A Midsummer Weekend (The Extended Version)

7. Morning After

Kamran

This was one of those moments when my mind was racing at a million miles per minute, thinking of the worst case scenario, then reassuring myself that she would be ok, only to breakdown again as the feeling of helplessness swept over me, paralyzing me, numbing me. My limbs unable to move, despite my mind telling them to do something...anything, to save her. 

"Ready for lunch?", a voice called out in that dimly lit computer lab. 

Lunch? When the woman I loved was in an unknown location, halfway across the world?

Safdar's face with a worried look came into view, "Kamran, what happened? Are you ok?"

"Farah...she, umm...she is lost"

"What?", he looked at me with confusion. 

Something finally spurred in me as I jumped back on to my computer, "I have to go to Berlin"

Safdar was still staring at me with bewilderment, but I already had a plan in place, "The next flight leaves tonight, I have to be at the airport in 2 hours. Could you drop me?"

I was adding my credit card information on the website when I felt Safdar's hand on my shoulder. 

"You don't have a visa for Germany, do you?", he asked solemnly.

Damn it! 

How the hell am I supposed to help her now?

"Slow down and tell me what happened. How is she lost? Where was she when you last contacted her?"

I narrated what I knew, except that I told him she and her friend had food poisoning and had felt exhausted. Their being drunk was no one's business and the last thing I needed was for my roommate to judge Farah. But as I was recalling her last email, Sorry. We are not eating men. We are sitting in a Turkish cafe with lots of men, I remembered something. 

"Wait, that email I sent to her...", I pulled it up quickly. 

And sure enough there were at least three Turkish cafes listed there, "I am calling these, if I can't find her I'm calling the police"

Meanwhile, Safdar had another thought, "Doesn't Komal have a German visa? She just visited Berlin"

"Yes, yes...call her, tell her to book a flight to Berlin immediately", I sent him her number, and frantically started calling the Turkish cafes myself. 

Someone picked up from the first number after it rang a good 5-6 times, "Hello sir, Are there any young women there. They must have come in about an hour ago, and weren't feeling well..."

The thick accented voice immediately replied in broken English, "No...I no see any girls here. Thank you", and then he hung up. 

No one picked up from the second number. 

But at the third cafe a man with a crisp English accent picked up the phone, "Two young women? Yes, they fell asleep here. But they're gone now. They went home with someone"

"WHO TOOK THEM HOME?", my voice bellowed into my cell phone

"I...I don't know", the man seemed taken aback, "I am new here, I think one of the waiters did"

"What the fuck do you mean some waiter took them home?", I felt my heart sink, panic and anger swirled within me, clouding my judgement and cognition. 

"Get me the contact of that waiter now. He has my wife. I swear if something happens to her, I will kill you", I threatened the man on the other end of the phone, my voice rising to a crescendo, making my friend place a hand on my shoulder again.