“Please.” It was a struggle to speak and even more of a fight to keep his eyes open. Sleep beckoned, and he craved the release from the pain wakefulness produced.
Ibrahim’s eyes darkened with an emotion Mark was unable to read. “I won’t leave you; no, my friend, it is not possible.”
“Go,” Mark whispered again from between his parched lips. “Get your family to safety. I’m too weak.”
“You will make it,” Ibrahim insisted. “I give you my strength. Shatha gives you her strength, too. We go as one. What is it you Americans say? No man left behind. I more American now than Iraqi. I not leave you behind. What you say—no way? I say no way I leave you.”
Mark did his best to argue, to make this man and his family understand. “Once you’re in the States, Jo Marie will help you.”
Again Ibrahim shook his head, refusing to listen. “You will introduce her to us.”
Mark closed his eyes and tried to picture the scene in his mind. Jo Marie at his side, his arm around her as they sat on her veranda overlooking the cove, chatting with Ibrahim and Shatha. The children would be playing with Rover on the grass, tossing him a Frisbee. The scene was so vivid in his mind he could almost hear Rover barking in the distance.
“I help you.”
Ibrahim placed his arm behind Mark’s back and raised him to a sitting position. He immediately slid to one side, unable to garner the strength to remain upright. The world started going around in dizzying circles.
“It’s no good,” Mark whispered. He would hold back the entire family and put Shatha and the children at risk. He refused to do that, refused to allow them to lose everything after they’d come so far and were so close.
“I’m not crossing the border without you,” Ibrahim repeated, “and we need to cross today.”
Ibrahim’s words were laced with the steel threads of determination.
“Why today?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Ibrahim.”
“I have connections, too,” his friend said with a sly grin. “My cousin’s cousin works as a border agent, but he said you must sit up because of cameras.”
Slowly Mark nodded. If it hadn’t been for Ibrahim and Shatha’s extended family, they would never have made it to this point.
“You nearly died three times,” Ibrahim told him, “but Shatha and I wouldn’t let you. All will be well soon, I promise.”
Mark desperately wanted his friend’s words to be true. He could manage to remain upright for a bit, but what strength he did possess was quickly fading.
After traveling several hours, Mark asked, “How close are we?”
“A mile, maybe two.”
He would do what he could to stay upright.
Ibrahim gave him water, which Mark drank as best he could. He rested his head back against the car seat until they were close to the border crossing. It was then that he felt Ibrahim stiffen at his side.
With effort, Mark raised his head. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Ibrahim released a slow, troubled breath. “They have changed the guards. Abd-al-Jawwad isn’t at the crossing.”
I continued with my morning runs, avoiding the house on Bethel Street for the first few days. Another encounter with Nick Schwartz wasn’t something I welcomed. Seeing how adamant he was, I had no wish to trespass on his land. I’ll admit, though, I missed seeing Elvis.
On Thursday before the Fourth, out of the blue, I decided to deviate from my newly established route and run past the house. I had no reason to do so, no excuse other than the fact I wanted to see it again—one last look, because there was no need to torture myself with something I couldn’t have.
As I rounded the corner of Bethel and the house and orchard came into view, I saw Elvis lying on the concrete walkway that led to the front porch. As soon as he spied me, he stood and walked to the edge of the property, sticking his nose through the fence slats.
I couldn’t ignore this precious dog, even at the risk of butting heads with his owner.
Pausing, I leaned forward and placed my hands on my knees while I caught my breath. “Morning, Elvis.”
He wagged his tail as if he was genuinely pleased to see me.
“I’ve missed you.”
The screen door opened and Nick Schwartz stepped onto the porch and into the shadows and glared at me. It was almost as if he was daring me to set foot on his property. I had to