Cursed to a foreign land

The Choice

The pocket fabric pressed against Zeddle's face as Salim's thundering footsteps jolted him back and forth. Muffled shouts and gunfire echoed through the thick material. Zeddle squeezed his eyes shut.

Salim's ragged breathing filled the cramped space.

The force of each footfall was enough to send Zeddle crashing into the sides of the pocket.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth with each step the giant took.

"Left!" Jason's voice boomed from somewhere outside. "Cut through that alley!"

The world tilted as Salim veered sharply. Zeddle tumbled head over heel inside the pocket. He scrambled to right himself, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Angry voices swelled behind them, barely audible over the rush of blood in Zeddle's ears. He flinched as bullets ricocheted nearby with metallic pings.

The CENCOM people were hot on their tails.

A final burst of gunfire, then blessed silence. Salim slowed to a stumbling jog. "I think we lost them."

They finally came to an abrupt halt, and Zeddle's stomach lurched as he tumbled onto the bottom of Salim's pocket, now damp with sweat. The pocket's opening widened a moment later, and the cool air washed over him.

Salim's hand plunged into the pocket. Zeddle shrank back with a squeak of surprise as enormous fingers closed around him.

"Shh, it's alright," Salim soothed, lifting Zeddle up to his face. "We made it. You're safe." Salim looked Zeddle over, noticing his nauseated face.

"Almost there, little one," Salim whispered reassuringly, his voice strained but tender. He deposited Zeddle back into his pocket, murmuring soft words in his native language as he began moving once more.

Zeddle's could tell when they climbed onto the cargo ship, the pocket moved back and forth with the rhythm of the rocking motion. It was hard for the tiny boy to keep his balance. He settled into the corner of the pocket. His stomach was upset, with a feeling of nausea.

Salim's hand cupped protectively around the outside of the pocket.

Zeddle swallowed hard, his throat dry. The air in the pocket was stifling, heavy with the scent of sweat and fear, and the added weight of the giant hand did not help.

The boat shuddered as it pulled away from the dock. The motion would have sent him tumbling head over heels if it wasn't for the weight of the hand keeping him in place.

Salim's fingers dipped into the pocket, gently scooping Zeddle into his palm. Zeddle blinked up at him, his vision blurred with tears.

"I've got you," Salim murmured, cradling Zeddle against his chest. "Just breathe. Nice and slow."

Zeddle tried to obey, but his lungs didn't seem to be working properly. Each breath caught in his throat, sharp and painful. He was dimly aware of Jason and the others talking in low, urgent voices, but their words sounded muffled and far away.

Salim stroked Zeddle's back with one finger, his touch impossibly gentle for someone so huge. "You're safe with me, remember? I promised I would protect you, and I meant it."

Zeddle sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He was drenched in sweat, his clothes clinging to his skin. The heat radiating off Salim's body was almost unbearable, but Zeddle couldn't bring himself to pull away.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammered, his voice hitching. "I'm trying to be brave, but I...I'm just so scared."

"Shh, none of that." Salim soothed.

Zeddle curled into Salim's touch, letting the steady thrum of the giant's pulse soothe his frayed nerves.

He soon fell into a fitful sleep.

The journey felt impossibly long to Zeddle.

He spent most of his time in Salim's pocket or curled up in the palm of his hand. He tried to keep food down, but the constant rocking of the ship upset his stomach.

Zeddle slept for most of the journey, paying no mind to the conversations going on around him. The giant humans' whispers to each other became background noise for Zeddle.

Zeddle woke to a light poking to his side. Salim was gently shaking him awake with his pointer finger.

"Zeddle, wake up," Salim whispered.

Zeddle, feeling confused and disoriented, looked up at him. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Salim hesitated; his expression conflicted. "It's just... you have a choice to make."

"A choice?"

"Yes. We're almost to our destination....... You can stay with me and my son, Zain, in England. We would take care of you, keep you safe." Salim's voice was soft, almost pleading. "Or, if you wish, you can go with Jason to America. He has offered to help you find your family."

Zeddle's breath caught in his throat. His family—the thought of seeing them again made his heart ache with longing. But the thought of leaving Salim and traveling with the Americans scared him, even if Jason had been kind to him.

Zeddle's small frame quivered as Salim's warm, calloused fingers curled around him protectively. He peeked out from the cocoon of safety, his gaze meeting Salim's brown eyes, which held a depth of kindness that made the decision for him.

"Salim," Zeddle murmured, the words barely a whisper, "I want to stay with you."

A flicker of relief passed over Salim's features, softening the lines of worry that had etched themselves there. "You are sure, my little friend?" Salim asked, his voice a comforting rumble.

"Yes," Zeddle replied, with more conviction than he felt. "I can't... I can't go with them. Not right now."

"Then here is where you shall stay," Salim declared, the edges of his lips curling into a tender smile.

"Will you help me? Someday, when things are different... will you help me find my family in America?" Zeddle's voice trembled with hope, his large eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Zeddle," Salim said firmly, his tone threaded with unwavering resolve, "I promise you, if there is a chance to take you to America to search for your family, we will seize it together."

"Thank you," Zeddle whispered, his tiny body relaxing completely as he nestled into the curve of Salim's palm. Gratitude washed over him in waves, and he clung to Salim's thumb.

****

Once they arrived at their destination, they gathered in a corner of the dock away from prying eyes.

"Time to part ways, then," Jason said. He extended his hand, large and calloused, toward Salim.

Salim clasped it firmly, nodding. "Fate brought us together for a reason," he offered, his gaze steady. "May your journey be safe."

"And yours," Rachel added, stepping forward with a small, sincere smile that softened her otherwise stern features.

Eric and Nick exchanged nods with Salim, the unspoken understanding clear in their expressions. They had been adversaries, then allies, and now they were nothing more than travelers on separate paths.

As the group began to disperse, Zeddle watched from the safety of Salim's hold.

"Will we see them again?" Zeddle murmured, so soft it was almost lost to the sounds of the harbor.

"Perhaps," Salim answered, looking down at the tiny boy with a gentle smile. "But we have our own journey, my little friend. And I will be with you every step of the way."