The flames of the fire
flickered and died. The room plunged into darkness. The chandelier's crystal droplets clinked against the draft that crept into the room like a stealthy ghost. Trees moaned
against the walls, a lament of damned souls.
A white
flare fizzed through the room.
Delbar
leaped from her chair in front of the fire. Rough hands clamped her mouth. Her
arms wrenched behind her. She was thrown onto the couch where she lay on her
back, juddering with terror.
Damp
enveloped her in a watery cloak. What
is this? Water boarding? My hiding place discovered so soon?
She
struggled to see her assailant through the dark shadows…she saw no one…then…a
kaleidoscope of color swirled at the top of the staircase. It spilled onto the
stairs like molten metal tipped from a cauldron. Colored shadows glinted as
the liquid dripped downwards, then puddled at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mmmh...mmmh…ughh...” Delbar fought against the invisible
hand that pressed her lips together. Water continued to drip. Blinking through
the damp, she stared at the man who arose fully formed from the
puddle–face…limbs…body…hair…clothes. The garments were bright white as if lit
from within–baggy trousers, tunic, turban.
“Yaa Ilaahee!”*
Delbar struggled against the invisible ropes. She jerked from
side to side, moaning. Abruptly the binds loosed, the dripping stopped and she
could speak.
“Al…am?
Is…you..?” Water dribbled from her mouth. She brushed her hand across her face.
“No. You are dead! You died in the mountains! The Taliban killed you… I’m
dreaming…why was my mouth stopped and my arms tied…why did water nearly drown
me? Why..? Why..?”
He stepped
forwards, knees high, like he waded to shore from a turbulent ocean. He stopped a few meters from
her. Delbar smelt rosewater and spices, the strong scents of her homeland. Hair
escaped from under his turban, long and lustrous. The gray streaks in his beard
had gone as had the scars on his hands from that hideous time when he’d been
imprisoned and tortured during the Mujahedeen wars.
“So you
could feel me die.”
‘That was
cruel…I feared…for my life.” She reached for the rug that had fallen from her
shoulders, dabbed her mouth then hugged the soft wool to her chest and sobbed.
“But
you live. I’ve been waiting. So long. You’re here. I need you to trust this.”
He pointed to his body. “See me. Your Alam?”
She turned
away.
“Delbar...Delbar…Delbar…”
She spoke
to the room. “I’m dreaming, I know. What I see isn’t real. My husband is dead.
He’s in Paradise. A demon uses a husband’s body to trick a wife.”
“Delbar.
It is me. Look. This is no dream. I drowned.
The portal opened, the angels came. I turned back. I was to enter the Door, but
I answered, no, I’m not ready for Paradise.”
“DaabÃ
Ashkun!”** She clamped her hands
over her ears.
“My
Paradise is being with you.”
“No. Jannah
awaits you. If it is indeed you? My Alam would obey the angels. Go to your
reward.” She pointed to the door.
“My reward
is to be with you.”
“No. Jannah
awaits the righteous.”
“The
things I’ve done were not righteous. I’ve no business in Paradise with killers
of women and children. Scoundrels like me deserve to wander the earth, hungry, never
satisfied.”
“A soldier
under orders obeys orders. You tried to ease the suffering of the Afghani
people. Go to your blissful, happy life.”
“My
blissful, happy life is here. In my new body. You need me…”
“I need
Alam, but not this way. Continue your journey.”
“My
journey ends here.”
“No.
Leave. This is a trick. Go back to the portal if you are man, not demon.”
He dropped
to his knees as if shot. “Let me stay. One night?”
Dreamy
sensations flowed through her as she floated into a fantastical world. He has cast some spell over me. A
spell that holds me entranced. Her heart cried out for Alam. A tidal
wave of power suffused her–where before she was weak, now she was strong–where
before she had mourned, now her heart danced.
Alam
is here!
He saw her
thoughts.
He reached
down, tore the rug from her hands. He stroked her shoulder, testing her–chilly
hands, icy fingers. He sat on the edge of the couch. Embraced her.
Pressed her warm flesh against his coldness. Oh,
the chill! Icy lips found
hers.
Water
rushed down her throat–spurted out her nose–her eyes filled–overflowed. She
panicked. Pulled away.
“Stop!”
She cried.
Scrubbed her face with the rug.
“Relax,”
he said, “Control your fear. The drowning sensation will vanish. I promise.”
“Who are
you? Which demon has stolen Alam’s body?”
“I am
your Alam.” He kissed her again. “My precious wife.” His garments
disappeared as if by magic. Naked, he covered the length of her warm human
flesh with his otherworldly coldness.
“I
am so cold. The fire...” she said.
“This new
body has an enemy–fire.” He turned and blew into the fireplace. Flames lit up
the space. “But I can try to bear it…for you, my love.”
Her heart
leaped into the flood of pleasure offered by his arms. Do I care whether he is dead or undead, cold or warm, ghost or demon?
They lay
side by side. Stroke for stroke they sought remembrance of times past…but...something jarred...
Delbar
felt it creep along her nape. Something frightening, more frightening than what
she’d already experienced. She sensed absolute evil.
Too late
she saw the malevolent glint in eyes turned red. The beautiful face melted into
a hideous mask. The body bunched, the back humped, hands curled into claws
that raked her face. Pain stole her breath. The mass twisted into a formless
black that blasted putrid air over her like a toxic cloud. Hands forced her arms behind
her back. Filthy water poured down her throat. Life squeezed from her.
The flames
flickered…and died.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS:
* Yaa
Ilaahee! (Oh my God!)
** Daabà Ashkun!”* (No!)