Desert Stars by Joe Vasicek Page A

Beside them stood the reddish-brown adobe huts of the camp,
the ancient windmill outlined sharply against the deep blue sky.
Her eyes lingered on the faded brown tent that had served as the
bedroom for her and her older sisters since childhood. She imagined
Rina watching through the peephole and gave a weak smile. Beyond,
the dusty plain stretched out in all directions toward the
seemingly infinite horizon. Surrounded on all sides by harsh,
unforgiving desert, the camp seemed like the only safe place in the
world—and she was leaving it.
    “ Mira!” came Shira ’s voice from behind her.
“What are you waiting for, girl? The convoy’s leaving!”
    With a heavy heart, Mira swung her bag
around and hauled it toward the waiting convoy. The warm exhaust
from the rumbling engines licked at her face and caused the air to
ripple.
    Jalil ran to meet her. “Here,” he
said, “let me take that for you.” Before she could object, he
snatched the bag from her hand and threw it onto the
caravaneer.
    Sathi and Shira walked forward. As Zayne stepped back to join
them, Shira took her husband’s arm and
held onto him possessively, the way she always did when Zayne was
around.
    “ Jalil, my son,” said
Sathi. “I have something for you.”
    “ Yes?” said Jalil. “What’s
that?” He jumped down from the caravaneer and went to see his
father.
    Sathi reached into his light tan robes
and pulled out the gift. At the sight of it, Mira gasped—it was her
father’s gold- and bronze-plated sniper rifle, a priceless family
heirloom.
    “ What?” said Jalil, eyes
widening. “Father, I can’t—”
    “ Please take it, I beg of
you. Take it to remember us by.”
    “ But—but that’s your
grandfather’s rifle. I can’t possibly accept it.”
    Shira clucked in disapproval,
making Mira cringe.
    “ You would refuse my
parting gift?” Sathi asked, a wounded expression on his face.
“Please, my son—take it. I would be honored.”
    Jalil hesitated for a moment, torn
with indecision. Mira knew, of course, what her father was trying
to do. Any extra reason for Jalil to return would work in the
sheikh’s favor. The pre-emptive guilt written across Jalil’s face
showed that the ploy was working.
    “ Very well,” he finally
said, taking it carefully with both hands. “Thank you,
Father.”
    A broad grin spread across
Sathi’s face, and they embraced and kissed on both cheeks. As they
did, Shira turned and gave Mira a sharp
glance.
    “ Make sure he returns,”
she hissed under her breath. “Don’t come back without
him.”
    Mira shuddered. Her mother’s face was
veiled, but the look in her eyes was enough to tell Mira that she
was deadly serious.
    “ Goodbye, Shira ,” said Jalil, coming between
them. “I’ll miss you.”
    “ As will I,” said Shira . The fierceness had
evaporated instantly from her face, and she sniffled for effect.
Mira stiffened as her mother embraced Jalil, then turned back to
embrace her.
    “ I mean it,” she whispered
menacingly in Mira’s ear. “Don’t fail me.”
    The other goodbyes passed as if in a
daze. By the time it was over, Mira wanted nothing more than to
curl up by herself into a little ball.
    “ All right,” said Jalil as
the others returned to the camp. “You ready to go?”
    Mira hesitated for a moment, staring
off at the camp. Her knees grew weak, while behind her, an engine
revved, and the first of the caravaneers rode off across the dusty
plain.
    “ Mira?” said
Jalil.
    “ I’m coming,” she
whispered. Before she could say no, she climbed into the back of
the waiting caravaneer.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Jalil watched from the back seat as
the twilit desert raced by. His checkered headscarf fluttered in
the wind, and he squinted against the dust kicked up from the
caravaneers ahead of them. Thankfully, Hamza, their driver, kept
far enough out on the convoy’s flank that the billowing cloud
didn’t obstruct Jalil’s view. The mountains, once almost on the
horizon, now