Veil of Silence Read Free Page A

was wonderful after years of using only whatever they managed to make.  The rough-feeling soaps that they created were a far cry from these manufactured luxuries.  Marsha loved the feel of the soap in her hair.  She found a brush on the vanity, and after squeezing out the excess water, brushed out her long curls.  She remembered how proud Zabi had been of her hair as it grew.  He had hated the short length that she previously worn as a necessity of being in the army.  Not that all women felt that way, but Marsha had liked the ease of caring for short hair back then.  She looked at herself in the mirror.  She looked very different from the woman who had gotten into that helicopter however long ago it had been.  Rough living had aged her.  Childbearing had aged her.  Zabi and his beatings had aged her.  She’d fought back at first, but the sheer number of beatings had worn her down.  Not wishing to be gang raped, she had succumbed to Zabi.  He felt he had tamed the American lieutenant, but he also respected this warrior woman in his own way.  Roughly translated, lieutenant was lomri baridman. She’d forgotten the meaning, but he was proud that he had conquered her.  At least Marsha let him think he had…to avoid gang rape and to avoid the beatings as much as possible.
    She looked at the hair under her arms, wondering if there was a razor, but not bothering to look for it.  The hair on her legs had gotten to a certain length and stopped growing.  She wondered again how long it had been since she had shaved away these excesses.  She closed her eyes for a moment, luxuriating in the fact that she didn’t have to answer to anyone at the moment. 
    She toweled off once more.  She was tempted to use the hair dryer, but knew it would terrify her children.  Even a car, the jeep she had managed to steal, had terrified them until they got used to it.  A robe had been provided for her just like in a hotel and she put her arms through the sleeves, feeling ‘normal’ for the first time.  She hung up her towel and looked around the bathroom, a luxury she hadn’t seen in forever, and turned out the light.
    Suddenly curious, she went to the door of the room and opened it.  It was not locked.  In fact, she saw there was no lock on the inside.  Looking out into the hall, she saw an armed marine from the embassy security detail come to attention when he saw her.  She nodded stiffly and withdrew back into the room.  Of course they would have her watched.  It wasn’t unlike being back in the village.  She was watched, all the time she was watched.  Now, it was by her own people.  Only now, instead of being that American woman who some despised, she was that American deserter, at least she suspected that’s probably what they thought of her.  She didn’t blame them.  She wouldn’t believe her story either.
    Approaching the bed, she saw that the children were soundly asleep.  Exhaustion had played a role in that.  They had been afraid for days, hungry and afraid, and the combination had made them all a bit weary.  She smiled.  That was an understatement!  She had been terrified that Zabi or his men would find her, that they would find where she had gone.  She’d deliberately turned east to throw them off her trail once she left their mountain roads.  The asphalt highway had hidden her tracks well when she turned around and made her way west toward civilization.  The highway had been like a river of lava to her and she sped along as quickly as the vehicle allowed.  She had left the jeep only when she got into Kabul.  She had run out of gas and had been too afraid to purchase more.  Keeping her head covered, her eyes lowered, and carrying the children when they couldn’t, or wouldn’t walk, she had made her way down Airport Road to the Great Massoud Road where she knew the American embassy was located.  She was grateful to be able to sleep in a bed, a real bed, with her children.  She sent up a