The wind which blew across the middle eastern desert slapped sand particles painfully against the skin and blew ferociously hot, but in the tent of Omar bin Khalid, the wind outside was like a cool winter breeze. He stood tall beside his father who sat on a soft cushioned pillow, legs crossed and eyes closed, anger evident on his wrinkled face. Omar was being impossible. Again.
"I'm sorry if it upsets you but I'm going to marry her!" Omar voiced out, his back to his father and his palms in a fist. Megan was his choice, she had always been, right from the moment he first saw her in the large American mall in New Orleans till the moment she had accepted his proposal and even now that his father vehemently discouraged their union, she was still his choice.
What? A thirty four year old man couldn't make choices for himself?
The sheik was silent, eyes still closed. There was nothing more to say, Omar was his son by blood and he had to do accordingly to the words of his father's mouth, it didn't matter by hook or by crook. He waited, a message was supposed to have reached him by now. His frown deepened, he clenched his fist taking a deep breath.
The curtain to the tent was suddenly thrown wide open and a messenger rushed in, stopping in front of the sheik and bowing his head to the ground, he greeted him. The sheik smiled, the work was done. The family's blood had never in history been tainted by non Islam, not by outsiders, much less not by a simple American. He was saving his son the disgrace and he would never regret his actions.
"Is it done?" He spoke calmly but with a stern voice without opening his eyes.
"The lady was not found in her tent sheik, she's escaped." He opened his eyes now. Omar spun to face his father and the messenger, baffled at what he had just heard.
"Find her and send her back to America...." He opened his eyes and grabbed the messenger's arm forcefully, "...in pieces if need be. Go." Omar watched in horror as the messenger nodded and left the tent in a hurry then he faced his father, slowly approaching where he sat.
"You have been hypnotised by the simple American," he cut him off, speaking calmly and without remorse. "What I do now, I do for the greater good, to preserve the untainted blood of the family. You! will not ruin that. I spit on your unholy relationship!"
"I love her father! Why can't you see that? I'm a grown up man for crying out loud!"
"Love is pointless in the long run. In two hundred years would you remember her eyes? Or the way she smiled?"
"Yes father! Maybe I will! You will not touch my bride!" He raced out of the tent, he had to find Megan.
She knew where she was going to, there were no roads, no trees, no nothing save for the scorching sun that burned brightly above her head. She studied her shadow, deciding in which direction was east and which was west and grateful that she had taken geographic class seriously back then. Omar had spoken to her of his father's temperament before they got on the plane to Saudi Arabia, he had also promised to stand by her in all but now she was alone and felt like a lone butterfly in this jungle of soft sand.
When Omar had shown her the tiny cave hidden in the sand, she has thought it was beautiful and we'll crafted by who ever had done it, she didn't think she would be heading back to the place barely a day after. She knew in what direction to go, what she didn't remember was how long it took. Omar would find her. He just had to.
Khalid paced in the tent, he couldn't let his son go astray so easily. Now that he thought about it, he understood his wife's fears for sending him abroad to school but he had dealt the woman a hard slap for questioning his decision. If she were here, she would have started her nagging, talking about how right she had been and how she had seen this happening, but she wasn't here, Allah bless her soul, she had died two years back in a plane crash. As much as he bullied her, he loved her; of his four wives she was the bravest, never one to shy away from speaking up.
Now he had to deal with her son. Their son. His stubbornness he had gotten from his mother, his attitude was his father's blessing. The sheik smiled. He would marry his son to Mariam. Timid little Mariam of royal lineage.
Omar knew where Megan was, or at least where he hoped she would be. He only prayed that she remembered the little cave he had shown her. If she was there, he would find her, and get her back to America then he would deal with his father knowing that she was out of danger. He remembered the little trick she had taught him, about using your shadow to discern the East from the West, it brought a smile to his lips bit he didn't need that, this was his territory, he knew the area like the back of his palm. He edged on praying that Megan still be safe.
And she was, safe in the little cave only big enough to squeeze in two people. She crawled out of the cave and jumped into his arms, squeezing his neck in her hug.
"You look like a mess." He teased.
"The hottest mess you've seen so far." Then they kissed.
Victory was short lived because in an instant they were surrounded by the sheik's men. Omar cursed at his luck, they had followed him here and now they had her. Omar didn't fight back for fear of Megan's life and like sheep to the slaughter house, they were led back to his father.
"I have a proposition for you Omar bin Khalid," his father stood and walked towards his son's supposedly claimed bride, rubbing a thumb across her cheek which felt like dried pasta and resisting the urge to just slap her across the face. "She remains alive as long as you fufil a simple task of mine."
"A task..?" Omar knew his father. The sheik was not a man of many words but each one he spoke, he kept them. A 'task' as he called it, would be a compromise. He knew it.
"You will marry Mariam, the bride I have ordained for you or..." He glanced at the assassin who held Megan's hair, tightly pulling back so that her neck was exposed. He had placed a knife there. "....or you watch..."
He dragged the knife ever so slightly, tearing the top of her skin and drawing blood, she yelped in pain, careful not to move too much. Her eyes stung from all the crying and she looked to Omar for help.
"Stop! Ok! I will!... I will." He looked away in defeat and anger. He just had to be born as this man's son.
The sheik smiled, then sat back on the cushion, folded his legs and closed his eyes. His plan was falling into place.
Word of the day: Scene
Random words: *hypnotise. *baffle. *discourage. *tall. *wide. *pasta. *butterfly. *doll.
"I'm sorry if it upsets you but I'm going to marry her."
@Ozzyy @Hanzell I'm feeling good about this one 😋