Nightmare in Morocco (2 page)

"Wait," said Taber, catching up with her and smiling at her discomfort
.
"In Morocco we never rush
.
It's considered undignified."

Noa slowed her pace to his
.
She felt comforted by his closeness
.

A raggedy looking boy started following them
.
He slid two thick silver bracelets from the collection on his arm and juggled them before Noa, speaking words of English
.
"You buy?"

Before she could reply for herself, Taber spoke for her,

"She doesn't have money to buy anything."

Discouraged by Taber's definite tone, the boy scurried away
.

"In Morocco the husband's word is still law," Taber explained with an arresting smile
.
"I often rescue women tourists from the street hawkers by posing as their spouse."

"I don't know if I like being taken for one of your wives."

The incident reminded Noa that Morocco was
a distinctly different culture.

"Would you rather own a stack of cheap jewelry?" Taber quipped. "The street peddlers can be very persistent, especially with pretty young American women."

"Since you put it that way,
thank you
.
I guess."

From the busy roadway they turned unto a cobbled path shaded by a thatched roof
.
The path led through a sunken garden whose lush green plants were a pleasant surprise after the hot, dusty street
.
Ahead of her now, Taber went through an archway into a large room braced by slender columns and tiled with spirals of tiny, green and brown
mosaics
.

Taber waited for her in the center of the room, his strong
features alert and dark against the white of his clothing
.
Noa was both flattered and disquieted by the way his glowing, black eyes gazed into hers, as if there were nothing else in the room, in the world, except her
.
He indicated a secluded table and sat down opposite her
.

He spoke in French to a man wearing a long, flowing garment and a Turkish style fez, who leisurely brought them tea
.
Noa's busy morning and her plans of declining Carlson Rand's offer began to take distance
.
She became slowly immersed in the atmosphere, so
exotically
Moorish.

Taber's dark eyes continued to watch her as she sipped the tea
.
The sweet, warm liquid, fragrant with mint, relaxed her.

"It's not Rick's Cafe," Taber said, referring to Humphrey Bogart's movie Casablanca, "but it is mine
.
I bought this
place last year, my personal retreat from the world."

"It's very beautiful."

"My home is only a short distance from here
.
Since I don't have a wife and I don't like to cook, I purchased a cafe."

"Logical."

"Here's some more logic for you," Taber said, leaning closer
.
"This is my first assignment as tour manager
.
That's why I must convince you to guide this tour
.
The success of this Moroccan venture is very important to
Mr.
Carlson
.
And to me
.
No one likes to begin a job by failing."

He looked as if he had never failed at anything
.
"You have at least fifty guides to choose from
.
Why me?"

"Because Wendell Carlson wants the very best
.
He says that's you."

"I'm afraid..."

Taber's lean hand covered hers for an instant, sending though Noa a tingle of excitement
.
His smile showed white, even teeth
.
"Number One Rule:
don't be afraid."

"I've always worked in Spain and Portugal
.
I don't know that much about Morocco."

"Noa, I'll make you a deal
.
You take this assignment, and I'll go along with you on the first tour
.
It will give me a chance to straighten out the problems that's bound to arise with a new venture
.
I'll take full responsibility and still give you full pay."
The dark eyes were so persuasive. "How can you refuse?"

"I have reasons
.
Personal ones."

Taber drank some tea as if he had accepted her answer as final
.
No doubt that would mean she would never see him again
.

She felt vaguely disappointed.

A woman seated on a stool at the bar now turned
.
Noa recognized her as the woman she had talked to on the ferry
.
Surprised, Noa waved to her.

Marie Landos stood up quickly, straightening the oatmeal colored suit that hung long and loose around her thin, angular body, and headed toward their table.

Noa caught the exchange of glance between Taber and her
.
She was
puzzled
at the change that came over him
.
His friendly, rather ironic tone became coldly formal
.
"Marie," he said, rising
.
"What brings you to Tangier?"

"We meet again," the woman said to Noa, then answered Taber, "Business
.
What else does one have at my age?"

"Won't you join us?"

"No
.
No, I just dropped by to see if Wendell was here
.
Whenever I'm in the neighborhood, I look for him
.
It seems I've chased him over continents."
She gave a brief, brittle laugh and said to Noa, "Elusive men are so charming."

"He's still in London
.
Is there something I can help you with?"
 

"Nothing, Taber
.
I heard he's starting a tour through here
.
I might just book it for the girls at St. Theresa's
.
Anyway, tell Wendell I'll catch him on the next trip."

Taber seemed relieved as she made her quick exit. "Marie Landos teaches travel study classes at an exclusive girls' school in Madrid
.
A real cosmopolite, from the old school
.
With the same problem all of you Americans have
excessive speed."

Taber unfolded a brochure from his pocket, smoothing the yellow map and saying, "Fez, Rabat, Casablanca, Marrakech
.
Have you ever been to Marrakesh?
Exciting!
The Sahara Desert begins just beyond
.
Here,"
he indicated a spot near Marrakesh, "I had planned to teach you to ride a camel
.
You'll never get such an opportunity again."

Noa smiled at the thought of their riding together through the desert
Noa and her sh
e
i
k
.
Wouldn't it be fun touring with him, learning from him?
She thought of the long, lonely years during her father's illness and death, when all thoughts of freedom and romance were
suppressed
.
She suddenly wanted very much to accept this offer
.
Nothing was keeping her from it except a silly, childish fear she should have long ago put aside.

Taber seemed to pick up on her thoughts. "Because my mother was a native of Morocco, I have Morocco in my heart."
He hit his flat hand against his chest
.
"I could teach you about these people, who are one half mine
.
And with knowledge, you will find
accept
ance
.
Acceptance," he said, "is the key!"

Noa still had qualms, but asked hesitantly. "When does the tour began?"

"One month and three days from now
.
It starts right here in Tangier."

Should she change her mind because of the fact that she was drawn to him?
Her heartbeat quickened as she gazed into his eyes.

"Please, Noa, say you'll be our first guide!
Work this tour with me!"

Noa felt a little hypnotized by the smoldering, dark eyes that refused to be rejected
.
The very force of them seemed to be drawing words from her, words she felt in her heart she shouldn't speak
.
"All right," Noa said, "I'll sign up for just this one
.
After that, I'll make no promises."

* * *

On the ferry heading back to Spain, Noa wondered what had caused her sudden change of mind that even her long friendship with Wendell Carlson could not have accomplished
.
She sat on one of the deck chairs and watched the white capped waves and the receding shoreline
.
A month seemed like such a very long time. She saw an image of Taber's face and with it a return of her fascination
.
She had not experienced such an instant attraction for anyone before
.
She knew she had accepted this tour only because she had wanted to see Taber Rand again!

Upon Noa's arrival at her estate in Algeciras, a telegram awaited her
.
It's very presence seemed a forewarning of bad news
.
She hastily put the rest of her mail aside to read its urgent message.

Frightened by the cold briefness of it, she read and re read the words: Mike's ill
.
Come quickly
.
No doubt her brother's adopted daughter, Cathy, had sent it, but it had no signature.

With trembling fingers, she put a call through to Cathy
.
Their conversation reaffirmed what she had feared the most
.
Mike had suffered a second heart attack a few days ago
.
He had been taken to Memorial South, where he was still in Intensive Care.

Noa was relieved she had nothing scheduled before the Moroccan tour, making it possible for her to make immediate preparations to leave for New York
.
If only she could be there immediately!
The eight hour flight would give her too much time to think, too many hours to sit, alone and afraid
.

Noa and her brother were very close
.
Since their father's death two years ago, his calls and letters had come with faithful regularity
.
She knew that Mike had never quite recovered from that last heart attack in May
.
But, of course, he had refused to slow down
.
Now, something about talking to Cathy on the phone sounded tragically final
.
Noa tried to prepare herself for what she was certain to find
.
Tears filled her eyes
.
Mike!
What would she ever do without him?

The long, dismal hours of flight gave no answer.

From talking to Cathy on the phone, Noa had received the impression that the girl would meet her at Kennedy Airport, but no one was waiting
.
She stayed for a while in the terminal, then lingered outside where a damp wind whipped at her hair and clothing
.
She should have known better
.
The girl had never liked her
.
And deep in Noa's heart, although she pretended otherwise, she had never liked or accepted Cathy
.
Perhaps Mike had ruined her
trying to make up for the fact that she was adopted, for the fact that his wife had left them when the girl was only three
.
Cathy was the source of Mike's many unhappy letters proclaiming the trials of the single parent.

In spite of exhaustion, of jet lag, Noa still took a cab directly to Memorial South
.
A nurse at the entrance to the Intensive Care Unit rose at her inquiry
.
Noa's heart sank at the solemn
ess that crept into her voice
.
"You must be the sister?"

Noa's heart pounded
.
"May I see him?"

The stout nurse came around the desk and took her arm
.
"My dear..." she said
.
The deep silence that followed, the lack of words itself, told Noa that her fears had become stark reality
.
Mike was gone!