Chapter 8
Standing beside a Russian truck, a very anxious Debbie waited for her husband and wife to arrive. The barren lifeless environment only fed her anxiety. It was hard to believe how desolate the area looked. Draught had cracked the hard ground into little bricks with inch wide cracks. Despite the sun in the sky, the air was chill. She turned to the Major who was seated on the hood of the truck and asked, "Are you sure this is the right place?"
"Very sure," the Major answered with a yawn. He stretched and leaned back against the windshield pulling his coat close around him. Bored, he said, "You might as well get in the back of the truck and take a nap. There's no telling how long we'll have to wait for them."
"When did they say they would be here?" Debbie asked. She pulled at the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing. She couldn't stop wondering how Georgia had managed to live in fatigues for so many years. They weren't very complimentary to her figure. It was her personal opinion that she'd look better in green fatigues rather than the brownish desert fatigues she was wearing. At least the green would compliment her red hair.
"A half an hour from now," the Major answered before covering his mouth and yawning. He found this kind of assignment rather boring. He expected to spend the next couple of hours out in the open doing nothing except watching the surroundings. Despite his boredom, his eyes were constantly searching the horizon.
"Why did we get here so early?" Debbie asked. Waiting around for a half an hour was going to drive her crazy. It seemed to her that her life was spent waiting for time to pass. Although the days spent in Israel had passed quickly, the nights had dragged on forever. She had missed Oscar and Georgia more than she could believe was possible.
"Because out here, a half an hour isn't a long time," the Major answered.
"Oh," Debbie said. She walked over to the cab of the truck and opened the door. Just before getting into it, she asked, "Do we have any water? I'm thirsty."
"You might not want to drink too much water out here," the Major said looking over at her. He wondered why he had been told to bring her out here just to pick up a couple of agents crossing out of Pakistan. She was definitely out of place in this wasteland. He figured that she would probably be more comfortable in a shopping mall.
"Why?"
He swept an arm in a gesture to take in all of their surroundings and asked, "Do you see any bathrooms?"
"Oh," Debbie said looking around. There wasn't even a bush to hide behind. She climbed into the seat and looked out the windshield hoping to see Oscar and Georgia appear by magic in front of her. A half an hour seemed like an eternity.
She had barely gotten settled in when the Major leapt off the hood of the truck. He went around to the driver's side door and opened it. Climbing into the truck, he said, "They're early."
Looking out the front of the truck, she couldn't see anything except dirt. Looking over at the Major, she asked, "Where are they?"
"About an hour's drive over that way," the Major answered pointing off to the side. He had spotted the bright flash of sunlight off a mirror in the mountain pass. It was the signal to let him know where to pick up the visitors.
Debbie frowned and asked, "Why were we waiting here for them? Why weren't we facing that way?"
"We don't want anyone to know where we are going. This is war and we have to be careful," the Major said. He glanced over at her and saw that she was still confused. His orders were to protect her at all costs. He said, "We parked far enough away from cover so that no one could fire at us without us seeing them coming first. By facing the wrong way, we didn't let anyone know where we expected them to exit the mountains."
Raising a cloud of dust, the Major brought the truck to a stop. He stared at the pair who had come out of the pass. He recognized Oscar and, with a moment of reflection, realized that it was Georgia with him. No one had bothered to tell him who was coming.
Debbie took one look at the pair and leapt out of the truck. She rushed towards Oscar with her arms outstretched. It was like a scene in a movie until she glanced at Georgia. Coming to a complete halt, she turned to Georgia and, mouth open in surprise, said, "Oh my goodness, Georgia! What happened to your hair?"
Despite that he had seen the happen when he had glanced in the future, Oscar stood waiting for Debbie with open arms. He still couldn't believe it when she stopped and raced to Georgia. Feeling rather foolish, he stood there with his arms out and watched the women greet each other. He looked over at the Major and threw his hands up in the air.
Hugging Debbie, Georgia answered, "I know, Debbie. It looks horrible, doesn't it?"
"It's white," Debbie said after stepping back a half pace. She didn't want to say that it made her look twenty years older. She reached out and touched a lock of her wife's white hair. It was so white that it almost hurt to look at it.
"I like it," Oscar said knowing that he'd get a reaction from her.
"It is granny hair," Georgia said in a curt voice while winking at Debbie to let her know that she wasn't that upset.
Interpreting the wink correctly, Debbie turned to face him with her hands on her hips. In a tone of voice that suggested he needed intense psychological counseling, she said, "My grandmother has hair exactly that color."
Thinking he would help out of a mess, the Major said, "Hey, I think it looks nice."
Both women turned on the Major and, in one voice, said, "That's sick."
The Major threw up his hands and walked away. There were some fights that couldn't be won and under those circumstances discretion was often the better part of valor. The Major understood that. Glancing over at Oscar, he said, "They are all yours."
Smiling at the strategic retreat, Oscar said, "Yes, they are."
Winking at Georgia where Oscar couldn't see, Debbie asked, "Did he at least offer to get you some hair dye?"
"No. The brute never offered to get me some hair dye," Georgia answered with a pout.
"There was no place to buy hair dye," Oscar said.
Georgia held a lock of her hair in front of her eyes. With a sad expression on her face, she said, "It was one of the Powers That Be who did this to me. I'm not sure of the wisdom of coloring it."
"You poor thing," Debbie said understanding why Georgia would question the wisdom of dying her hair to a more natural color. The news concerning the origin of the white hair was rather surprising. For a second she thought Georgia had become a Druid, but the lack of a medallion around her neck dispelled that possibility.
"Oscar has been truly horrible about the whole thing. Not one little hint of sympathy about my situation. He keeps saying that he likes it. Can you imagine that?" Georgia said shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
"I can't believe it," Debbie said even though she could believe that about Oscar. No matter what happened to their appearance, Oscar would still see them as being beautiful. It was one of the things about him that she loved.
"That wasn't the worst of it. He also kept trying to get me to wear a burka. He kept saying it was sexy," Georgia said looking over at Oscar.
"I wish I had known that he was that sick before I married him," Debbie said surprised to hear that. She looked over at Oscar questioning his sanity for the first time in the conversation. No one in their right mind would see a burka as being sexy.
"You should see her in it," Oscar said looking from one to the other.
"Sick."
"Definitely sick."
"Yes, but he's ours," Georgia said with a smile.
The pair of women grabbed Oscar and a three way hug ensued. With tears flowing down her cheeks, Debbie said, "I missed you both so much."
"We missed you, too," Georgia said running her hand through Debbie's red hair. She had missed her wife far more than she had expected.
"We've really missed you," Oscar said before kissing her. It felt so good to be holding her in his arms. It felt right holding both of them. He didn't want to let go.
After spending three hours in bed celebrating their reunion with passionate abandon, Debbie rose from her position between Oscar and Debbie. While slipping on a bathrobe, she said, "I need to run a quick errand."
"Stay here," Oscar said wishing that she'd remove the bathrobe and return to bed. He didn't want the reunion to end.
"I'll be right back," Debbie said with a smile.
Oscar and Georgia watched her leave the room with puzzled expressions. Georgia asked, "What's so important that she has to go?"
"I don't know," Oscar answered. He was tempted to see if an explanation existed in the future, but resisted the temptation.
"She's so beautiful," Georgia said. Seeing her lover naked after the separation had driven home what she had missed. It was as if she was seeing the lush red hair, the pale white skin, the green eyes, and the perfect body for the first time.
"Yes. I'm so lucky to have married two such beautiful women," Oscar said. He leaned over and teased Georgia's nipple with light kisses.
"I'll give you forever to stop that," Georgia moaned. The time spent traveling with Jumah had been frustrating in the lack of privacy that their camp afforded them. She had missed sex with Oscar. The anticipation of a week spent with Debbie had exaggerated her desire.
Oscar was quite willing to continue forever, but the sound of the door to the room closing interrupted him. Looking up, he spotted Debbie. He patted the bed beside him and said, "Come back to bed."
"We don't have time for that. We've got to get up and get over to dinner. They've got steaks for us," Debbie said.
After living in their clothes for the past few weeks, Georgia and Oscar didn't feel like getting dressed. After being separated from Debbie for so long, they didn't feel like missing a single minute expressing their love for her. Oscar reached out for Debbie and said, "Come back to bed with us."
"You've got to get up. Georgia's sister went to a lot of trouble to ship steaks all of the way out here for you two," Debbie said wanting to join them, but resisting her desires.
While the offer of steak was tempting, the chance of making love with Debbie was even more tempting. They exchanged a look and then Oscar said, "We'd rather spend more time here with you than eating steak."
"That's sweet, but you've got to go eat," Debbie said wondering what it was going to take to get them out of the room.
Smiling at her wife, Georgia said, "I'll even settle for MREs tonight if you come back to bed."
"You'd give up a steak dinner and settle for an MRE just to spend a little more time with me in bed?"
"That's right," Georgia said.
"Wow," Debbie said impressed. The entire drive to the base Georgia had done nothing except talk about how much she wanted a real meal. Steeling her resolve, she said, "We have to go. Come on, get up and get dressed."
Oscar stared off into space for a second and then smiled. Looking over at Georgia, he said, "She's right. We've got to go eat."
"Okay," Georgia said feeling like Oscar had let her down. She rose from the bed and grabbed a clean pair of underwear. Looking down at her pubic hair, she frowned and said, "That's white too."
Debbie smiled and winked at Oscar. In a soft voice, she said, "I kind of like it."
"I look like I was scared by something," Georgia said.
"If anyone gives you a problem, just tell them to look at Oscar and they'll understand what scared you," Debbie said. She burst out laughing at the expression on Oscar's face.
Rather than leading them to the dining room, Debbie led them to a conference room. Although Oscar knew what to expect, he stepped into the room and, in a voice conveying surprise, said, "Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?"
With damp eyes, Oscar's mother went over to him and hugged him. It was as if she never wanted to let him go. She answered, "We just wanted to see you again."
"Thank you for coming," Oscar said feeling a lump in his throat. His mother looked as if she had aged ten years in the few months that had passed since the wedding.
Georgia watched the scene shocked that his parents had traveled all of the way to Afghanistan. Then it dawned on her that his parents had realized what this trip actually meant. They had come to have a chance to say goodbye. Eyes tearing, she leaned over to Debbie and whispered, "They know."
Debbie whispered back, "Yes, they know."
Oscar's dad went over and hugged Oscar. In a voice that was a little over loud, he said, "They're cooking some steaks for us, son. Let's eat 'em before they get cold."
"Sure, dad," Oscar said recognizing that his father was trying to deal with his emotions. Jacob Meyers was man and was not used to dealing with strong feelings.
The group gathered around the table in the conference room. Oscar was sandwiched between his parents. Georgia and Debbie sat across from them. It seemed strange to Oscar to find himself surrounded by family in Afghanistan of all places on Earth. Georgia said, "I can't wait to eat some real food for a change."
Every one expected the waiter to haul out the steaks right away, but the cook came in and asked how they wanted their steaks prepared. Curious about the unusual behavior of an Army cook, Oscar asked, "What kind of steaks are they?"
"These are the finest steaks I've ever seen. They are Angus Porterhouse steaks from Omaha, an inch and a half thick and perfectly marbled. They're too good to overcook, so tell me how you want them," the cook said. There were a dozen self-professed barbecue experts, some of whom were members of Special Forces teams, standing outside ready to make sure that every steak was cooked to perfection. He suspected outside forces were at work, but chose not to ask any questions. The cook wondered if he was going to survive the experience.
Debbie smiled at the description of the steaks. Even those Israel was not so isolated, it wasn't easy getting steaks of that quality there. Turning to Georgia, she said, "Your sister went all out for this little banquet."
"Did she know his parents were coming?" Georgia asked.
"Of course, she did. The travel arrangements were all her doing," Debbie said with a smile. She had not known about it until she had left to pick up Oscar and Georgia earlier that day. It had been the hardest secret to keep of her entire life.
Feeling pleased with all that her sister had done for them, Georgia said, "I'm going to give her a call after dinner and thank her for all she's done for us."
While the wives talked with each other, Oscar talked with his parents. The discussion ranged over topics that had little to do with his journey. Mostly it was about what was going on in other parts of the world. The normalcy of the discussion was actually what Oscar needed.
Almost at the last minute, Oscar pulled the truck off the road and came to a stop in front of the mosque. The door of the mosque was glowing. That was the sign used by Allah to tell Oscar that he was to visit there. Grabbing his staff, he turned to his wives and parents and said, "Wait here."
As was done in the past, Oscar rapped the door with his staff. As always, the result was an overly loud echo that carried for miles. The Mullah, surprised by the noise, came to the door and stared at Oscar. His eyes rested on the medallion hanging around Oscar's neck.
Oscar was about to announce himself when, from inside the building, a deep voice called out, "I bid you enter Druid Oscar Meyers."
Oscar removed his shoes and entered the Mosque. To his surprise it was empty except for the mullah who had followed him into the room. There didn't seem rhyme or reason concerning which mosques or churches he was to visit. As always, a golden glow spread through the room. Oscar lowered his head and said, "I am here."
"The killing in my name must stop. Jihad by the Sword must end," the deep voice echoed through the room. In an indefinable way, the voice sounded even more majestic than usual.
"I shall continue to spread your message," Oscar said looking around at the empty room. The mullah was on the floor prostrate. Without an audience to whom he was to repeat the words, he wondered what had been the entire point of this exchange.
"You have served well," the voice said echoing through the room. The tone of the voice seemed to be amused.
"Thank you," Oscar said thinking this had been a very unusual meeting.
In a much lower volume, the voice said, "Go. Your family awaits you."
Understanding burst upon Oscar. In a soft voice, he said, "Thank you."
The mullah followed Oscar to the door. Once there, he grabbed Oscar's arm to keep him from leaving. In an emotion packed voice, he said, "Thank you."
"Your thanks should go to Allah," Oscar replied looking upon the man. Tears of happiness were flowing down his cheeks. Allah had done two favors that day. The mullah had served Allah based on nothing more substantial than faith. That day his faith had just been proven to be justified.
"I thank him with each breath I take," the mullah answered releasing Oscar's arm. With a smile, he said, "Go. Your family is waiting."
Oscar nodded his head and put on his shoes. The mullah watched Oscar walk to his car and, speaking to himself, he said, "Allah be praised. To imagine that I would see such a demonstration that family is important."
Climbing into the truck, he said, "Let's go."
His mother and father were looking at him with awe. His father said, "We heard the voice of Allah from here."
"He was actually speaking to you," his mother said as if she couldn't believe what she had heard with her own ears. She looked over at the building with wonder in her eye.
Debbie leaned over to Georgia and asked, "Is it always like that?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad I got to experience it with you," Debbie said hugging her wife. A small seed of jealousy had been removed from her heart. Hearing the voice of God had been one of those experiences Georgia had shared with Oscar while Debbie had been left behind. She had felt jealous at being left out of something that was so significant. With this visit, that was no longer the case.
Jacob looked at his son with pride. He didn't know if Oscar's mission to bring peace to the Middle East would be a success. It didn't matter. He said, "When you were young I used to worry about what would happen to you. It seemed to me that with your clumsiness that it was unlikely that anything good would result. I was always afraid that you'd end up dead or paralyzed as a result of one of your accidents. You have no idea how pleased I am to see what you have become.
"I'm proud of you, son. When someone says to me that they don't believe in God, I'll be able to answer that my son is Oscar Meyers and I heard him talk with Allah. I know that there are fools who won't believe me, but I'll know that I speak the truth. I know there are Gods and Goddesses."
"Thank you, Dad," Oscar said.
Tears forming at the corners of her eyes, his mother knew what price Oscar was likely to pay for his service. In a soft voice, she said, "I know that it's important work that you do. The whole world knows that. I just hope that the Gods and Goddesses haven't asked you to do more than you can bear."
"I can bear it," Oscar said with certainty.
His mother didn't answer. She turned and looked out the window of the truck with a frown. Under her breath, she said, "I just hope that I can bear it."
Oscar could have pretended not to hear her, but he didn't. In a soft voice, he said, "You can and you will. You are one of the strongest women I know."
Touched that his son thought enough about his wife's feelings, Jacob said, "We'll do what ever we can to support you."
Oscar looked at his family and said, "Old Jumah was right. There is nothing more important than family."
"Who is Jumah?" his father asked.
"He is the man who was our guide through the mountains from Pakistan," Georgia answered. Although she and Oscar were continual sources of consternation for the man, he had been of great help during the trip. He had taken care of the camels, tended the camp, and led them safely through a maze of canyons to reach Afghanistan in good time.
"Where is he? Why didn't you bring him to the base?" his mother asked. She would have liked to thank the man personally for taking care of her son.
Oscar answered, "When he learned that we were being met by another soldier, he decided to return home. He didn't really like having to deal with soldiers and would never have come to the base. It was all for the best. He felt satisfied that he had discharged his debt to Georgia for saving the life of his son."
Georgia said, "Oscar gave him the camels as payment for his time and effort."
"You can call it payment, but I call it punishment," Oscar said more than pleased to be rid of the foul nasty beast. He added, "At least Jumah was happy with them."
Debbie looked at Oscar while trying to imagine him on a camel. In a voice of mock horror, she asked, "Camels? You can here on a camel?"
"Yes," Oscar answered rolling his eyes.
Looking over at Georgia, Debbie asked, "How did Oscar and the camel get along?"
"In this part of the world, Broken Horse is known as Broken Camel,"
Georgia answered with a grin.