Moon Water

Chapter 22

Tangier/Mohammedia

January 1985

“Good evening, Mademoiselle Dubet. I am happy to know you have arrived safely. My name is Osman, and I will meet you in the lobby at eight thirty. You will know me by my yellow babouches.”

“Did you check on that address for me?” Delphine asked.

“I know the address and it is correct. I think we best just show up and ring the bell.”

In the early morning, she woke to the sound of adhan, the morning call to prayer. Amplified through a P.A. system, a man’s melodious voice cried out in a slow chant and ended in a long mournful wail. It carried across the streets and courtyards from a mosque in the Habous Quartier, all the way to the balcony of the hotel. After a few weeks in Morocco, she’d grown accustomed to the sound and appreciated it. Marking the passage of time, the ritual reminded her of the church bells in Bordeaux. The soulful sound aroused deep emotions about her first home with Mamie and Papi.

She trusted Osman’s information, but something nagged at her. What if she had found the wrong person? Tension clawed at her neck and shoulders. She took extra time with her hair and dress, wanting to look her best.

In the lobby, she noticed a thin man who waited in the doorway. He wore an ankle-length jellaba made of tattered burlap. His oiled hair was carefully combed to the right side of his square head. She recognized it was Osman when she saw the yellow babouches on his feet which stood out against his plain caftan. She waved to him, wondering how he could drive in those pointy leather slippers. But that turned out to be the least of her worries when she saw the sad state of the old Toyota’s tires.

They drove off with the loud squeal of a loose fan belt. When the noise subsided, Osman told her that, by coincidence, he knew Dr. Laurent well. He claimed that the doctor had an excellent reputation. He had been recommended to Osman as an outstanding doctor who accepted anyone at his clinic whether they could pay or not. “When my mother had difficulty with shortness of breath, the doctor agreed to see her. We were thankful he was able to find the problem and fix it. In fact,” he said, “during that same time, his driver had left to manage a personal problem. The doctor, knowing I was a driver, offered me the temporary job.” Delphine liked what this generous characterization signaled about the man she hoped to meet.

Thirty minutes later, they rounded a steep bank and came upon a wide avenue of beautiful colonial seafront villas. Pink and orange bougainvillea grew along the tops of the breakwaters.

Look for more when the book is released…