Lovely concubine

BY BIANCA MATTOS

           Anyway, after hours of a cruel trip, where I try to disguise my claustrophobia, the plane lands in Qatar at fourteen o'clock.

           I walk down the escalators, still a little hesitant, watching carefully if my veil is in place and if I am dressed discreetly.

            This is the first time I leave Brazil. Unfortunately, I did not get the time off from work to come to Brenda's wedding, but after much begging my boss at the UFRJ National Museum, I got a vacation and did not even believe it when Brenda said that my brother-in-law, Youssef, would pay the cost of my trip to Qatar.

            I still do not know him, but I think he must be a guy with a lot patience, because of Jo, to put up with my sister's madness, he must be a man with a lot of Tibetan calm.

            But they deserve this happiness, only I know how much my ears have been listening to Brenda's wailing because of Youssef's difficult genius.

           We have always been very different. My older sister is an example, of a well-settled, independent, vibrant woman.

           I really wanted to be like this ...

           I'm ashamed to speak in front of the mirror. An archaeologist trained with praise, the best grades of my class of trainees, twenty-three years old, beautiful and still a virgin?! I will soon become an aberration, an object of scientific study.

          The truth is that I panic when I run into men, I just do not know how to act, what to say. This exciting game of seduction was made for lionesses, I'm more of a trembling and frightened hare.

          The doors of the airport exit open, and I get the whiff of a warm air from this warm land. I see about ten yards away, a tall man in a grey suit, very handsome and smiling.

          He holds a sign with my name written on it. I greet him with my head, I’ve researched the local customs, and I know that public demonstrations of affection are not very welcome here in the Middle East.

         -Marhaban, is it Miss Bianca Mattos?

         - Yes, it’s me.

         -Nice to meet you, I'm Youssef, your sister Brenda's husband.

          I give him a half smile and I'm being led to a Jeep Cherokee, heading to meet Brenda who's waiting for me at Antonia's house.

          Antonia, Brenda and I, have always been inseparable friends. Tonia always had more affinity with my sister, but when I needed sensible advice, it was me she was looking for, craziness and rages I leave for Brenda, I like my feet well on the ground.

          I am received by Antonia and her husband, Sheikh Hafiq.

         She looks even more beautiful and now looking at Brenda, jumping like crazy to see me,     I imagine there must be some chemical element in the water of this land that makes women look more beautiful and happier.

          They both look so good, beautiful and light, without that frown on their forehead that I always carry. Maybe one day I will also learn to relax a little and let my life lead me, without debating with me like I am trapped animal.

           I'm staying at the Hassan's house, because Brenda's house is under renovation, they're renovating one room for Youssef's mother and another one for her future child. Or maybe he's on the way, and Brenda did not have the heart to tell me yet.

           Antonia and Sheikh Hafiq are preparing a dinner to commemorate my arrival.

           It’s been a long time since I felt so relaxed, in one place.

           After the end of my engagement to Miguel, I think it's the first time I've had a good night's sleep.

           Sheikh Hafiq made available one of his security guards to accompany me on a tour, and I at this very moment, I am going around the city in the Quatar’s Government official car.

          He was extremely kind, but escorted walking is completely unnecessary; however, in order not to offend him, I decide to accept his hospitality.       

          I took the day off to go to the antiques trade in downtown Doha.

Doha is a very interesting city, full of ancient monuments; for an archaeologist, this place is an amusement park, unfortunately I don’t think I will have time to deepen my visit to certain places, I would like to take photos, go to more museums and libraries to search for some old documents.

           I stop at a Tea house and two mischievous men are whispering at me, they must be confusing me with someone, I think I'd better leave.

          When we are on the way back, Thomas, the security guard, knocks my soul away from the body, when he says to me:

          -Miss, I do not want you to panic, but I'll have to take a shortcut, I think we're being followed.

         I look back and there are two black cars after us.

         I begin to sweat cold, but I must keep control, otherwise it will be worse, it may be Thomas's imagination.

         The last few minutes unfold like an action movie; the most appalling is that I am the main character.

          One of the cars drove past the car we were in, and closed the exit on the road.

          Thomas has to brake, causing the car in which we are, skidding in the middle of the street.

           Three hooded men get out of the car and point guns at us.

          My God, it's not Thomas's impression, we're screwed.

          They take Thomas out of the car, dropping a blow in the nape of his neck.

          He collapses.

           I start screaming for help, I scream and I cry tremendously unable to close my lips, my teeth beat against each other without stopping.

         My mind only revolves around three words, which hammer in my mind, like a devilish mantra:

         I will die, I will die ...

        They pull me out of the car, putting a black hood over my head and dragging me into their car.

          I feel someone squeezing my arm, an uncomfortable pressure like an injection, and then the full pinch.

         Deep sleep and nothingness.

         I now get a message on my phone, glad they were punctual, I hate waiting. All the steps are proceeding according to what I planned. The plane will soon land in Manama, and I'm about to start taking revenge on this family of murderers.

         Karim Omar, former king of Qatar, this unfortunate worm will pay for all the atrocities that he has done. Our countries were once allies, we had common interests, oil brought us together to join forces.

          But it has turned into a succession of miseries since Sheikh Karim denied the bombing that killed my family. After many investigations, it was clear that he was the head of this crime.

          So, I'll act as expected from a soulless body, a man torn apart.

          An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

          Queen Antonia will be the object of my revenge and I'm just getting started.

          I had her installed in the room next to mine, I'm going to take her body in every possible way, and then I'll make sure that she dies on the main TV and radio stations.

         I will take the necessary courage, courage takes me in the same proportion as my pain.

Enough of mercy, it is inherent in humans.

          And I lost my humanity at the very moment I received the incomplete remains of the bodies of my wife and my little girl.

          I do not know how long they put me out for, I'm still kind of groggy. I look around me and I'm lying in a huge four-poster bed, with black satin sheets, soft and comfortable.

          Even seeing a little blurry, I realize that the walls of the room are painted in shades of gold and pale pink. All very feminine and very exquisite. It looks like a castle bedroom.

          The door opens and the light in the hallway makes me even more dizzy.

          Out of the shadows appears a very tall man, in his mid-thirties, dark-haired, beard and a short goatee, very well-trimmed, the features of his face are stiff and rough.

           His arched eyebrows and very long lashes, his frame is large, hot brown eyes, like two pieces of burning wood.

            I don’t remember ever seeing someone so handsome and at the same time, so scary.

           He walks towards me, barefoot, wearing a thin white nightgown, in the dimness of the room, I notice his athletic forms jumping through the delicate fabric.

           I dare trying to talk to him.

          - Get me out of here, please. Do you understand what I say? I do not speak Arabic, do you understand my English? Damn it, I should haved dedicated myself more to my lessons with Kevin.

         He looks at me with surprised air.

        - Who's Kevin? Your lover?

        Listening to the name of another man does not please me, I look for the reason for this discomfort and I don’t find it. By analysing her closely I see that she is pretty, not pretty! Beautiful to be more precise. Much more than I thought. Ever since Ishna passed away, I did not find such an interesting woman. How old is she? She seems too young to be the mother of three children.

        -Oh, thank God you understand what I say. Some guys kidnapped me, I don’t know why. I'm poor, my sister will not have the money to pay the ransom. Please help me get away.

         He comes closer to my bed and his gaze undresses me uncomfortably, the "mysterious man" has a sarcastic air, I don’t know if I like it.

        -I'm sorry I cannot help you.

        Blue? Her eyes have an absurdly clear blue shade, it looks like the Aegean Sea, same as the shades of the Greek seas. Why am I admiring the damned eyes of this woman like an idiot? Why am I paying attention to her eyes, if she's going to be dead soon, anyway? Your calm sea eyes will serve for no purpose at all.

       -Why can you not help me?

       -Because I was the one who kidnapped you. You look very young, how old are you, girl?

Is he involved in my kidnapping? Is he the principal? But why? I have no dime on me, oh my God! My good saint from Penha! Himself and his partners are going to ask for a huge ransom and Brenda will not have it. Oh, I'm going to die.

        I WILL DIE! OH, MY GOD! I WILL DIE.

       When I realize, I am speaking these words, louder and louder.

       -Yes, you're going to die, but you could be a little politer and stop yelling in my ear, it only irritates me even more.

        My God, this guy is completely crazy, why does someone so beautiful have to be so crazy?

         -But you must have a boss, the man in charge, I want to talk to him, my family has no money, why did they do this to me? Take me to my sister's house, her name is Brenda, please, her house is near the centre of Doha, it should not be late yet, probably eight o'clock at night, if you take me now…I should be at home.

         The door of the room opens and one of the men who has kidnapped me curves lightly on the trunk and speaks with the "crazy cutie":

         -Your Majesty, I must speak to you immediately, an unexpected situation happened.

        -Wait for me at the office, Jafar, I'll talk to you.

        The guy bows again, and he is still standing.

        He raises an arrogant eyebrow and tells the man to leave us alone.

        Of course, there is a problem. I am a newly formed archaeologist, I have no place to live, much less where to die. I am still paying the university credit, by kidnapping me what will you get? A Riocard pass and fifty dollars? So much logistics for nothing.

Kidnapping a poor, ordinary woman has no logic at all. Not even for a crazy guy like him.

Wait, the guy just called him Majesty, what the fuck is going on here?

         -Why did he call you majesty?

         He looks at me with an annoying sarcasm and almost smiles.

        -I thought you westerners were smarter. Obviously, why should anyone be called majesty? Today I am generous, so I will give you three options. Option one: Am I the janitor of the Mosque? Option Two: A Merchant of Flying Rugs? Oh, maybe I'm Aladdin himself. Look, girl, I give up, I don’ t have the patience for games. I am the king of this country, Nahan Zayn Asi Tarif. And taking you to your home in Qatar will not be possible, you are in Manama, Bahrain.

          Good Heaven! He's the king of this country, I've never heard of this place, where is it? Is it near Qatar? I'm stuck here with this psycho guy, he thought about killing me and I do not even know why I'm going to die.

         Why life is so ironic.

          I am born and raised in Rio de Janeiro, where there are the most dangerous neighbourhoods in the country and the first time I leave Brazil, I will die in this completely unknown place, where my sister will never find me.

         I think of all this and without trying to contain myself, I cry ... I cry because I'm so young,      I have not yet lived, so much that I dreamed of.

         She cries and without my will, my heart is filled with disturbing sensations.

         She seems to be so young, I think less than 21 years, her eyes are so blue, alive, inquisitors.

        Her lips full, she is delicate.

        The very white skin and the blond hair falling through the narrow shoulders, give it an aspect of fragility.

         I look at her on the bed, the pallor of her figure contrasting with the black satin and my legs lead me to her, without my wanting, like a magnet.

         Your body has soft, irritatingly feminine shapes, it takes my focus away, much, more than I would like.

          What's happening to me? Why do I feel this attraction for her, I look and look again, unable to take my eyes off that girl.

          If she was not another man's wife, I don’t think I would think twice, I'd take her for myself, no chance of letting her escape.

         Focus, Focus Nahan.

         Let her cry, this is all a feminine trap to soften your heart.

         Remember ... go with the plan. That's what you have to do!!!

         STOP LOOKING AT HER ...

         That way you can finish it. Focus to stage the whole show, to contact Sheikh Karim or his son, the current ruler of Qatar, Prince Hafiq Hassan.

          Tell them the reason his wife is being sacrificed. Remind them of my family's still fresh blood on their hands and kill her.

           Just like my Ishna, just like my little Amira, my little girl.

           She will have to die, even if my male instincts are begging me to claim her.

           That's what I'm going to do. My desire for a woman will never overlap my king commitments.

            I will never do that.

Never.