It was only a short time before other
runners past them. Even one who had been passed by a majority of the runners
passed him. Each of them gave him a hopeless look and then moved on. Aadila had
locked her arms around his neck and was holding most of her weight by hanging
onto the straps on the packs. James was already sweating from the strain. At least
the first mile was mostly downhill. James managed a slow run all the way down
the grade, mostly because it was run or fall down. Once at the bottom he was
faced with a dry wash that was filled with small rocks, large boulders, and
trash of every possible description. There was a path, but it was crooked and
the brush nearly blocked it. Neither Aadila nor he could do anything to prevent
it from hitting them in the face. She had to hang on with both arms and he had
her wrapped in his arms. Finally Aadila just buried her face against his chest
and cried.
It was nearly two miles to the end of the wash from the top of the grade
where they had started. James made it almost to the end before he had to stop.
He spotted a large boulder where he could sit without going down or putting
Aadila down. He was almost standing up, but he could take the weight off his
legs and arms by leaning back against the boulder. This might be the last place
he would be able to do that without putting her down and sitting down himself.
He leaned there literally shaking he was so tired. His feet felt bruised from
the pounding of supporting all that weight while he tried to run. A lot of the
time he had stumbled more than run, but he had been moving. As he sat there
more runners passed him. He suspected that he would soon be the last runner. He
might be already. He wasn't sure how many had passed him already.
Aadila felt him slowing and then stop. She
also felt him shift slightly and rest her weight against his thighs. She could
feel his muscles quivering and shaking beneath her. He still had her cradled in
his arms and even the muscles in his arms were quivering from the strain that
had finally been reduced. She raised her face and released her grip on the
straps of their packs. She timidly reached over to lift and turn his chin so
that she could see his face. He tried to smile, but the sheer exhaustion and
pain in his eyes made her want to scream. She shook her head and whispered to
this stranger who was running himself to death for her. "You cannot do
this. You have tried, but it is finished. Put me down and you can still
finish. You have carried me farther than
I believed possible, but there are miles left.
You cannot go on like this. Please don't do this to yourself. You have
done all you can. It is enough."
James managed a smile, but he said nothing.
He simply closed his eyes and sat there holding her in his arms. Aadila looked
at him. Who was this man? Why would he do this for a total stranger? Her
thoughts were broken when he spoke softly. "There are still miles left to
go, but there are miles less too. I remember someone saying just let me rest
and then I will finish. Let me rest Aadila. Then we will finish." Tears
welled up in her eyes again. She couldn't look at him anymore. She buried her
face against his chest and began to weep. As she did she became of aware of his
heart beat. Her weeping slowly ceased as she listened to it. It was strong and
steady. Her heart was pounding, but not his. His was beating with a strong, steady
rhythm, Thump-thump, Thump-thump, Thump-thump, a steady solid rhythm, one that
never changed or faltered. It just beat with a steady soothing rhythm that
didn't change. Her own heart slowed as she listened to his.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she felt him gathering
himself beneath her. She felt those still quivering muscles began to tighten
and she felt him preparing to gather her up once again. She tightened her grip
on him, taking as much of her weight on her own arms as she could. He stood
slowly and with a slight shrug began to move again. Aadila buried her face
against him. How could he do this? Why would he? She felt his pace increase
slowly from a walk to a slow jog. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. She
remembered seeing him before. She had seen the cadre making him do extra reps
again and again. She had wondered what the fool had done. Had the fool done
something like this? Had he taken those reps for another? She knew the answer
in her heart. She knew that he had. Why had she thought him a fool? What kind
of man did that? He had done it for companions he knew, but now he did even
more for a stranger he didn't know at all. Who was he and why did he care about
her?
She heard no answer to her unspoken
questions. She heard only his heartbeat. It hadn't changed. It still drummed
out that same steady soothing rhythm, Thump-thump, Thump-thump, Thump-thump.
She lost all thoughts and just listened. Soon she began to wonder was it just
his heartbeat or the sound of his boots thumping on the ground too,
Thump-thump, Thump-thump, Thump-thump, the rhythm continued. She kept her eyes
closed and listened. She couldn't understand him. She couldn't help him. But
she had to do something to help him. She began to pray. She began to pray to
Allah. He might be a heathen, a Christian, but he was a good man. She would
pray for him. Allah would help him; someone just had to help him!
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