Date: Thu, 30 Jul 2015 12:43:55 -0700 From: Amar Patel Subject: An American in Kandahar (Ch. VII) Written by: Amar Patel Disclaimer: The following story is fictional. The author (myself) is older than 21, anyone who is under the legal age (according to their country, state, or provincial laws) to view erotic material should immediately dissuade themselves from reading further.The story is fictional and similarities to events and persons (living or dead) are purely coincidental and unintentional. If you are offended by homosexual erotica or it is illegal for you to read such material. Please read no further. Copyright: The story may not be copied, distributed, in any way, shape or form without consent from the author. Opinions and Improvements can be sent to my email: patelamar360@gmail.com or on twitter (PatelAmarNifty) If you wish to continue to read mine and other authors works, it is important you donate to Nifty. They have provided a rich amount of stories for your enjoyment so it is only fair you give back ;). Comments are always welcomed. And encouragement. _____________________________ Chapter VII Khaled The sounds of tingling bells caused my eyes to shoot open, and I felt a soft gush of air as a streetcar passed me by. As my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, I found myself in the middle of a street frozen in time. For a moment, all I heard was the sound of the streetcar as it trudged down the street, but then, everything around me seemed to burst at the seams with life. From every direction, throngs of people walked every which way, and the sounds of tingling bells were replaced with the sounds of chatter and boisterous laughter. A pair of women darted past me with muttered apologies, and I watched as they sprinted with all their might to catch the awaiting car, but what they were wearing struck me. One woman was dressed in a bright yellow sundress, her glossy black hair pinned closely to her head, and her yellow ribbon fluttering in the breeze. Her friend on the otherhand was dressed in an elegant, pink springtime hanbok, her long braid bouncing from side to side as she ran, and as her navy blue chima billowed out behind her, she left behind the aroma of cherry blossoms and freshly brewed green tea. As I made my way down the street, I noticed the same pattern reflected in the crowds around me as some wore western suits and dresses while others wore hanboks of shining silk that Halmeoni cherished so much, and it reminded me of all the stories that she told me. I remember a long time ago, Halmeoni told me that this what the Seoul of her childhood looked like... a city of smiles and laughter... a city recovering from three decades of jjokbari rule... but most importantly, it was a city where the west slowly encroached on the east, and I saw that in the buildings. From as far as my eyes could see, the entirety of the street was littered with storefronts, but the sharp contrast between left and right was clear. To my left laid the storefronts of shimmering glass and thick wooden doors that jingled when opened, and their elegant window displays sold everything from cigars to dresses and even Coca-Cola; however to me, the right side was the most beautiful. With storefronts with elegant upturned roofs decorated with traditional colors, they lured in the unsuspecting passerby with their partially open doors that let out the aromas of green tea and incense, but the true bait laid within the various open stalls and their deep fried delicacies. When I spotted a stand with freshly fried yakgwa (honey pastry), I felt myself being pulled like a moth to a flame, and the couple that ran the stand certainly saw my interest. With warm smiles, they beckoned me over, and without an exchange of words, they handed me an overfilled bag. When I tried to reach into my pocket, the couple quickly shook their heads and waved me off. Walking a little further down the street along the tracks, I bit into a honey glazed confection and felt a feeling of bliss, but then, there came a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I found myself nearly nose to nose with a man dressed in a black uniform; I hadn't realized that I had walked as far as the streetcar. Flashing a crooked smile, the conductor held out a white gloved hand. "Are you boarding the car sir?" I was surprised he spoke in Hazaragi rather than Korean. "I do not have a ticket." The conductor raised a brow and pointed "It's sticking out of your pocket." Puzzled, I looked down and found a slip of paper in my pocket. Taking it out, I passed it to him. The conductor bowed his head "We will be departing soon, please take your seat sir." In confusion, I quickly hopped up the stairs, and sat near the window. Surprisingly, the two women from earlier waved from across the aisle, and I hesitantly waved back. Turning my attention to the window, I felt a sudden jolt, and watched as the car slowly trudged forth. Within minutes, I watched as a sea of faces passed by, and soon the surroundings turned into a string of houses. Someone tapped my knee, and I looked to see the woman in the sundress smiling at me, her companion was dozing with her head leaned back against the leather. "You know, I was the one who told the conductor to wait." I was not sure how to respond "Uhm, thank you." She smiled "I know your home is a long walk away, my mother told me so." I was even more confused "I guess so." She pointed to the bag "Is that yakgwa?" I nodded silently "That is one of my favorites" I strained a smile "Mine too." Feeling someone place their hand on my shoulder, I looked up to see the conductor "Is this not your stop sir?" "Is it?" "Unless your house moved." He said this with a chuckle. "Oh uhm, alright" I awkwardly stood, and the girl spoke up. "See you in the morning." Feeling foolish, I quickly went to exit the car, and as I stepped down, everything around me seemed to vanish at that instant, for what laid at my feet and upwards was absolutely beautiful. Covered with bed after bed of Morning Glories, a large hill rested at my feet, and a dirt pathway led up to a house that only an artist could imagine. Possessing a traditional upturned roof made from dark gray shingles, the house's white walls glowed in the orange sunset, and I was drawn to the elegant sliding doors and front facing windows. Climbing up the hill, I noticed that the sliding door of rice paper panels and lacquered wood was decoratedvwith hand painted flowers, and a pair of familiar sandals leaned against the wall. I felt my heart begin to race then, and I slid the door open with a little too much eagerness. Revealing a spotless bamboo floor as the light poured in, the aroma of freshly baked naan filled the air, and when I looked into the kitchen, I knew immediately that it was a dream. Standing at the stove with pan in hand, Jahan-jan laid naan after naan on the ceramic plate, and looked up at me with a bright smile. Of all the things that I could have dreamt of, I had to dream of agha... and the place that I longed to run away to with him at my side... Shutting off the heat of the stove, Jahan-jan began to walk towards me, and I felt my heart become even more erratic and fluttered. I was frozen... I did not know what to make of this... even if it was a dream, but I was unprepared for the shock that passed through me as agha cupped my face in his hands. His soft honey eyes sent chills through my very being, my very soul, and without warning, his lips met mine with heated passion. All I could do was melt into agha's are, as our contact grew more fierce and lustful as our tongues began to dance with one another. His hands groped at my bottom as his tongue pushed further and further , and my knees buckled as he took my ver breath away. His lips were so soft... I could not catch my breath as we broke our kiss, and my heart beated against my chest with every pant. As my vision blurred with sheer pleasure, I heard a faint call... almost like a whisper, then I realized someone was calling my name. I felt someone shake me then, and the room began to slowly fade away. I did not want this dream to end... and I reached out in desperation to touch agha's flesh once more. I opened my eyes to a dark room, and the dim light of the hallway revealed agha sitting beside me. "Khaled, I am sorry to wake you, but it's urgent." He whispered as softly as he could. Slowly, I perched myself up, and rubbed my eyes "What is wrong agha?" "It's about the situation. Please come." He stood and cautiously walked across the floor. Folding my blankets and placing the pillows on top, I gazed in the direction of the bachem, and to my sweet relief, he was still fast asleep. Quietly, I readjusted his blanket, and slipped out of the room. Making sure to close the door softly, I joined agha in the front room, and saw that his expression was concerned and stressed. Sitting across from him, he did not speak for several moments, and I mustered the courage to speak first. "Did you attend to all your patients agha?" He nodded "Do you remember Zia's daughter?" I nodded "Ne, how is she?" "Broke a rib from falling down the stairs as her husband claims, but you and I know that drunkard has a temper." agha said this bitterly. "Will she be alright?" "If she doesn't move or bend down." "Ah, I see." Silence fell between us again, but after several moments, Jahan-jan cleared his throat "I met with Anas-sahib." I felt my heart sink slightly, and I could hear the fear in my voice as I spoke "What did he say?" "Some foreign troops and a medical team retrieved the bodies after hearing the explosion, five dead, one critically wounded." "One critically wounded agha?" Jahan-jan smiled slightly "4 american causualties, and one Afghan causualty." "Mashallah!" I replied Agha's face grew grim them "Anas-sahib told me that no sooner than they had driven only a few meters that they were fired upon from afar." "Was it the Talibs agha?" "Who else? They're the only ones who would be so low as to fire at a medical vehicle, but Inshallah, no one was hurt." "Did Anas-sahib say anything else?" Jahan-jan's expression darkened "Based on the information Anas has, we will not be safe here for much longer." I felt a lump form in my throat. "W-what do you mean by that agha?" Agha's face was void of expression, but I could see the fear in his eyes "The Talibs have sealed off the road leading south to Kandahar City, and they have positioned themselves in the foothills to the North of here. We have three weeks at the least and a month at the most, but after that.... this place will become a warzone." I did not know what to make of it, but I feared for the bachem. "But the bachem's injuries are not healed yet agha, he-" I stammered. Agha cut in "I am aware he's in no condition to travel Khaled, and I will figure it out somehow. Anas-sahib said that he will join us soon. For now, let us put our worries aside until he arrives." "Ne agha..." Agha gave a weak grin "Did you enjoy your time with him while I was away?" "Yes agha, he was very kind and considerate." "He's very charming isn't he?" "Very agha." "Perhaps it was his charm that tired you? I have not seen you nap like that in a long time." "Ne agha, I had to carry him." I thought I saw a faint glint in agha's eyes as he smirked, and I noticed an empty bowl near his foot. "Did you like the ddeok agha?" "Yes, they were very sweet, thank you." I lowered my face to hide my blush "You are very welcome a-agha." Jahan-jan leaned over and placed several bags on the table "I bought the scallions and beef as you asked Khaled." "Thank you agha, but did you get what you needed?" "Would you like to see? Anas-sahib was kind enough to accompany me to the clothing shops." I nodded, Anas-agha always had excellent taste, and Jahan-jan eagerly removed a pile of elegant clothing from several bags. "I could only afford a single payraan tumbaan, but Anas-sahib chipped in of course. I have five for our guest to wear, and this..." Agha pulled up something that the Indians often wore. "This Sherwani is a gift from Anas, straight from Mumbai." "It is lovely agha." Suddenly, there came a knock on the front door, and agha flicked his head at the door. Standing quickly, I stood and opened the door to Anas-agha's smiling face. He was dressed in a western style suit, and he smelled heavily of cologne, but most of it did not belong to him. Agha's usually well kept hair was slightly unkempt, and there was no question where he had come from. Bowing my head, I moved aside, and he gently patted my shoulder as he slipped in. "Thank you Khaled, but as I said, there is no need for such formalities." I watched as Anas embraced Jahan-jan in friendly embrace, and the two sat across from one another at the table. Without having to be told, I went into the kitchen and filled a tea pot with cinnamon tea, and quickly returned with cups and pot in hand. I served the tea, and sat in silence. "You are looking very sharp this evening Anas-sahib." Agha said as he sipped his tea Anas chuckled "I was meeting with one of my regular clients Jahan-jan." He looked about the room as if in search of something "And where is your guest sahib?" "He is sleeping." Agha replied "Is he still a mystery, or perhaps you have gotten to know him?" "His father is Maghrebi, and he speaks several languages sahib." Anas leaned forward as agha spoke "Maghrebi? Very exotic." Jahan-jan clasped his hands, and let out a sigh "I do not mean to be rude Anas-jan, but we have more pressing matters to attend to, and I am sorry to say that we must skip our usual friendly exchange." I felt the air thicken suddenly as Anas-agha nodded his head, and dropped his usual impish grin in favor of an expression of focus. "Yes, we are here to continue our discussion on the situation." For the first time in many years, I saw agha's hands trembling "I was hoping that we would have more time before the Talibs came, but after this afternoon, I find myself at a lost. How are we supposed to vacate this place and return the bachem to his people? With the road sealed, and with his injuries... Bismillah." Anas nodded "But you forget Jahan-jan, Kabul also has an American base as far as I know." "Kabul? That is all the way across the country." "But it is the safest place." Anas-agha swirled the tea in the cup "This town lays in between three fronts, the North is controlled by one of my clients, the South and West by the Talibs as you mentioned, but the East has yet to be claimed. Your safest route is to take the road East." Jahan-jan shook his head, and his tone became slightly impatient "Anas-sahib, with all due respect. You cannot expect us to travel across the entirety of the country with an injured man, all our belongings, and on foot, do you?" Anas cracked a smile "Of course not sahib, leave all the preperations to me, but I encourage you to think about points where you can stop and rest." I saw him flick his eyes at me. "I believe the road East leads to Hazarajat." Jahan-jan's eyes lit up "Khaled has family there don't you Khaled?" "My grandmother lives in a village near Bamiyan." "Then that will be your preferred route then Jahan-jan." As the two went back and forth discussing the route, I could not help but feel the weight of how fast life was going to change for us. In a matter of weeks, I would have to leave this place behind, and leave everything I knew behind... As I thought about this, I came to a sudden realization. If I leave this place, I would have to leave Baba alone, and I wondered if agha knew this. "Khaled, Khaled." Anas' voice snapped me back to attention "Do you agree?" "Hmmm?" I saw both Anas-agha and Jahan-jan looking at me intently. Anas smiled "Do you agree with the departure date being two weeks from today?" Every fiber in my being told me to refuse, yet my heart told me to not defy agha's wishes "Yes... I agree" "Then it is settled." Anas replied Jahan-jan clasped his hands "Thank you Anas-sahib, we are grateful for your help." "Of course, we are friends. I must be taking my leave now, but I will be back sometime soon." "Inshallah." Jahan-jan said this with a bow of his head, and stood to open the door. As Anas walked out the door, he turned to the both of us "Please say hello to our guest, and hopefully, I will get to meet him soon." Nodding, Jahan-jan gave him a friendly embrace, and shut the door as soon as he saw Anas weave through the collapsed buildings and minaret. "Anas-jan said that he will be back in three days. In that time, I want you to start packing whatever it is that is most precious to you first, and then pack clothing." I did not know where a surge of courage came from, but I dared to speak "Agha?" He turned from the kitchen doorway "Yes?" "What about Baba?" "What do you mean?" "I cannot leave him here alone agha." "That is nothing but a stone Khaled, his soul is with Allah now." For the first time, I felt anger towards him. "Even a stone deserves respect agha, and Kaka and Khala are here too. Who will take care of their graves?" I clenched my fist. He sighed "I do not want to leave their graves unattended either Khaled, but we made an oath to protect Amal. It is not like we will forget them if we are seperated from their graves." I watched as he changed directions, and walked towards the staircase leading downstairs "Come along, I have to show you something." Following him downstairs, he led me down the hall to his bedroom, and I saw him crouch down near his bed. Removing a large wooden box from under it, Jahan-jan moved to his bookshelf and took out a key from the spine of a book. With a soft click, Jahan-jan opened the box, and poured the contents onto the bed. There laid several items that I had not seen in years, but I had not realized that he saved them. Jahan-jan smiled faintly as he ran his hand on each object "We both knew that eventually, we would have to leave this place behind. You must admit that you saw this coming Khaled whether it be by fate or by choice... You are not the only one who has come to the realization that we would have to leave their graves behind, and so, I've kept these in preperation for this very situation." When he looked at me then, I saw the glow in his eyes that I used to see. "Come and look." Sheepishly, I walked over to him, and looked at the pile below. There was the tie and books that Kaka adored so much amongst other things wrapped in cloth, there was an empty bottle of Khala's favorite perfume and even her wedding veil and dress, but what surprised me were the various photos of Baba, Jahan, and I. In front of the bazaar, when we saved for ages to buy a some decent clothes for Eid, but there was also the Taqiyah he always wore... and I felt the soft fabric in between my fingers. "Agha, you saved all of this?" I felt my heart beat faster. "Of course I did, your Baba was just as much as a Baba to me. It was the least I could do." "You saved so many/" "There is still more around the house, Khaled. I understand that it is difficult for you to part ways with his grave, but you have countless things to take with you... Will you be willing to go now?" I held Baba's taqiyah against my chest and nodded "Yes agha." "That makes me happy Khaled, in all honesty, I would not have been able to make this journey without you." When I looked at agha's face then, his expression had not reverted to that of his usual cold and distant expression, but was still the agha that I used to know. "It is almost sunrise Khaled-jan, why don't you wake up the bachem, and we can discuss the situation with him." "Ne agha." "How about I make some chai?" "That would be nice agha."