it was even more so.
She was relieved as the vehicle again gained traction, but ahead of them was a new difficulty. A tall bank of sand dunes stretched out on either side, with no end in sight, and blocked much of the horizon.
“In my youth we used to drive the dunes for fun,” he said, looking at her with concern. “We were lucky.” Minutes later his mouth tightened as he looked ahead.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked and frowned at the dunes. “Can we go around?”
“Possibly,” he said. “But that could set us back hours.”
“Not an option.”
“I agree, but these dunes aren’t going to be a cakewalk,” he said. “They’re whaleback dunes.”
They both knew what that meant. Whaleback dunes were dunes whose front incline was hard from being buffeted by the wind. It was the back half that could pose a problem. Depending on the direction of the wind, the sand could be crumbly and difficult to navigate.
He glanced at her. “You ready to do this?”
“I’ve been in since the beginning,” she said simply.
And with a slight smile that was more a tightening of his full lips, he slowed the Jeep. “When we reach them, watch the horizon, if it seems quite sharp at the top, then we have problems on the other side,” he said.
And she knew he meant there was the possibility of soft sand, softer than they had traveled through, and the type that could easily cause a rollover. The hope was that the sand on the other side of the dune was hard. Based on the way the wind had been buffeting them, she was sure they had a good chance of getting the latter.
He squeezed her hand and she looked down, aware of how large his hands were and, despite the gentle touch, how strong.
She pulled her hand from beneath his when all she wanted to do was to fold into his arms. There was no time for such thoughts. She forced her mind to the moment, to the challenge ahead of them.
“Let’s do this,” she said as if there was some chance that he wouldn’t. “I’m fine,” she added at the look of concern he gave her.
“You’re more than fine,” he said, turning his attention to the bank of dunes.
They eased over the dunes with little trouble, reaching the other side and finding the sand hard, buffeted by desert winds.
“Easier than we thought,” he said.
She nodded and let go of the grab bar. It was easy driving now compared to where they had just come from. She still couldn’t believe that finding Tara might be as easy as an ancient atlas and the words spoken by a dying man.
“I can see it,” she said. “El Dewar.”
He gripped the wheel as they recognized the first sign of something other than the endless sea of sand. A bit of green. An oasis. The place his parents had visited with Tara and Faisal on the last trip any of them had taken as a family before tragedy had intervened and changed the course of all their lives.
His lips tightened and she bet he was thinking of all that had transpired and of the urgency that felt almost crushing.
“The summer vacation we think she was referencing in that video,” Kate said.
He gave a brief nod as the Jeep bounced through a sand-packed gulley that seemed to run diagonally for a few minutes before they climbed to the top and the terrain became level again.
They drove in silence now, as they could see the oasis. It was small, as was the village it supported, and because of its isolation, she imagined that it likely saw few strangers. The usual sandstone-colored, square buildings huddled close together as if trying to escape the inhospitable desert.
Within minutes they were there.
As they got out of the Jeep, Kate was almost blinded by the sun as it reached its peak in the midday sky. But, still, it was cooler than usual for the time of year. She folded her arms across her chest as a cool breeze buffeted her, the palm trees rustling ahead of them. The fronds, moving back and forth in the center of the village, seemed, in an odd way, to almost welcome them.
A man in a fawn-colored aselham, the long robe skimming the tops of his feet as his sandals whispered quietly on the path that was hard-packed sand, walked past, continuing to stare as he moved. Farther away a man was filling a metal trough with water as two camels waited, reins dangling on the ground. A woman with a basket full of vegetables and a toddler clinging to her robe made her way into the center of the village, glancing back at them once and then continuing on her way. A group of women watched them and an old man smoking a cigarette was avidly following their progress. Everyone they’d seen was dressed in the traditional Berber aselham.
“Emir Al-Nassar,” Emir said, holding out his hand as a man in fawn-colored robes approached.
“Aqil,” the man returned with a slight nod of his head.
Emir didn’t introduce Kate and, unlike the last village, she didn’t volunteer. They needed information and shaking up the local culture in regard to their views on women wasn’t going to do it.
Still, she knew Emir could feel her eyes on him. She was letting him take the lead and honoring the customs of the community.
“I heard about your sister only this morning,” Aqil said in careful English. “Our internet is spotty. But, as you know, your family is well known.” He shrugged as the wind tugged at his clothes. He ran a hand through his gray-speckled beard. “We were lucky to have heard when we did. The wind is picking up. I doubt if we’ll get a connection again today or even in the next few days. That’s how it works.”
“I know you usually have your ear to the ground out here,” Emir said.
Aqil’s attention went to Kate and he frowned.
“We can talk alone,” Emir said as he followed Aqil’s gaze. “Stay here,” he said almost gruffly to Kate.
The command rankled her but it was Berber land and their rules. But there was one other thing she knew. It wasn’t just the men who were privy to things in this isolated village; the women had a key role in society in a different way than they were used to in the West or even in the city. Knowing that, hopefully between them they would learn something.
Emir looked at her like he wanted to smile at her but didn’t. Instead he let the amused smile on her face and her silence sit unacknowledged between them. But Aqil’s attention had turned to a man who had just approached and Emir took the opportunity to address her.
“You’ll be all right?” he asked in an undertone.
“I’ll be all right,” she said, although for the first time she felt slightly overwhelmed. No matter how much she’d studied, no matter her experience in Morocco, on this small tract of land they were thrown back in time and place and to the reality that she was a blond-haired American woman in Western clothing. She didn’t fit in.
“Speak to the elders first,” he advised and motioned to an elderly woman squatting beside an open fire. “If they accept you, the others may, too.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Kate?”
