Saturday, September 13, 2014

Chapter Four - part eight

   James shut out all thoughts except for his next step. He hadn't been sure he could stand up again, but he had. Now he was afraid that if he stopped it would be the end. At least he was becoming numb to most of the pains that had started as he was trying to make it past that dry wash. Now the only real issue was the impact of each step as he ran. It felt like he was kicking a solid rock with all his strength every single time his feet hit the ground. He could feel the impact from the bottom of his foot all the way to his shoulders. It was a jarring, bone numbing, impact that just went on and on. At least Aadila was no longer crying or worse weeping silently on his shoulder. He just hoped she had the strength and the will to keep holding her weight off of his arms. He had thought he would drop her when he had stood up to start again. He would have if she hadn't suddenly grabbed on and pulled herself up. In spite of everything he was still glad he had made this decision. It was likely going to mean the end of his efforts to become an officer in the Air Force. That wasn't important though. This was.
   James mind was locked on that one thought. This mattered. It mattered more than his future or Aadila's future. Something was very wrong here. It had to be changed. He had to try to change it. It was wrong to selectively harass and drive good people out. It was wrong to abuse your power by abusing those you were responsible for. It had to stop. Someone had to show people that they wouldn't allow it to happen. James didn't know if he could change anything else, but he could change this. All he had to do was keep running. Just one more step. One more step; one more step and eventually he would reach the end. He would take that last step. Maybe that would be at the finish line he was supposed to cross. Maybe it wouldn't be. Either way it would be an end. It would be the end of this run. It would also be the beginning of something else, maybe something better.
    The cadre no longer yelled or screamed at them. They just stared in disbelief as Cooper jogged by. He was almost staggering, but he just kept going. They would blink and move closer to make sure they really saw what they saw. It was that Christian guy. It was Cooper, the one who just wouldn't break. Now what was he doing. He had another Doolie, that Muslim girl, in his arms and two packs on his back and he was running with them. They no longer stood waiting for the next runner to pass. There were none left. Cooper and Aadila were the last two. How far had he carried her? How far could he carry her? The new cadre would ask those who were already jogging along behind. Only then would they notice the bloody gauze wrapped around Aadila's feet and the new boots slung around her neck. Why would he do this? He was Christian and had never hesitated to say it when asked. In fact he had sounded proud to say it. She was Muslim. She prayed three times a day, even though she had to do extra reps each day because of it. What was a Christian doing carrying a Muslim?
    James wasn't even aware of the cadres who now followed them. His only thought, his only goal, was to take just one more step. Another mile passed by, but he wasn't even aware of it. On he ran. He dared not stop or even slow down. Only the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the ground kept him upright. His legs were almost numb now and his feet were numb. His lungs felt like they were on fire and he thought his arms were going to break. Still he ran. There was nothing else that mattered now. He just had to run. Somewhere along the way a soft sound started to penetrate his pain dazed thoughts. It was a while before he realized what that sound was. When he did; it made him try to smile. He would have laughed, but he just didn't have the strength. It was Aadila's voice. It was barely a whisper, but it was constant. It was as constant as his footfalls on the ground and almost seemed to be in the same rhythm. She was praying. She was praying to Allah. She was praying to Allah for him.
   As Cooper ran the number of cadre following continued to increase. They no longer spoke. They just trotted along watching and wondering when this would end. Another mile passed by. Four miles, Cooper had carried over 275 pounds at a steady jog for four miles now. It was impossible, but he had done it. There were dozens of cadres following now. Those who were ahead of him now came to meet this crowd. Finally one of the cadres moved forward and caught up with this strange pair. He had to do something. This couldn't go on. Cooper was going to collapse and die if he didn't stop this madness and soon. The cadre tried to talk to him, but if James heard he gave no sign. Even Aadila paid no attention. The only change was her prayers seemed to become louder. Finally the cadre reached over and touched James on the shoulder as he spoke. "Cooper, listen to me. You can't keep this up. You are barely sweating. You are going to pass out. You have to rest and drink or you are going to have a heat stroke. Please, for God's sake listen to me!"

    James heard those words, 'for God's sake listen to me', that he heard. He grunted and struggled to speak. He was barely able to whisper, but Aadila heard and understood. She quickly released one hand and reached for the tube secured on his right shoulder. James staggered as more of her weight settled on his arms, but he regained his balance and kept moving. Aadila lifted the tube to his mouth and he tried to drink. It was hard to do while running, but he couldn't even bare to think of stopping. Minutes passed as he took small sip after small sip of water. The cadre running beside them had watched and then dropped back. He had dropped to his knees and began to cry. He had never seen anything like this before. A Christian carrying a Muslim woman while she prayed to Allah to protect him, maybe there was a god. He had to wonder after seeing this. It was the same cadre who had been screaming at Aadila when James had first arrived.

    After that James continued to drink when Aadila would raise the tube to his mouth. She would call his name to warn him now before shifting to take the tube to his mouth. The water had helped. He had forgotten to drink. He had forgotten everything. He had even forgotten to pray. Now he prayed silently as he continued to run. Over and over he asked for the strength to go just one more mile and thanked the Lord for every step closer he came.  Three times he fell when they came to another one of the steep grades. Each time he would lay there struggling for breath to ask Aadila if she was hurt. The cadre rushed forward the first two times and tried to get them to stop. Each time James would push them away and force himself back up. The third time some of the cadre held the rest back. Among them was the firstee, Samuel, who had been at services each Sunday. He said little, but he made it clear that nobody was to interfere with the pair.

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