent of roasted meat; people sat at small cafes along the street, sipping thick Arabic coffee. Marya struggled to keep sight of Luke as they walked further into downtown Amman. Many shops were still open, many merchants still hawking their wares. There was so much to see, so much to take in.

  She was nearly distracted by a shop of colored glass lamps when she saw Luke turn into a narrow alley. She picked up her pace, afraid to lose him. The street was narrow and smelled of manure. Ahead, everything was dark and quiet, doors and windows shut. It looked to be a dead end. A stray cat scampered across her feet, startling her.

  Where did he go?

  "Marya Helwe." She squealed and spun around, a hand on her heart. Luke stood against the wall behind her, hidden in the shadows. His jaw was tensed, but his eyes were curious. "Why are you following me?" he asked softly.

  She waited until her heart stopped racing to answer him. "I saw you leave last night. I was... curious."

  He took a step forward. "You know what they say about curiosity. The cat and all that." He pulled a cigarette and lighter from his satchel, lighting up casually. She noticed the black-checkered headcloth, the keffiyeh, draped around his neck. A fashion statement? Or a political one?

  For some reason, she was getting nervous again. After all, what did she know about Edward Lucas Marshall? And now he looked downright dangerous, taking the hoodlum thing to new levels. "Is that a threat?" Marya said as calmly as possible.

  He blew a stream of smoke from his mouth and smiled. "A warning. It isn't safe for you to be wandering alone in the city at night."

  "You're doing it," Marya shot back.

  "I'm a guy. And not one afraid of a fight, either. Here, come with me." He led her out of the alleyway and to a tiny cafe across the street. They sat down at a plastic table and Luke ordered some tea. He finished his cigarette and squashed it in the ashtray on the tabletop.

  "If you're going to sneak out of ACMER and wander around Amman, there are a few things you should know," he said, rummaging in his satchel. He pulled out a small Canadian flag and passed it to her. "Put this on your bag, or backpack, or whatever. In clear sight. If anyone asks, you're a Canadian, eh? Not a good time to be an American in the Middle East."

  Marya fingered the cheap cloth, tracing the red maple leaf.
"Um, okay."

  His eyes darted over her, assessing. "It'd be smart to cover your hair when you're out and about, but I know how you American ladies feel about that."

  She shrank away from his scrutiny, suddenly bashful. "I'll do it for safety. Whatever." The waiter brought their tea, and Luke poured her a cup. Some of her boldness returned, and she said, "So you still haven't told me why you snuck out."

  He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "What if I told you I just wanted to escape, walk around alone for a bit?"

  Marya shrugged. "I'd say that sounds like a great idea. And then I'd ask if you wanted some company." She smiled at him hopefully.

  The amusement in his eyes all but disappeared and he pursed his lips. "No."

  She tightened her arms around her middle, feeling like he'd punched her in the gut. Looking down, she said, "Oh. Okay."

  "It's not you, Marya. I just need to be alone."

  "No, that's fine. I understand." She knew she sounded hurt; it was practically dripping from her voice. She stood, her chair scraping against the ground. "I should get back. We'll be up in a few hours, after all." She added, "Thanks for the tea."

  She pulled some Jordanian dinars from her purse and hailed a cab. Before climbing in, she glanced back at the cafe, where she and Luke had been sitting.

  He was gone.

  ***

  Luke took a long drag from his cigarette, his third of the night. His eyes were fixed on the old door just a few steps down the alley. It was easy to miss, since it hardly looked like a door at all -- what was underneath the nailed planks and graffiti may once have been quite beautiful. Cedar wood carved into intricate flourishes and painted blue, he thought. A shame.

  He heard voices and looked to his left. Two young men strolled passed, paying him no attention. Luke exhaled slowly, stubbing out his cigarette. Marya has made me jumpy. He shook his head. He still couldn't believe she'd followed him. Of course, she had no way of knowing she was putting herself in danger. But still -- the girl had some balls. It made him like her even more.

  He scowled. He didn't mind being attracted to her. Attraction, he could handle. But actually liking her? That wasn't good. Not for him, not for her.

  The door opened with a groan. Luke straightened, his heart beat faster. A bearded man in a black leather jacket looked out, nodded to Luke. Here goes. He went in behind the man, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. The door was shut and barred behind him. People were crammed inside -- men mostly, but there were women too. A British journalist sitting on a stool, a French photographer talking to a woman in the corner. It smelled of smoke and sweat and garlic, and Luke was dizzy for a second.

  The man in the leather jacket, Ahmed, gestured to a chair around a table of men, all bearded and smoking. Luke sat and greeted each of the men in turn. Syrian exiles, most of them, their faces hardened with pain. Ahmed spoke in Arabic. "Marshall, what can you bring us?"

  Luke spoke quickly. "Assault rifles, sniper rifles, hand grenades, and night vision goggles." He paused. "I can get some cell phones, radios, and transmitters, too, if given more time."

  Ahmed squeezed Luke's shoulder. "My friend, may God protect you. You can have until the end of the month. We will be crossing the border into Syria then."

  "I want to come with you," Luke said.

  The men exchanged looks. "Why?" one of them asked.

  Luke traced a crack on the tabletop with his forefinger. "I have friends in Damascus. They need me."

  Ahmed rubbed his chin. "It would be safer for you to go in alone. Why come with us?"

  "Because I want to help you, Ahmed," Luke insisted. "Let me be a part of this. Let me fight alongside you."

  One of the other men shook his head slowly. Ahmed said, "We must think on it."

  "Then think on it," Luke said, pushing back in his chair. "I'll be back tomorrow night. I'll be bringing some of the things you need."

  Ahmed led Luke to the door. As Luke stepped out, Ahmed said, "Go with God, Marshall."

  Luke looked back at him with a nod. "Think on it, Ahmed."

  6.

  "Can you believe I found an almost entirely intact figurine?"

  It was break time under the sweltering heat, and Marya was polishing off her second meat pastry. Amy wouldn't shut up about her figurine. Marya admitted she was jealous -- two weeks into the excavation and Amy's team had found something important, while Marya and Luke were finding nothing but rocks. Big rocks. Rocks that needed to be smashed so that she and Luke could continue to dig.

  On the upside, Marya got to watch Luke heave a sledgehammer several times a day. On the downside, Luke had rejected her. And it still hurt.

  It's not like he's running off with Liz. He wants to be alone. Don't be such a baby about it.

  Still, her heart wouldn't see reason. If he'd wanted to be around her, he'd be around her. It was that simple. And it killed her that his attention mattered to her, that she wanted him to pay attention to her.

  "...believes that it represents the god Hadad, who was often depicted as a four-legged animal," Amy was saying excitedly.

  "A bull," Marya said. "I know. It's super exciting." Normally, Marya would find it super exciting.

  "And I was the one who found it," Amy stressed. "Me. It was under my pick, not Shannon's. Don't let her tell you otherwise."

  "Okay," Marya said with a sigh. "Hey Amy, can I ask you something and will you promise to keep your voice down and not be obvious about it?"

  Amy's eyes lit up. "Of course."

  Marya leaned into her, barely whispering. "Is something going on between Luke and Liz?"

  Amy blinked. "Um, well, the rumor is that they're... you know."

  Marya felt her blood boil. "No, I don't know. Explain."

  "They've been coming here for a couple summers now, so they've known each other a while," Amy whispered. "The rumor is that they get together over the summer, like summer flings or something. But then she goes back to Toronto and he goes back to New York."

  "Okay. I get it." Marya couldn't stop the plunging feeling of her heart.

  "There's a story about them from their first summer," Amy continued, smiling devilishly. "They were, you know, making out in the lab, and Felicity walked in on them. Margot was totally scandalized and made up those rules about no guys in the girls hostel and vice versa."

  "Back to work!" Ducharme ordered, clapping her hands. "Break time is over."

  Marya never thought she'd be so happy to hear those three words. As she made her way back up the tell, she thought she might vomit. She couldn't shake the image of Luke and Liz "making out" in the lab.

  Luke hopped into the pit and smiled and at her. "All energized and pumped to dig, Helwe?" He tightening the bandanna around his head and rubbed his palms together. "We've got rocks to pulverize!"

  Marya tugged the brim of her hat lower over her face and didn't answer. She resisted the urge to flick him off.

  As the blistering sun peaked in the sky, the team began to store the equipment and load the artifacts onto the bus. Marya noticed that Yusef and the other Bedouin boys had gathered near the bus, and Dr. Ducharme suddenly turned and said, "Attention, everyone, before you get on the bus."

  Marya raised her eyebrows at Yusef, who grinned back audaciously. She'd developed a rapport with the feisty Bedouin. He often got on her nerves, but had a good heart and meant well. She could tell he was up to something now. "The Bedouin have given us a gift," Ducharme announced, holding up a large, ripe watermelon. "We will cut into slices and pass it around, and every one of you must take a slice so as not to offend them."

  Yusef glared at Ducharme in confusion as she cut into the fruit, revealing its juicy red flesh. Marya took a slice and stifled a smile. Ducharme was treating Yusef like a National Geographic special, and he was getting annoyed. He muttered, "The watermelon wasn't for you. It was for Marya, you whore."

  Marya covered her mouth and looked away to keep from laugh
ing. Behind her, Luke sounded like he was choking. Marya glared at him as he coughed. "Watermelon went down the wrong pipe," he rasped, his face red and eyes watery.

  Amy's incessant talk about the figurine the whole ride back didn't bother Marya this time -- she wasn't listening. Rather, she was puzzling over why Luke would pretend not to understand Arabic.

  He'd understood Yusef, she was sure of it.

  She stared at Amy, her eyes glazed over. Maybe he wanted to avoid the extra work that came with translating. But that didn't seem like him -- he obviously enjoyed what he did and worked hard enough to earn Ducharme's favor. So why would he deny knowing the language? Knowing Arabic could only work to his advantage in this field.

  Unless he had something to hide.

  Liz giggled girlishly from the back of the bus. Marya wanted to look back at them but resisted. Was he manufacturing mystery? Maybe he liked the attention. Maybe there was nothing to any of it, and she was just being a silly girl with an obsessive crush. She needed to snap out of her Luke-induced haze and focus on the real reason she was here -- to become an archaeologist.

  She managed to stay focused on work throughout the rest of the afternoon. As the group wrapped up for the evening, Marya wondered if joining the others for shisha on the patio was a good idea. Maybe she should skip it tonight as part of her "Luke detox" program. She stood in the foyer of the ACMER building, biting her lip and considering, when Felicity pulled her from her thoughts.

  "Marya, you have company," Felicity said with a disapproving sigh. Marya smelled Ash before she saw him standing at the door, his hands in his pockets. Cedar wood and lemon. He grinned at her, his cheeks dimpling adorably.

  "Hello, love," he said. "I thought I'd drop by. Is it a bad time?"

  She beamed and rushed to him. Before she'd completely thought it through, she'd thrown her arms around him. "Ash! It's so good to see you."

  He chuckled softly in her ear. "Wow, you are happy to see me. A better reception than I could have hoped for." He ran his hands down her back gently. The gesture was strangely intimate, and Marya snapped back to reality. She pulled away, her face hot.