"Almost there now, just a million miles to go
And still I can contain how you make me glow, oh you make me glow
People look up at me and wooouuuuh they think that I'm a star
But it's all because the love you give to me it made me who I are
And it sounds like, sounds like… jahraymecofasola
Sounds like jahraymecofasola
Sounds like jahraymecofasola"Jill Scott – "Jahraymecofasola"
The camel acted a fool.
Disa stuck her legs out and gently tapped her feet on the animal's side, but the stubborn beast wouldn't move, and when it finally did, it walked in the direction she didn't want to go while holding up the rest of the tour group. Yamilet cackled and took a cell phone video of Disa struggling, and the embarrassment gripped her to the point of almost wanting to give up going on the ride into the desert. An ancient burial site had been discovered recently, and the group was only allowed to go see it because Disa was an architect with a well-known firm who did business in Cairo, along with her being a professor at a prestigious American school. Their guide had permission to allow their small select campers to have a careful view of it. She thought it would be a wonderful treat to see what Kemetic people had designed before Europeans crawled out of their caves.
Darwesh sat patiently on his camel at the front of the caravan and watched her go around in a circle with the unruly, smelly beast of burden. Zahur finally rode over to her, clucking his tongue and getting his camel to guide her own back in line for the short ninety-minute ride toward the ruins before their fancy dinner to end their camping journey.
"I'm sorry, Zahur," Disa said.
The quiet herder held up a half-gloved hand and reached over, grabbing the lead of her camel to make it mind its manners. The animal finally caved into Zahur's coaxing and joined the end of the trail ride line. Zahur stayed next to her, and she was relieved at having to worry about her camel acting up again. Yamilet rode in front of her and chatted with a French couple from Morocco, leaving Disa to enjoy the outing with Zahur. She didn't mind not having to talk a lot. The scenery was beautiful and the dry heat was bearable. Her mind wandered to the end of the trip where she would have to re-enter real life again. M.I.T. offered her a higher-paying position, and she considered taking it and cutting back her hours at the firm she free-lanced for.
Before they made it to their final destination for the day, they stopped to have a gourmet lunch sitting on sand dunes with views of the pyramids on the horizon. Their camp guides propped up shade covers for those who didn't want to sit in direct sunlight. Disa took a deep breath and removed her sunglasses, letting the white-hot sun bake her eyelids and the bit of visible skin she allowed to get toasted. With a belly full of delicious baladi, labneh, and kofta, she lounged. The grape leaves stuffed with meat and rice had her feeling gassy, but she sat away from her fellow travelers and cut wind in private. Yamilet sunbathed, and others took naps or chatted. Plenty of photos were taken, and Disa's heart was full of gratitude. The herders fed the camels little treats and sprayed misted water over their hides. Egypt was just what she needed to relax. No pressure. No rushing around. She had time to sit still and think about what she wanted in life again. Being alone took some time to get used to.
She watched Zahur walk back from a small tented area that they used as a restroom. Basically, everyone kicked holes in the sand and squatted. Disa decided to relieve herself before they started the trek back to their evening camp area. She dusted her backside of sand and trudged along the dunes until she reached privacy. Her urine ran clear from all the water she drank to stay hydrated. Wind ruffled the back of her head covering. It lifted sand in the air and some of it tumbled from her layers of protection. She walked back to the group, and they had already packed up their lunch area. Rinsing her hands with water from her canteen, she waited for Zahur to come around to help her with her camel. The animal sat to prepare for her and she threw her leg over it with the herder's help. She heard the man chuckling at her as she complained about her thighs in Arabic.
Their journey continued, and when the ruins came into view, the sight humbled Disa. Very few humans had the opportunity to view the past as freshly uncovered. Many sandstorms and the creeping growth of the desert further south had shifted the geography and uncovered new wonders. It was said that the new ruins were even older than the pyramids. The Egyptian government only allowed visitors who were educators, architects, or multi-millionaires. The ten people with their excursion were filthy rich. Disa was the only one with academic credentials.
The Egyptologists who traveled with them began their tour, and they admired the structure with a respectful distance. Disa was giddy with excitement. It impressed even the camel herders and camp staff with the ancient beauty. There were carvings of fish and even octopus on shattered pottery, and a few eroded pillars. Water had reached that far out thousands of years ago. She snapped pictures and when they had viewed all that the dessert had spit out for them to marvel over, large dusty SUVs and supply trucks arrived with their camping gear to set up another fancy evening under the stars. They would travel back by vehicles instead of animals the next day. She was happy about that. Her ass cheeks were sore.
Dinner was low-key, mainly finger foods because their lunch spread had been so filling. One millionaire snuck in some liquor and discreetly offered it to everyone to make a toast. Disa and Yamilet were the only Black people there, and they spent most of the trip with the caravan group asking them questions about their lives and work. Yamilet found it funny that their first day with the group had some campers thinking they were there as part of the work crew. A French guest said it was because Disa spoke Arabic so fluently and talked with the staff a lot. She just learned from her many travels that interacting with regular citizens was more interesting and she appreciated a local perspective as opposed to the travel brochure version of a place.
She left the group early to catch some sleep. The high-end bourbon made her drowsy. Riding and sightseeing exhausted her. Stretched out on her comfortable sleeping pallet that was six inches thick, she dozed off and dreamed of Erik.
In her dream, Disa walked along another desert and found him standing against the wall of some ancient city in Iraq. His locs were windblown and his full lips peeled back into a loving smile, shining brightly with his gold slugs.
"Are you well?" he asked.
She cried in the dream world, and he hugged her. Disa welcomed his touch and the scent of him made the lucid dream come alive even more.
"I'm good. Are you?" she said.
He looked away from her and pointed to the full moon above them.
"I'm always going to be there," he said.
The light of the moon bathed their faces in a soft, silvery glow.
"I love you, Disa."
"I know."
She turned to him, and he lifted her chin and kissed her.
"I had to let you go. I had to choose me for once," she said.
"I know."
Disa pushed her face into his neck and wept.
"Thank you for this trip," she whispered.
His dream presence in her arms faded away as she slowly woke up to the sound of laughter from outside and soft music. Quietly, oh, so quietly, Disa rose from her pallet and left her tent to wander into the half moonlight guiding her path away from her campsite. The air had cooled considerably, but there was still the gathered whisper of heat. She took off her head covering and draped it around her shoulders. A few of the herders helped bed down the camels for the night. Zahur was one of them and he stopped tugging on a camel lead and watched her approach.
"No worries, just going for a walk," she blurted.
She swept past them and stopped to look at the few stars that popped out above her. An old stone wall that was part of a more modern structure that slowly eroded away from the desert sand grabbed her attention, and she walked toward it. Once she passed it by, she halted her strides again. The moonlight muted the brilliance of the stars, but that was okay. The moon was what she wanted to see as Erik's words from her dream returned to her.
"We had our time," she said to the moon directly.
Her lip trembled.
"It was beautiful, baby, it really was. We just had different journeys. I know it was real and I will cherish it always," she said.
She fell to her knees and wept.
"Anat bikhayr?"
Zahur and another herder, Masud, ran to her side.
"I'm fine… really… ana bikhayr."
Masud walked away, but Zahur adjusted his head covering and reached for her hand to help her up.
"No, I want to be here… leave me alone, please, atrukni wahdi."
She waved him away and closed her eyes. His soft, limping footsteps on the sand backed away from her. Disa pulled off her engagement ring. It sparkled under the moonlight. She kissed it, then wrapped it inside a handkerchief she used to shoo away flies from her face. Digging a hole, she buried the ring under the shimmering light of the moon. That part of them was over. But the moon and the stars of Egypt would always be theirs to remind her of what could've been. She stood and walked further into the cool blue-black beauty of the desert and relished the stunning curves of the sand dunes. The play of light from the moon on the dunes was seductive and Disa twirled around, feeling like an ancient Kemetic woman dancing for the moon God Khonsu as he watched over Egypt. The light coloring of her desert garb looked ethereal and Goddess-like. She danced around and around until she grew dizzy and dropped to her knees to rest. She reclined all the way on the sand and let the moonlight caress her face.
"You can watch over me like this, Erik," she said to the partial moon. "This is nice," she murmured as her eyes closed.
She pulled her thin gauzy covering over her face to keep the abrasive grains of sand from blowing all across her face and up her nostrils. Lazy. Drifting. Letting go. Comfortable. Peace.
"Khamaseen!"
The loud shouting woke Disa up. She pulled her face covering aside and stared up at the sky. The moon had shifted position and she could barely make it out from the powerful gusts of wind that carried rough sand that grazed against her cheek. She wrapped her face and stood up. Disoriented, she spun around to see where the camp was located.
"Oh, God!" she shrieked.
The dry sultry night wind had dredged up a sandstorm, and a giant wave of accumulated grains had formed a giant cloud of hot dust headed their way. It was terrifying and beautiful, but Disa knew it was too late to make it back to her tent sprinting. The storm rushed toward them much faster than her legs could carry her to safety. Her best bet was to run to the eroded building wall and hope it would give her some protection.
Screams of fear echoed toward her as her fellow campers scrambled for safety inside the SUVs.
"Oh, fuck!" she shrieked.
The loose sand hindered her progression, causing her to lose traction with her footing. She shouted to let the others know she was not with them, but the wind tossed her voice back over her own head.
The sandstorm hit and she fell face forward on the ground to protect herself. The wind howled around her and she crawled on all fours, but soon lost her sense of direction. Her head covering blew off from the strength of the wind and she squeezed her eyes shut and curled into a ball hoping it would pass over soon. Visibility was null and void and she prayed to Allah to help her survive the pressure and sand blowing against her body and the difficulty breathing she experienced.
"Yaghib Disa!" a frightened voice shouted.
Another one joined it. Men. Zahur and Masud.
"I'm here—"
Sand blew into her throat, and she coughed, hacking up spit and dirt. She crawled toward the sound of large camel bells being jangled to give her direction.
"Yaghib Disa!"
Two firm hands lifted her up and helped her walk to the wall. They braced themselves against it. Disa pressed her face against Zahur's chest and he blocked her from the debris that swirled around them. She kept her eyes closed and face covered.
At least an hour passed before it died down, leaving them all with dry throats and mouths dusted and coated with Egyptian sand. Zahur and Masud led her back to the others, who took refuge in vehicles. Yamilet was near tears and hugged Disa so tight when she returned to safety.
"I thought you were still asleep in the tent!" Yamilet cried out. "I couldn't find you!"
"I'm okay. It snuck up on everybody!" Disa said.
Zahur and Masud went back to check on the camels and the only damage done was a few tents became unmoored by some windswept spikes. The arrangement of the large SUVs blocked and protected their campsite. Several people were shaken up, and others couldn't stop babbling at how thrilling it was. Disa had to agree. There was an awe-inspiring and dramatic moment of wonder that fell over her despite the terror of thinking she'd be buried by sand, smothered to death, and never found. She drank more bourbon and went to her shared tent with Yamilet to describe her misadventure with mother nature. It grew late, and she wanted to thank Masud and Zahur for their search and rescue, but they had already turned in for the night. She crawled back onto her pallet with dirty, disheveled storm hair and a story to tell her colleagues back home. Her only regret was not having her cell phone to record the event.
###
The oppressive heat made her not want to get up.
Disa groaned when Yamilet threw a pillow at her.
"Get up! Time to eat and get these last sunrise shots with the pyramids as a background," Yamilet whined.
"Okay, okay!" Disa groaned.
She rolled over and changed into some jeans and a loose cotton blouse with sandals. They would ride back to their hotel in air-conditioned comfort, so there was no need to put on the nomadic desert clothing chic. She put on one of her own hijabs. Grabbing her camera with a telephoto lens, she followed Yamilet out. They snapped pictures, said goodbye to their camels and ate a breakfast of sunrise omelets and fresh, piping hot Turkish coffee. She relived some memories of the camping adventure with her new travel companions. Unlike Yamilet, who loaded her things in a waiting vehicle earlier, she left some of her gear in their tent. She strolled over to collect her things and caught sight of one worker leaving her tent in a hurry.
"Hey!" she shouted, running into her private tent.
Looking around her pallet and the plush pillows on fancy camp rugs, nothing appeared stolen. She had her travel purse and camera with her already, and the only thing left was a medium-sized duffle bag and a pair of hiking boots. No one was supposed to go through to clean up the tents until after they were gone.
Disa glanced around once more to double-check if she missed an item. There was a crumpled envelope from the hard-copy camp itinerary she had tossed away earlier in a waste bin since she didn't need it anymore. She picked it up from her pallet.
Inside was her engagement ring.
"What the hell?" she said.
She ran outside the tent and searched for the person who invaded her space.
"Hey! Darwesh! Who was that going through the tents just now?"
Darwesh blinked at her and curled his lip in thought.
"No one should go through them at this hour."
"Someone was in my tent a minute ago."
"Oh, Zahur went to look for a camper to return something."
"Where is he now?"
Darwesh shrugged.
"He may have headed over to where Masud is."
He pointed toward the corralled camels. Disa rushed over to it, still clutching the envelope holding her ring.
"Zahur! Zahur!" she yelled.
She startled Masud as he clutched a bundle of khaki-colored desert clothing.
"Where is Zahur?"
Masud no longer had on his nomadic camel herder clothing and his light brown face was freshly scrubbed and shaved. She didn't know that he was so handsome under all the layers he wore on their trip.
"He's gone," Masud said.
"Gone where? I need to see him."
"He's gone. Not coming back. Took some supplies away."
Behind him, a filthy and battered jeep kicked up dust, heading north toward the sea. Disa stepped closer to Masud. There was a twinkle in his eye, and she noticed something strange about him. His voice was different. No, that wasn't it. The tone and vocal inflections were the same, but he was speaking English.
"I thought you only spoke Arabic," she said.
"I can speak English."
She held up the envelope.
"I buried this in the desert last night and somebody put it back in my tent, and I think it was Zahur."
She stuffed the envelope in her camera bag, then noticed Masud trying to hide the clothing in his hand behind his back. Disa grabbed it.
"He wore this to my tent. Why are you trying to hide it and—"
She jerked her hand away from the bundle of clothes when she touched something lumpy and wrong jammed in between the layers. Knocking the bundle down, she jumped back when something flew out onto the sand.
"The hell…" she mumbled.
She picked up the strange, textured layers of… skin? Disa held it to her nose, then held the garments closer to her nostrils too. She moaned out loud and jammed the clothes against her chest. The odor coming from the bundle was all him. Fresh too.
Disa couldn't keep her eyes from watering and Masud's form in front of her blurred.
"Who are you?" Disa said.
Her voice cracked, and she couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face.
"Masud—"
"Liar. Tell me the truth. Please."
Masud lowered his long eyelashes and sighed.
"Tahir. I am Tahir."
"This entire time… he was by my side. Wearing this hot ass facial prosthetic shit and faking a limp… disguising his voice," she whined.
"It was the only way to stay close to you without giving away his identity. He told me it was a trip of a lifetime and he wanted to watch you experience it and share in it. Even if it was from a distance."
Tahir grinned.
"You must be a very special woman for him to go through all this trouble to see you happy. I must leave now. Safe travels home, Disa," Tahir said.
She watched him gather the clothes and phony scar tissue.
"Wait," she said.
She took the shemagh from the pile and kept it. The odor of his cologne was pleasing on the material. She took off her hijab and wrapped his head covering over her hair and face.
"He will not come to you ever again. In case you are worried," Tahir said.
Disa turned away from the man and wandered in a daze to her tent once more. She grabbed her belongings and headed to the SUV that would drive them all to their five-star hotels. On the ride back into the heart of Cairo, she leaned her head against the window and sniffed the shemagh. Her breath caught in her throat as she opened her camera case and pulled out the envelope with her ring. Her fingertip touched a small scrap of paper she missed earlier inside it. A note. His handwriting. She read the words.
Live your life well, Disa. This ring shines like the moon you stared at last night, and I don't want you to bury it because I let you down. Keep it as a reminder of how I see you… a wondrous heavenly being. Allah blessed me with your presence in my life, and I will live as a fortunate man knowing that you kept this small token of my deep love for you. Thank you for loving me, baby. Build that world you want to see.
Love forever and always,
Erik
Disa slipped the ring back on her finger and buried her face in his scent. She cried all the way back to the hotel and all the way home.
