Hell of a day indeed.
Mustafa and I had finally gotten back to the apartment with our hostages in tow and began the process of getting me settled in his bedroom (either that or the sink), Marti in the guest room which I had checked into only this morning (seemingly so long ago now), and Brian it was decided would be relegated to the couch in the big living room.
After the very carefully choreographed Inferior Desecration maneuvers, Mustafa got himself busy in his home office...which I assumed was so he could finish writing his report of the days activities, checking emails, and the like.
WHICH left the rest of us to get into a lot of mischief, which we PROMPTLY proceeded to do.
Actually it was Brian who found the cake, and Marti who found the ice cream...while I, the bastion of propriety and all, helped scoop and did the absolute best imitation of a total goofus EVAH. Of course then we proceeded to make total pigs of ourselves. OINK!
I realized later, my former tummy troubles were gone. Ice cream and cake will do that. Besides it's legal-sin, doncha know. LOL.
It was just what we had needed...and we ate and giggled and made porcine fools out of ourselves. It was wunnaful. Course I began to feel guilty (Part Jewish mother you know), and so I made a big plate for Mustafa and took it in to him.
"What's this, mate?" He asked as I set it down in front of him beside his laptop.
"I think it's called cake and ice cream in some circles.
However I prefer to call it 'SIN ON A PLATE'."
He grinned and so did I.
"Looks that way."
"Yep," I replied...
"and in the immortal words of mah fave Bear,
go for it...and do NOT get frosting in the keys, either."
I started to turn and go back to the kitchen when he grabbed my arm.
"Sorry Duster. I gotta get this stuff done. That okay?"
"Yeh, course it is. Just don't work too hard, alright?"
He grinned and I did too and then I continued on my way. I knew he wouldn't behave and I wasn't sure
I would even want him to. It's that intensity and passion that makes him so good at what he does. Wouldn't want to disturb that.
Just before I went out of the room, I said...
"We will try our darndest to leave a couple pieces of furniture intact, but I can't guarantee anything. You know how we are when we are left unsupervised for too long. We can be veddy veddy naughty sometimes."
He broke out into a laugh, and then fired a wad of paper at me. I ducked and away I went.
"ALWAYS LEAVE THEM LAUGHING," is my motto...
SO THAT...they won't notice you are stealing all the furniture. HAH."
I got back to the 'scene of the crime' as the kitchen shall now be known and dove back into my stash. LOL.
"He okay, Bear?"
Brian asked.
"Yeh. Appears to be."
"As much as ANY of us can be, honey,"
Marti added and I nodded in agreement.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
After our little criminally good venture into dessert, we all settled down in the living room. Marti got Brian ensconced in front of the TV, and then she and I got settled on the couch.
Marti told me a lot more about her life growing up in England, and I bored her to tears regaling her with the absolutely fascinating story of my Bear Cub formative years in the States. Brian stayed engrossed in the TV, and I noticed that Marti would look over periodically to check on what he was watching. As if he might accidentally stumble across a 24hr porn channel or something and stunt his growth for decades to come.
To be honest, I doubt seriously there ARE any porn channels in Afghanistan, 24 hr or otherwise. But a mother can't be too careful methinks.
It continued like that and frankly I was amazed that we could keep going. Actually, I would have thought that someone would find us days from now all in a pile just inside the front door where we had succumbed to exhaustion. But, no. We were all tired though, and fighting grief too. Me as well as Marti and Brian. Even though I hadn't known the son and brother they had lost today, I knew them and it hurt me too. I think in a strange way that maybe I was feeling the loss almost as much as they were. Having gone through what we did earlier, TOGETHER.
This kind of thing, just like the dressing Brian's wounds I had done earlier had, creates a bonding of sorts. A connection, and one not ever easily broken.
As Marti continued to talk, I kept looking at her, trying to assess how she was really doing and I gotta admit. The woman is a trooper. I can see how Mustafa likes her so much. They are kindred spirits in a way, at least in the inner strength department. Of course, I knew a lot of it was her wanting to stay strong for Brian, but I knew as well that a lot of what had happened earlier hadn't truly sunk in yet. Kind of that delayed-reaction thingy we humans are so good at.
Finally we all decided to give it up.
Marti and I got up, she rounded up Brian and got him laid out on the couch, and then we each in turn kissed him on the forehead. When she did it he grinned. When I did it he giggled. HARUMPH.
I told her goodnight in the hall and watched as she disappeared into the bedroom. Then I walked over to Mustafa's home office to tell him I was headed to slumberville. He stopped what he was doing just long enough to acknowledge my presence, grin and wave, and then off I went.
I was the only charter member of this rag-tag bunch of ninnies that hadn't showered earlier, too busy being mastah-of-ceremonies of course. Veddy impawtent job with so much responsibility.
Anyway, it was MY turn now and I fully intended to make it one of THE BEST shower events in all of recorded history. I had earned it, way I figger it. Water as hot as I can stand it. Slathered in bodywash from hair follicles to toe jam and then a long hot steamy trek to cleanville. Squeaky clean and ready for the sleep of the pure and innocent.
(Okay, who's giggling).
I did just that, too.
I somehow manged to refrain from bursting into a couple hours of 'SHAME THAT TUNE', for fear of disturbing the natives and suffering the indignity of being hauled away and put out of my 'misery'.
I had a wonderful timey oh yes I did. EVEN THOUGH, I had forgotten to pack my rubber ducky and I missed him turribly. (Okay, enough with the giggles).
That all done and over with, I made my way over to the big comfortable-looking bed and dove into it. Head first. Like a damn fool...and after looking to make sure no one had seen me do that, I got all comfy with my pillow jest so and the banky jest right, and then...once I was completely pristinely settled in as I now was, I closed my eyes and prepared to head off to the land of.......ODD.
REALLY...JUST...PLAIN...SERIOUSLY...ODD.
NO QUESTION I was tired. Beyond tired.
DAMN tired. Tired, and eyes wide open, and growl...
(Bear thingy).
Wide awake? Okay, I will just ignore that. Okay, that didn't work. I closed my eyes EVEN harder.
REALLY hard.
(Hell, I was contemplating nailing them shut).
NUTS!
Well, I decided I was SO not going to give in. I laid there and counted sheep. 1,2,3, ETC...and then that done, I started on the cows. Then the pigs, Then the chickens.
REAL BARNYARD FESTIVAL HEAH.
I had developed a pretty good rhythm in that county thingus, and that really helped...to make me...
EVEN MORE AWAKE. Well, okay. Perhaps there is going to be a pop quiz, and I DO still have to register the final tallies, and...
SHIT!
"I wonder if Mustafa has a hammer.
Maybe he could...nahhh,"
I mumbled to myself.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I think I managed to consume at least an hour or so, alternating between pretending I was sleeping and knowing I wasn't...and trying to go to sleep and failing miserably to go to sleep, and all that crap.
Somewhere in the midst of all this in-bed live entertainment and on-bored activity, Mustafa had slipped in so as not to disturb me (HAHAHAHA), gotten himself disrobed or dismantled or dis-membered. One of those thingies, and then slipped quietly into bed while I was in...
'PRETENDING TO BE ASLEEP' mode.
He closed his eyes I noted through the slightly open slit of one of mine, and promptly went...TO SLEEP.
THE NERVE!
Within two seconds, his breathing got slow and even and I could sense a really good snore coming on.
DESPICABLE. HOW DARE HE be there lying next
to me, IN BED, and SLEEPING. GROWL!
Okay. So much for sleeping. Pfui.
I eased my way out of bed, while simultaneously haranguing myself to a fare-thee-well..albeit very quietly of course.
WE CERTAINLY WOULDN'T WANT TO DISTURB THE SLEEPING. OH HELL NO!
I did contemplate whipping out my set of portable TYMPANI, and beginning a concert...but decided against it. See, I hate being tossed out of windows in the middle of the night, although it fortunately doesn't happen that often, BUT...
I did have a moment there where I did entertain the idea of randomly tossing a pail of ice water on mah fave Combat Journalist. But then there is that little matter of me suffering from chronic chicken syndrome.
OKAY. So, I made my way to the living room where I ever so quietly passed by the SLEEPING Brian.
(I seemed to be detecting a pattern here, although one I didn't seem to be participating in. Drat).
GOD my sense of self-restraint. SO good. SOOO good. I eased my way on to the kitchen where I also thought about setting up the drum set I had stashed in my carry-on.
BUT NO...
Instead, I made a pot of coffee.
"Gonna be a LONNNNG night I fears, Matey,"
I opined. To myself...and when the coffee was done I poured myself a mug and sat down at the kitchen table.
"Now what, Doofus?"
I knew I could make good use of the time by getting onto my laptop and writing the next great novel, but...
"Hi."
I must have jumped a foot.
"Hi," I whispered back.
I had been so caught up in my inner whinyness that I hadn't heard her coming.
"Can't sleep either?" Marti asked and I nodded while taking another big swig of my coffee.
"Got any more of that?" she asked and I got up and poured her a mug.
"Ahhh."
"Dang right. My sentiments exactly.
Suddenly, it hit me. Marti? God, she has to be...
"Marti, tell me something."
"Sure, Bear."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
She looked at me, and I think that that was just one sympathetic gesture too many. I saw her face change, and her eyes fill with tears. No sound, just...
I moved fast with my chair, getting around to where I could put my arms around her...and she began to just quietly 'let it all hang out,' and I held her as tightly as I could while she did.
CHAPTER 5-Click Here
No comments:
Post a Comment