Syrian Odyssey

by Tom Peters

6/6/2021

The family is separated on the double-decker jumbo jet. The matriarch, Ebrahiem's mother, is holding my hand as she sleeps. My dear friend Ebrahiem is on a personal crusade to help find his youngest brother and convince remaining family to flee Syria and join their extended families in the US. His sons are four rows behind us. We land the next day; all seems to go well at the airport but from the look on my friend’s face, were being followed. We split up into two taxis. I'm with him and his mother, while his sons, George and Abdullah take another taxi and convinced the driver to take a different route to their hometown, Afrin. On the 6-hour drive, Ebrahiem describes his country of origin as his quiet mother still holds my hand. The site of the civil war’s devastation along the journey brings both passengers to tears. We arrive in Afrin at sundown and drive to a park near the center of town, the designated rendezvous location to meet his sons. Nearby several locals are huddled together. Ebrahiem pays the driver then the three of us exit to stretch our legs. We walk toward the small group; some turn our way and expose an empty grave. They recognize Ebrahiem and his mother; some look pleased, others fearful. A man wearing a brightly colored sash is running towards us screaming and waving for us to disperse. Ebrahiem and I carry his mother to a pharmacy across the street, sit her down and tell her to stay there until we return. The pharmacist cries out in Arabic for us to stay put. Ebrahiem waves him off to go look for George and Abdulla. We spot the man with the sash sitting alone on the edge of the grave. As we approach a shot is fired and the man falls into the empty hole. We scurried back to check on his mother. The pharmacist tells us this was all prearranged.
A sacrifice. The mayor dies and the city is spared from more violence. As crazy as his explanation sounded, Ebrahiem was convinced it was safe enough to go back out. Just then, we look across the park to spot George and Abdullah's taxi slowly coming to a stop. The driver pops out of the vehicle, and it instantly becomes engulfed in flames. Ebrahiem and I run towards the burning taxi, my wife JoAn shows up out of nowhere and grabs me. "Don't become part of this – it's his mother's nightmare." "No, no… I have to help the boys, I scream, I have to help." "No, it’s 3am and you have to do is wake up and go to the bathroom.”