Chapter 17

27.8K 1.4K 96
                                    

Chapter 17

(New York City's Skyline)

Jameel

There were no words in either Arabic or English language that could've described the amazing sights that I've witnessed since we left Kamal's family home yesterday morning. In my mind I've always understood that the El-Sayed's are a very prominent and wealthy family here in the kingdom, but I've never given it much thought about it other than how fortunate I am that this they have taken me in and made me feel like I was a beloved member of their family. Their familial home alone would attest to their wealth, but as the convoy of luxury cars left the house and headed for the airport, I was reminded that they were not the average Saudi family.

The gleaming black luxury vehicles convoyed smoothly towards Riyadh King Khalid International Airport. There was barely a wait time when the officials checked the papers of those traveling before the vehicles were waved through the security gates onto a private tarmac. Needless to say that my face was glued to the glass and not even Kamal's insistent urges for me to at least drink some warm tea or break my fast with one of his mother's falafel pastries could take me away from the amazing sights and sounds.

The shimmering buildings and skyscrapers we passed were mind boggling, even when I went shopping with the girls for my wardrobe. I didn't see much other than the marketplace and I had been too nervous about being in the open to take in my surroundings. It was another thing to see everything from the safety of the car. All the gleaming buildings and mixed with the street vendors, the men in their Thobes and the women and their flowing Abayas peppering the busy streets was a sight in itself. Arriving at the airport wasn't so interesting, not until the convoy pulled up right next to a gleaming private jet with El-Sayed Industries on the side written in both English letters and Arabic abjad.

My feet had a mind of their own as they shadowed Kamal's every step because my mind was so occupied with everything else. I watched as the people poured off the plane to handle the multitude of luggage packed in the car trunks. They all bowed their respect to Kamal's parents as they shuffled past and we were politely led up a set of stairs into the jet and I found myself gawking at the interior of the plane all over again. If someone had asked me to describe it, I would say it looked like someone's well appointed living room.

There huge flat screen televisions on the wall. Plush sofa and recliners, shiny center tables with live flower arrangements centered on top. Studying the beautiful arrangements, I wondered if the vases didn't threaten to slide off the tables when the plane moved. I walked over thoroughly intrigued by the idea. I tentatively glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching before I gingerly reached out, used my finger, and poked the brass vase. It stayed in place, so I assumed that it was secured to the table somehow. With my curiosity satisfied I moved on to the next marvel that caught my eye while everyone else was busy situating themselves.

Kamal made his way to my side to make sure that I was okay. He led me over to one of the double reclining chairs by the window. He seated me in the one closest to the glass portal so that I can see what was going on outside. The flight crew joined us a few minutes later and they went through a list of rules and advice before wishing us a safe journey. The three men and two women disappeared into another area of the plane leaving only the family in the sitting area as we waited for the pilot to ease the plane onto the runway.

The girls were busy chatting amongst themselves, if you didn't know them you wouldn't be able to tell mother from daughter or sister from sister. They were dressed in the their Abayas fully covered from head to toe. The men were dressed as I was, in slacks covered by Thobe with our Keffiyehs securely in place on our heads. I felt more comfortable dressed this way, but I was told once we are in the air we were going to change into more comfortable western wear for the remainder of the flight.

Love's Slave (manxman)Where stories live. Discover now