Latakia Page 3

  Matt was already chewing on his first bite of pork chop, but said, “Mmm hmmm,” laced with a teasing suspicion. The waiter had been dishing up a little bit of an attitude along with the food and drinks since they sat down. Matt wasn’t drinking any alcohol at dinner because he had to be up at 4am to get to the airport for his flight, and he assumed this was part of the reason that the waiter wasn't paying much attention to them.

  But at the same time, Matt had started to wonder about stuff like this. Ever since Bret had mentioned that Polly had seen Brian out with his ex-boyfriend, Greg, Matt had been a little more sensitive to any little signs like this from Brian. But even if Brian had met up with Greg for drinks one night, that didn’t mean anything, did it? Brian and Greg had dated for quite a while; why couldn’t they be friends?

  But over the last week, his mind kept nagging at him about it, and he kept resolving to not be that way. He really didn’t like being suspicious or constantly watching for signs that Brian was cheating on him. He didn’t like being that kind of a person at all. He resolved once again to stop being that way.

  Besides, Brian had been nice enough to splurge and take him out to Bookbinder’s in Richmond for a nice going-away dinner.

  Through the rest of their dinner, Matt felt bad about having any suspicions about Brian. Brian absently glanced at his phone to check for any messages before putting it down next to his plate. He asked Matt, “Hey, you did remember to pack your passport and the visa for Syria, right?”

  Matt nodded. “Yeah, those were some of the first things I pulled together.”

  Brian quizzed him on a few other things Matt needed to remember to pack as the waiter swung by again to clear their plates off the table.

  Before the waiter came back to ask about dessert, Brian excused himself to run to the bathroom for a moment. Matt watched as Brian turned down the short hallway where the restrooms were and took notice that their waiter headed down the same hallway a moment later. Matt tried to decide if he should go to the bathroom as well, then felt bad for even thinking like that. Did he really expect that Brian was going to be getting a blowjob from this waiter in the men’s room? It was silly, of course. But before he could even think much more about it, Brian’s phone beeped and the screen flashed to indicate a text message had come in. Matt had never snooped on Brian’s phone and had no intention of starting now. But he couldn’t help but lean over and notice the screen announcing the arrival of the text message. He frowned to himself when he saw that the phone said there was a message from Greg.

  He felt a slight pang to realize that Brian, at the very least, was keeping in some kind of touch with Greg. When Matt had started dating Brian, Brian had gone on and on about how awful Greg was and how bad things had gotten between them. Matt tried to shake it off by telling himself that maybe it wasn’t even that Greg.

  When Brian got back to the table, he had a huge smile on his face.

  He said, “You’re going to have such a great time while you’re over there!” He paused for a moment, distracted while he read the text message that had come in on his phone, before adding, “Just remember me every once in a while, miserable and lonely until you get back!”

  Matt laughed and verbally poked at Brian, “Oh please! You’re not going to be miserable or lonely while I’m gone at all!” Brian had a few of his own friends that he liked to go out with, just like Matt went out with Bret and Jim without Brian quite frequently, especially since Brian really didn’t care for them a whole lot.

  Brian frowned though, and drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds. He didn’t seem amused by Matt’s comment.

  Matt wondered if he had said the wrong thing somehow.

  Brian said, “I wish you’d just say it.”

  “Say what?” asked Matt, confused.

  “That you don’t trust me.”

  Matt was now dumbfounded. That wasn’t what he meant by his comment at all. “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’ve been hinting at it all night long,” said Brian through a scowl.

  “No, Brian. We’ve both joked…”

  Brian cut him off, “And I know how easy it is for you to be suspicious, but it’s wearing me down, Matt.”

  Matt didn’t know what to say. Where the hell was all of this coming from all of a sudden? Had Brian really interpreted their joking around earlier this way? Brian had joked about being suspicious of Matt as well. None of this felt like it made any sense to Matt. It felt like it was coming out of the blue sky.

  Brian heaved a sigh and said, “Look, I’ve never been anything but totally true to you, but your insecurity about being with me is getting to be a lot to deal with. It wouldn’t be fair for me to not be honest with you about this, so I want to make sure you know how I feel. I’ve tried to ignore it, but you’re making it harder and harder for me to do that.”

  Matt sat there, his face flush with this sudden disclosure from Brian. It took him so off guard that he didn’t even know what to think. The last week or so, after Bret’s grilling at the softball practice, he had internally questioned if maybe Brian might be cheating, but he hadn’t said anything to Brian about it at all, even obliquely. He wasn’t about to accuse Brian or insinuate anything like that without being very sure of the truth.

  Matt started to protest, but Brian stopped him again. “Matt, you know what you mean to me. But I can’t handle this right now. Before this turns into an ugly fight right before you go off for a few weeks, we need to stop it.”

  Brian stood up and said, “I’m getting upset about all this and need to stop before I say something I regret.”

  Matt sat there in shock and complete confusion before he could pull himself together enough to say, “Brian, I’m not sure at all what I’ve done to make you think any of this, but…”

  “Matt, no. Please.” Brian started picking at his earlobe, which Matt knew all too well he did when he was upset. Brian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This is a terrible time and place to get into this, and you’ve got to be up really early. So baby, just go on home tonight and get ready for your trip. I need to cool off a little myself. Send me a note or call me as soon as you’ve made it safely to Latakia. I’ll be anxious to hear how your trip is going, and when you get back, maybe you’ll feel a little less insecure about us. In fact, a few weeks away will probably be a great thing to remind you of how much I mean to you. Ok?”

  Matt didn’t know what to say without potentially upsetting Brian any more. So he just said, “Ok. But you know how much I love you, Brian, right?”

  Brian walked over and stood next to him. He said, “Of course I do,” and kissed Matt on the top of his head. “Send me a note when you get there and have a good trip, baby!”

  Brian walked out of the restaurant. Matt sat, in his chair, completely motionless and staring vacantly for a long while. How could something like that have come completely out of nowhere? Was Matt giving off subtle vibes to Brian that he didn’t even realize, but that Brian was picking up on? He couldn’t remember doing or saying anything that could vaguely be construed to be what Brian was accusing him of.

  And then a small nagging thought popped into his head. And he hated himself for it, especially before he’d be going off for a few weeks. It almost felt like Brian was maybe picking a fight. Maybe he wanted to be mad at Matt and not go home with him that evening.

  God, how he hated having that thought creep up in his mind. And he really wanted Brian with him in bed, next to him, before he went away. He had really looked forward to that before being gone for two weeks.

  The waiter stopped back by and put the bill down on the table. And then Matt’s only thought was, Shit, now I’m the one paying for dinner!

  Outside the restaurant, as he walked to his car, Matt’s mind reviewed how he had behaved towards Brian at dinner. He looked up at the cloudy night sky of mid-March and couldn’t decide if he was an asshole, or a fool.

  Chapter 5 - Tishreen

  Matt finished typing a few notes
into his laptop from the morning session with the Syrian health department staff, and as he reviewed the last of what he had typed up, he finally started nibbling at the manaeesh he had gotten for his lunch. He had had the manaeesh, a small pizza made with cheese, onion and usually some minced meat, earlier in the week and found that he really liked them. He also had some of the polo, or lemonade with mint, which had become one of his favorite things since arriving in Syria.

  So far, everyone he had worked with had been really great and very appreciative of the fact that he had come to help them on the childhood immunization initiative. Several of them were usually delighted to accompany Matt to lunch to help explain the food to him so he felt comfortable with it, but after several days of this, Matt liked having the time to himself to catch up on his notes and send some emails. Plus, once he found out that a lot of the food in Syria was typical Mediterranean, he was much more at ease with it. Things like hummus, falafel, stuffed grape leaves, and tabbouleh were all widespread in Syria, and were familiar to Matt from Mediterranean restaurants back in Richmond. But he had ventured out and found some of the other dishes that were new to him, but that he liked very much, like the manaeesh and polo and others as well.

  Doctors Without Borders had made an interpreter available to Matt outside of his time at the university if he needed one to get around, but after the first three days, Matt decided he really didn’t even need that. In the central city, particularly the places frequented by tourists like himself, there was always someone around that spoke at least passable English and was willing to help out.

  Matt finished sending his emails out to Brian, Bret and Jim and closed down the lid on his laptop. He had been sending them an email or two every day telling them about what he was doing and what Syria was like. Bret and Jim were fascinated and replied to every one, asking all kinds of questions about Syria and Latakia. Brian focused more on either teasing Matt about finding a rich Syrian prince that would steal him away, or telling him that he missed him and couldn’t wait for him to get back to Richmond. The email that he was sending today told about his dinner the night before at a nice restaurant called The View. The View was in the Southern Corniche part of the city, but right on a point overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The meal was excellent, and so was the view of the water, but it was a little expensive. That dinner and his trip late one afternoon up to the Cote d’Azur north of town had pretty much blown his personal sightseeing budget for the trip. He also sent a note to his volunteer coordinator back in the States letting her know how everything was going now that he was halfway through his stay.

  He glanced at the stickers that had accumulated on the lid of his laptop over the last two years – a Shockoe Sliders sticker, several from bands and video games he liked, even a small rainbow flag sticker and one with the familiar yellow equal sign of the Human Rights Campaign. Matt decided he really needed to try and find a Syrian sticker of some kind to add to his collection, maybe one from Tishreen University. He put his laptop away when done with his notes and emails, and turned back to finish his manaeesh.

  As he ate, he started thinking about Brian again. He had only called Brian one time since getting to Latakia because the phone calls were expensive, and that was right when he arrived to let him know he had made it there safely. He was worried about the call, of course, afraid that Brian was still going to be mad about what had happened at their dinner right before he left, and he hated that he had left while there was still the tension between them.

  Fortunately, Brian seemed to have forgotten all about it when he talked to him. In one way, Matt was very relieved that he wasn’t dwelling on it, but at the same time, the whole thing was puzzling. If Brian was truly upset and felt like he didn’t trust him and it was starting to impact their relationship, why did it just seem to evaporate like that? Plus, he was still feeling a little guilty about thinking that maybe Brian was just inventing a fight that evening.

  He didn’t want to screw up what he had with Brian. It had been hard to find someone that he fit with since moving to Richmond. Bret and Jim kept trying to say it was simply that he was a little shy and needed to be just a little more confident. Before Brian, Matt had gone on dates, but the guys never felt right, or only wanted sex, or only wanted to do drugs, or the hundred other things people did that made them a bad match. Brian, though, had a stable job, was very attractive to Matt, and wanted to be a part of Matt’s life. Matt was lucky to have him.

  He decided to go ahead and give Brian another call to check in with him and let him know how things were going and to see how Brian was doing. He wanted Brian to know that he really cared.

  He dialed Brian’s number and it finally started ringing. On about the third ring, though, Matt realized that it would be early, before 6am, in Richmond. But since it had already rang several times, he decided to let it go.

  A moment later, Brian answered with a groggy “hello.”

  Matt said cheerfully, “Hey Brian! It’s me, Matt.”

  As he said it, though, he could have sworn he heard someone else in the background mumbling something. It was a guy, but it definitely wasn’t Brian’s voice.

  Matt continued, “I know it’s early, but I thought I’d give you a quick call before you started getting ready for work.”

  Matt very much wanted to ask Brian if someone was with him, but absolutely did not want to instigate a repeat of the fight they had the night before he left for Syria. Instead, Matt asked, “What was that? Is the TV on?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, umm, the TV’s on,” replied Brian, sounding fully awake at this point. Matt could hear Brian getting out of bed and walking down his hallway.

  Brian asked brightly, “How’s the trip? You having a good time? Do you miss me?”

  Matt smiled and said, “Yeah, I do. I miss you a lot! But I’m having a great time. The guys here I’m working with have been really good to me and I’ve gotten to do some really neat things. I may try and copy over some of the photos I took earlier in the week to my laptop and send those to you in an email, the ones when I went to the Cote d’Azur north of here.”

  “That’d be great! I’ve really liked getting the emails from you so I can hear about the trip as it happens. Are you doing something exciting later today?” asked Brian.

  “I’ve blown the money I felt comfortable spending doing my own sightseeing, so it’ll be less exciting stuff the rest of the trip. Tonight, the guys here at Tishreen recommended a good outdoor café in town that a lot of expats go to, especially Americans and people from the British consulate here in Latakia. I’ll probably go check it out.”

  “So you really miss me, baby? Do you miss having my arms around you at night?” asked Brian.

  Matt grinned warmly to himself. “Yeah, I really do. It’s been cool being over here, but it’ll be good to come home, too.”

  Brian said, “That’s good! That’s what I want to hear!”

  “Ok, I’d better go since these calls are so expensive. I love you, Brian!”

  Brian closed with, “You’ll be home before you know it, baby! Keep sending the emails!” He yawned and hung up.

  As soon as he hung up, Matt felt like it had to have merely been his imagination making him think he heard another guy’s voice at Brian’s place. It felt so good to hear Brian’s voice, though.

  Matt scratched at his goatee and got amused when he remembered Brian’s comment about missing his arms around him at night. When they slept together, Brian usually got hot and went to the other side of the bed from Matt. Actually having contact with Brian while sleeping was a rare treat.

  ~~~~~

  That evening, Matt sat at the café and finished up his coffee. The café was a nice place, but had far fewer patrons than he was hoping for. He had expected it to have more people there based on the recommendation from his friends at the university, but he had gotten there later than he intended. The slim crowd seemed to have started out with a few Americans and British customers, b
ut they had left pretty early and all that was left was a few Syrian and other Middle Eastern customers, mostly men at this time of night. Some were wearing more westernized clothes including jeans and collared shirts, but the rest were wearing the more traditional didashahs and kuffiyahs. He was a little disappointed that his plans to maybe find some compatriots from the US or Britain to chat with didn’t pan out, so he instead spent his time having a late dinner and copying over the photographs from his camera’s memory card to his laptop.

  He paid his bill and left to find a taxi back to his hotel near the university. The waiter had told him there were usually some taxis waiting a block over to the east of the café, so he set off in that direction and enjoyed the cool air of the late evening.

  Matt made his way to where the waiter had indicated, hoping he wasn’t getting the directions wrong. The roads in much of Latakia were very old, and were almost always narrow and twisty, forming a confusing maze of buildings, roads, and alleys. Just when he thought he had gotten lost, he looked through an alleyway and finally saw some taxis one street over.

  He started down the alley to get to where the taxis were waiting, but a van came up behind him and he had to push to the side to get out of the way so it could pass. But just as the van passed him and got in front of him, it stopped. And before Matt had any time to react at all, two guys jumped out of the van just a few feet away and turned towards him. That’s when Matt saw that one of them had a gun in his hand. The blood ran out of his body and he started to back away.

  But just as soon as he turned around to try and run back the way he had come, he was violently hit in the back of the head with the gun and a black sack was pulled over his head. He was seeing stars and felt dizzy and was having trouble standing upright. Instantly, the assailant pulled a rope in the neck of the sack, tightening it around his throat. Matt felt totally disoriented, and had trouble concentrating enough to know he needed to resist, but he started to fight and he started to yell as best he could.