Anubis
Anubis copyright c. 2015 T.A. Chase
Part Thirteen-
Jamil finished getting ready the next morning, excitement running through him at the thought of seeing Ahmed later that day. Silly boy! He’s not going to be interested in a guy who spends most of his time in the dirt.
Not that Jamil was ashamed of what he did for a living, but from what he’d seen of Ahmed, he doubted the man did anything that got his hands messy. The way Ahmed looked in his suit yesterday popped into Jamil’s head.
Broad shouldered and narrow hipped, Ahmed’s slick body seemed to speak of a man who wasn’t afraid of hard work. Maybe at one point, Ahmed had done some heavy lifting. Hell, if he came from one of the nomadic tribes, he’d done a lot of walking and herding of camels.
I’m letting my own bias cloud my judgment about what kind of man Ahmed is. He might not care if he gets his clothes and hands muddy. I only have experience with men who were totally into the academic research sitting in a lab world. Those would never dream of coming out to a dig site with me.
Shaking his head, Jamil grabbed his keys and wallet before heading out to his truck. He had just settled behind the steering wheel when his phone rang. Yanking it out of his pocket, he checked the screen, but he didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Mr. Ahlid, this is Ahmed Al Hazzan.”
Jamil’s heart skipped a beat, but he managed to keep his voice calm. “Hello, Mr. Al Hazzan. What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could catch a ride out to the site with you? I thought it might be educational for me to watch and help you…and your assistants.” Ahmed cleared his throat. “I also might have an idea of where else we might look for artifacts…if you have permission to be there.”
“Sure. You can ride with me. What hotel are you staying at? I can pick you up.” The thought of riding all the way to Petra with Ahmed in close proximity with him caused his cock to get hard.
Ahmed chuckled. “Actually I’m standing on the sidewalk across from your place.”
Jamil looked up then glanced around. He spotted Ahmed standing right where he said he was. The man waved and Jamil laughed. “Come on over.”
Ahmed jogged across the street before opening the passenger door. He tossed his duffle bag into the backseat and climbed in. “Thank you.”
After setting his phone in the center console, Jamil shrugged. “You’re welcome. It doesn’t make sense for both of us to drive out there.”
“True.” Ahmed grimaced. “Though the truth is I don’t like driving. Never really got the hang of it.”
Eyeing him, Jamil wasn’t sure he was joking or telling the truth. He guessed it sounded plausible, considering where Ahmed grew up. There wasn’t a lot of use for vehicles in the desert. Certainly not in the areas where the nomads roamed.
“I don’t mind playing chauffeur, Mr. Al Hazzan.” He turned the engine over and put the truck in gear.
“Please, call me Ahmed. I have a feeling we’ll be working closely together for the foreseeable future.” Ahmed rubbed his hands on his jeans. “It’s been years since I worked a site, so I hope you won’t mind me asking stupid questions.”
Jamil pursed his lips then nodded. “As long as you call me Jamil, and I don’t have a problem with stupid questions as long as you’re truly interested.”
Ahmed touched Jamil’s arm then retreated quickly. “I’m very interested in what you do, Jamil. It’s not just this site, though Petra has always fascinated me. It might be because I’ve lived close to it for half my life and heard so many legends that I feel like I’ve spent time there when it was inhabited.”
“I’ve had digs where I’ve felt like that. Almost like you’re coming home and you didn’t even know you’d left.” He pulled out of his driveway then headed out.
“Our ancestors come from around the world. Genes mingling until there are distant memories stored in our primitive brain. Then we arrive somewhere and a memory is triggered.” Ahmed stared out the windshield, his gaze distant as though he were thinking about such a place.
Jamil agreed. “That actually makes sense. For you especially because you’re from around here.”
Grunting softly, Ahmed acknowledged Jamil, but didn’t say anything for a while. It was as though he was caught up in memories of his own. Finally when they were closer to Petra, Ahmed twisted in his seat to look at Jamil.
“Were you able to get a hold of the gentleman I suggested you talk to?”
There was a tone in Ahmed’s voice that made Jamil think he didn’t really want Jamil to get a hold of the guy.
“I sent him an email last night and he responded this morning. He said he could be here by tomorrow. He was already traveling to Israel for another job, so he could take a few days to help us.” Jamil almost bounced in his seat. It was important to get a second translation on the canopic jars. Not that he didn’t believe Ahmed’s, but other museums and authorities would want reassurance that those names were what were on the jars.
“Wonderful. I haven’t talked to Thomas in a few months. It’ll be great to catch up.”
Jamil snorted. “Something’s telling me you and Thomas aren’t close friends.”
Ahmed rolled his eyes. “We’ve had our differences over the years, but in the end, if he needed me, I’d be there for him.”
“It’s nice to have friends you can count on like that.” Jamil sighed. “My parents are gone now, and I was an only child. They adopted me when I was five.”
“Which explains the dichotomy of the name and your looks,” Ahmed commented.
“Right.” He’d learned to deal with the strange looks he’d get from people.
2 Responses “Anubis”
Thanks from me too.
Thanks, T.A. This was great! Have a nice weekend. 🙂