Chapter 10

Tim woke up much earlier than the day before. He showered, went down to have breakfast and then went back up to his room and sat, waiting for the arrival of Daniel Worthing. He was curious about what Daniel would look like. He was guessing someone who would easily fit in here. He thought about the name. Worthing was almost certainly an English surname. He had no trace of an English accent, meaning that he was likely American or very good at using an American accent.

The room phone rang and Tim hurried to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, ustāz. It is Ayoub from the front desk. There is a visitor here for you. Daniel Worthing?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you. I'll be right down."

Tim hung up and checked his room and his things, grabbed his passport and slipped it into a hidden pocket, tucked into his waistband. Then, he headed down to the lobby. When he got there, Ayoub was at the desk, and there was only one other person in the room. He was not a local. That much was obvious. He had bright red hair and pale, freckled skin. Was this Daniel Worthing?

He walked over.

"Daniel?" he asked, hesitantly.

The man looked up and his expression brightened. His eyes were a dark brown, the only thing that didn't fit. Otherwise, he looked like a stereotypical Irishman.

"Sabāh il-khayr, Timothy McGee!" he said. "I'm Daniel Worthing of Anqalaysūn Real Estate."

Tim noticed Ayoub smiling a little when he said the name. He looked back and saw that Daniel noticed as well.

"It's distinctive, isn't it?" he asked, grinning.

Ayoub nodded.

"What do you mean?" Tim asked.

"Ayoub finds my business name ridiculous...which it is, but it's supposed to be."

"What does it mean?"

"Eels."

"Eels?" Tim repeated.

"Yes. Eels. As in, my hovercraft is full of eels."

Tim laughed. "What?"

"Not a fan of Monty Python, I take it."

"Not enough, apparently."

"There's an episode where a man is traveling with a phrase book that has the sentence, 'my hovercraft is full of eels.' I figured it would be a unique business name. My English-speaking customers would just see an Arabic word and my Arabic-speaking customers would be intrigued...or at least confused."

"'aw masalā," Ayoub said, with a chuckle.

"'Īyeh," Daniel said, grinning. Then, he looked back at Tim. "Anyway, I have a reason for it, but yes, it's silly."

Tim couldn't help but smile back. Daniel was extremely personable.

"So, are you ready for a day of wandering around Marrakech?"

"Sounds great," Tim said.

"Mumtāz! Bismala, Ayoub!"

"Bismala," Ayoub said. "Have a nice day, sir."

Tim felt a little left out with all the Arabic flying around him. He decided to break out the little Arabic he knew.

"Shokran," he said.

Then, they left the hotel, and Tim realized he was going outside for the first time since he'd arrived in Morocco. He took a deep breath of the dry air.

"Jayyid jiddan, Tim! And here you had me thinking that you didn't know any Arabic."

"That's about all I know. I think I can ask for help and for water."

"That's an interesting combination, and you can say thanks when they give it to you."

Tim laughed. "Exactly, and I can say please, too. So I'll be polite."

"That's good, but you might want to get a little more Arabic than that."

"Yeah, I know, but what little Arabic I've heard here doesn't sound at all like what I knew."

"The Moroccan dialect can be a bit challenging simply because a lot of bits of other languages have made their way in, a lot like English, actually. But if you learned even a little, you'd be doing better than probably 90 percent of the people who come on vacation. Heck, you might even be doing better than 90 percent right now because you know something."

"That's pretty sad for everyone else," Tim said.

Daniel laughed. "Yeah. Anyway, I've found a few places and I got permission from the owners for you to take a look at them, today. One thing I recommend is that you make a choice quickly. That way we can do some negotiating and make sure you'll be ready to get in by the end of the week. Don't want you wasting your money on a hotel when you can spend it on much more interesting things."

"Sounds good," Tim said.

"Great. I'll drive us over to the first place, and then we can mostly walk if that's okay with you."

"It is. I've had some bad jetlag, so I haven't really gone out to see anything."

"Then, in that case, consider this your first introduction to the beautiful city of Marrakech! I'm even more thrilled."

Tim laughed and followed Daniel to his car. They got in and Daniel navigated the traffic to a place where he parked and they got out.

"Husna. Here we are. The first place is right down this alley."

Tim nodded and they walked to a door. It was plain wood, with no windows.

"How can you tell which one it is?" he asked.

"Practice."

"Okay."

"You'll get a feel for the place the longer you're here." Daniel opened the door and led Tim inside. "Here is your first riad! ...well, besides the hotel."

Tim followed him in and, at first, he was thinking how dingy it seemed, but then, they stepped through into a small courtyard, open to the sky. It was similar to the hotel he was staying in, but a lot smaller and simpler.

"Wow," Tim said.

"Yeah," Daniel said, grinning. "Now, this is a two-bedroom riad. It's been renovated, but only in the last fifteen years. It's a little rough around the edges, but it has a fully-equipped bathroom upstairs. Wireless is included, and you have a kitchen with a fridge/freezer, small but it works, and some storage space. The thing to remember about the riad is that everything is oriented in to the courtyard. There are no windows facing the street and it's just like a row home in the States. You don't get windows on the sides, either. But what you do get is this outside-inside space, and a beautiful view from the rooftop. Want to see more?"

"Yeah," Tim said, nodding.

"Good. Let's go."

They started through the house. There were two extremely high floors. On the first floor was a kind of living or sitting room nook, the kitchen and a dining room. Then, they went up a floor. Everything was tiled. The stairs were kind of tight and a little dark, but they were beautiful, too. Then, he was looking over a railing down into the courtyard again. They walked into the two bedrooms and the bathroom.

"The bedrooms are kind of dark," Tim said.

"Well, that's what you want, really. You want it to be dark when you're sleeping."

"True."

"All right, now, I want you to see the rooftop. You have an amazing view of the Jemaa el-Fnaa."

"The what?"

"The main square. You can't go wrong with that place. It's actually a protected UNESCO space. There are food stalls, clothing stalls. People will be dancing, singing and telling stories. It's amazing."

Tim nodded and looked out over this place that was not as foreign to him as he wished it was. He'd been in this type of place enough that it wasn't a shock, but it was mostly associated with bad memories for him. Even the good people he had met couldn't completely overcome the torture he'd suffered.

"Hey, Tim. You all right?"

"What?" Tim asked, looking over.

Daniel had a concerned look on his face.

"You looked like someone was walking over your grave. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. It is a beautiful view. Very different from the States."

"Yeah, it is."

Daniel didn't seem fooled by Tim's prevaricating, but he didn't push it, for which Tim was grateful. There was no way that he could tell Daniel about just why this view had him feeling more than a little unsettled.

"You ready to see more?"

"Yes. I am," Tim said.

"'Athīm. Let's go."

As they headed to their next stop, Tim's curiosity got the best of him.

"So...you don't seem like the kind of guy who would be so at home here," he said.

Daniel laughed. "I know. A scrawny red-headed white guy like myself should be in Ireland or something."

"I was thinking that myself."

"Believe it or not, it's in my blood."

Tim smiled. "I find it hard to believe."

"My looks are against me, I know. I don't know why my dad's pale, freckled skin was so strong and yet my mom's dark eyes won out. I'm a weird combination. My dad is a typical white guy, but he grew up loving Morocco and he came here every chance he got. My mom is an American, but her father was French and he married a Moroccan woman. They settled in Nebraska of all places, and my parents met in college. When they found out that they had this mutual link to Morocco, they started dating, got married, and had a few kids. They weren't ever really rich, but they would save up for family vacations and they were always to come here. A few years ago, Dad had a stroke, and it's left him completely paralyzed on the right side of his body. He's in a wheelchair. He's not likely to ever get back here again. One day, I was talking to him, and I said that I missed going to Marrakech. He can't talk very well, but he said that I should come here. And suddenly, I couldn't think of any reason why I shouldn't. So I sold everything I owned and moved out here to start a real estate business. I'm hoping that, in another couple years, I'll have a steady enough income that I can find a way to get my parents out here one more time. I can live on what I'm making now, but I need more than that if I'm getting my dad here."

"Wow," Tim said.

"Oh, here's the next place," Daniel said, pointing.

"Your name is very English, too," Tim said as they walked toward another blank door in the maze of alleys.

"Yeah. My dad got to pick the boys' names. My mom picked the girls'. I have a sister named Salma and another named Yasmine, and a third named Sarah. I'm Daniel and my brother is James. But Yasmine has hair as red as mine, and James looks like he belongs in Morocco. Salma and Sarah are both nice blends. We like to joke that they got the best genes while the rest of us got the dregs."

Daniel opened the door and let them inside the riad.

"Okay. This one is two bedrooms, but it has an extra half bath on the main floor. It's been renovated much more recently and is going to be a little higher end than the first one. It also costs more."

"Of course. The courtyard seems larger than the first one," Tim said. "Is that just my imagination?"

"No. It's larger. This riad has a slightly larger footprint, but it's still not significantly larger than the first one."

"All the white paint makes it brighter, too. The tile on the first one was beautiful, but it did make things a little darker."

Daniel nodded in agreement and showed Tim through the rest of the riad. It was similar to the first, but as Daniel had said, it was much nicer. But Tim wasn't sure it was worth the higher price. He didn't need luxuries like this while he was here, and the view from the rooftop wasn't as nice. Less life, more buildings.

For the next three hours, they went to various riads, and Tim found himself comparing every single one to the first one he'd seen. He also found himself genuinely enjoying Daniel's company. Of course, he was partially just doing his job for a client so that he could get paid, but he had a very pleasant personality and his excitement was unfeigned as he pointed out all the different places they were passing, in addition to the rentals.

"Okay, Tim. Last one. This is my wild card to see if you want something different."

"Okay."

They went to a building that looked more like an apartment building than a riad. It was still very nice and definitely Moroccan, but it wasn't the same as the riads.

"Okay, so here are the specs," Daniel said. "It's two bedrooms, one bath. Comes with free wifi, and it's fully furnished. This is in the area that's more for expats who like Morocco but still want to be with people more like them. You'll find a lot more English and French here."

That would be nice, but Tim wasn't sure this was the kind of environment he wanted. Still, it was worth taking a look.

"Want to see it?"

"Yes."

"Follow me."

They went into the apartment, and as promised, it was a much more familiar setting. It didn't look American, necessarily, but it did look European. But it didn't feel right and his mind went back to the very first place he'd seen. Tim was surprised that it mattered to him. This was a (hopefully) temporary move. He needed a place to hide and a place to do his work. It shouldn't matter what it looked like as long as it had the necessities.

But it did matter. And beyond that, it would be harder to be private with his comings and goings if he had to walk through halls. He wasn't sure about that.

"Well? What do you think?" Daniel asked. "I can't read you at all, and I'm usually pretty good at reading my clients. A mask couldn't be more immobile."

Tim smiled a little. Daniel couldn't know how ambivalent he was about that description.

"Not this one," Tim said. "On paper, it makes the most sense, but in reality...I don't think it's what I want."

"Okay. That's fine. Actually, I agree with you," Daniel said. "Of course, I love old town Marrakech. It's my first love. So do you have a choice, then? If you know what you don't want, do you know what you do?"

Tim thought about it, but there was really only one choice.

"This will probably sound silly after all the places we've been today, but I can't help thinking about that first riad. Price-wise, it was good. It had exactly what I wanted, and even though the tiles make it a bit darker and older, I just...I like the feel of it more."

"Really. Now that does surprise me. You didn't strike me as that kind of person."

"What do you mean?"

"I showed you that one first because I thought it would be what you eliminated right away. It's kind of dingy, and it's old. It hasn't been completely modernized. It's real Marrakech, not the glitzy, glamorous Marrakech that a lot of Americans have in their heads or that you see in movies. It's a place to live in, not to visit. Besides that, you didn't really seem to like it all that much. Are you sure that's the one you want?"

"Yeah, I am," Tim said. "Am I supposed to negotiate or something? I've never had a realtor help me with a rental before."

"I'll make all the arrangements. As the brochure states, my fee is one month's rent but you pay half and the owner pays half. I'll see if there's some haggling possible, but there isn't always with rentals. So why don't I take you back to your hotel and hopefully, I'll have good news tomorrow. Hātha jīd?"

"Meaning?"

"Is that all right?"

"Yeah. Sounds good."

"Then, I'll see you tomorrow, in sha' allah."

That one, Tim knew. The continual injection of Arabic into the conversation was a bit confusing at times, but he could at least appreciate the exposure he was getting to the language, and even as a non-speaker, Tim could tell that Daniel was fluent and that he was used to speaking in Arabic here. They headed back to the hotel, but as Tim started inside, he thought again about how he'd enjoyed today and he looked back.

"Daniel?"

"Īyeh?" he asked.

Tim could figure that particular word out, very easily.

"I saw on your flyer that you also can be hired as a tour guide."

Instantly, Daniel looked eager again.

"That's right! I have reasonable daily rates or hourly rates or even on a per destination basis if you want to go somewhere specific," he said, sounding like he was reciting a memorized spiel.

"Do you have a list of the costs?"

"Yes!" Daniel leaned down and felt around on the floor. Then, he picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Tim. "Here it is. I don't have anyone else right now, but that might not stay the case. I get hired at odd times...and by some odd people."

"Including me?" Tim asked, with a smile.

"Yes, including you, although you might go down as intriguing rather than odd. You certainly haven't lived up to your looks. But then, I don't, either, so I guess that shouldn't have surprised me."

Tim chuckled.

"Right now, what I'm going to want and need is to be able to navigate this place without getting lost. It's like a maze to me."

"Right. I can definitely help you with that. You let me know what and when, and I'll let you know how much."

"Sounds great."

Tim went back into the hotel and to his room. He fell onto the bed with a sigh of relief. It was good to be back here and in a quiet space. Marrakech was dizzying and fascinating, but at the same time, it was still foreign.

If Daniel was as good as he claimed, Tim thought he'd be able to get into that riad in a day or two at most. Then, he could take a couple of days to get himself situated and see about starting to search. The one question would be how he'd get any information back to his team. Then, he smiled.

He'd find a way.

"This time, I'm calling the shots," he said aloud. "As much as I can, I'm calling the shots. No one else is dictating what I do or how I do it. I'll figure this out, so that I can go home."

Decision made, he then made an easier decision to go down and have dinner.