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    Mikiesboy
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Sold Into Freedom - 16. Chapter 16

The bird has flown.

It was a four-hour flight to Istanbul from London. Luckily, this flight was non-stop.

Matthew settled into his seat and thought about his departure. When he left the island, he hugged Maeve for a long minute. Her voice quivered when she said he was to keep in touch and let her know how things were going.

I knew she’d be upset. She’s a nice woman. He stared down at the English-Turkish dictionary he held. Andrew surprised me the most. He came with me to London and waited while the Embassy got me documents. He helped me with the bank and money, then returned with me again and saw me onto the plane. He hugged me so hard. He told me to stay in touch like he's a friend.

He watched absently as the flight crew gave the safety instructions. Daydreaming rather than listening, he wondered again if he was doing the right thing.

A stewardess stopped and leaned down. "We’ll be leaving the gate soon. Would you put your seatbelt on, please? I think you missed the notice up there." She pointed to the Fasten Seatbelt sign.

Matthew looked up. "Oh, yeah. Sure." He tucked the book between his thighs. "I did miss it. Sorry. Thanks for letting me know." He reached beside him on either side, put the belt on, and snugged it across his hips.

She smiled. "No problem. I appreciate your cooperation." The woman tapped the back of the seat and moved up the aisle.

Picking up his book, he flipped through it. Trying to form words in the new language caused him to wonder, not for the first time, if this trip was a foolish errand. Merhaba, hello. Teşekkür ederim; thank you.

Ahmet had explained where his family’s business was. He’d scribbled the few details on a scrap of paper, including a street name. I’ll tell people I'm looking for a friend from University.

The plane had started its journey to the runway. Matthew peered out the little window. His heart pounded; this was his first flight by air anywhere. The jet shuddered as it turned off the taxiway. As the engines revved, Matthew held the arms of the seat in an ironclad grip.

Then, with a thunderous roar, the giant craft was off. It raced down the runway and slowly left the bonds of earth. It's a miracle of invention. It’s amazing. Matthew watched as the ground was left behind.

The captain then greeted them and told them the time of their arrival in Istanbul.

Matt stayed awake long enough to eat a salad and a warm panini sandwich, then wrote a little in his journal.

I’m nervous about finding Ahmet. We were close on the ship. But will he feel the same now? Will he be happy to see me? And the all-important question is: If he doesn't want me, what then? Go home? Is that even possible? Mom? She was happy to hear from me, but I don’t think she’d want me back in the house. I need to make a life for myself somehow. Job? What kind of job? What can I do?

Matt put down his pencil and gazed at the steward, who was asking if he'd like more coffee. Huh! Mattie? Do you think you can do his job? Flying off to exotic locales?

Matthew looked up at the steward. "Thanks, but no, I’m okay."

"Very good, sir." The young man moved up to the next passenger. He smiled and leaned close to be heard.

Matthew watched him. Maybe. It could be fun. There was lots of travel anyway. What am I saying? I’m going to be with Ahmet. His self-talk stopped, smothered by waves of doubt.

When he finished the notebook, he stuffed it inside his backpack and placed it on the floor between his feet. Matthew was desperate to escape his thoughts, so he pushed the seat back and closed his eyes.

The steward woke him as they prepared the cabin for landing in Istanbul. "Please put the seat upright and tighten your seatbelt, sir. Thank you."

Matthew smiled and complied with the requests. He glanced out of the window. The skies looked the same over Istanbul as they had over London in previous days. Today, they were blue with white clouds.

As the plane descended, the nagging doubts built as they neared the ground. What am I doing? Matt gripped the armrests and closed his eyes. What am I doing? I must be crazy. What am I doing here? I don’t know this place. I don’t even know if Ahmet is here.

He left the plane while trying to summon his confidence. Then, after finding his single suitcase, Matt hefted it and waited in the queue for his turn with the customs officer. His nervous stomach threatened to reject its contents until he was called forward.

"Reason for visiting Turkey, sir?" The uniformed man asked in heavily accented English.

"I’m here to see a friend."

The man stared.

Does he want more information? "We met in school."

Stay calm. He cannot hear or see your heart pounding. Matthew gazed back.

Dropping his eyes, the officer flipped through the passport he held. "This was issued by the embassy in the U.K. Why is that?"

"I lost my passport while I was visiting a friend in Scotland. So, I had to get it replaced to continue my travels." Matthew pressed his damp palms onto his hips.

Pursing his lips, the official continued to look at the document he held. "Where in Scotland?" He looked again at Matthew.

"A small island in the Outer Hebrides called Windy Island."

"Thank you, sir." Satisfied, the customs officer picked up his stamp. He tapped the ink pad and pressed it onto the open passport page. "Enjoy your stay." The man held out the now-closed booklet.

Mattie reached for it and smiled. "I will. Thank you."

After leaving the arrival gate, Matthew looked for the taxi rank. He walked by the line of waiting yellow cars. He opened the rear door of the first cab in line and climbed in. It was a Renaut Clio. He put his suitcase on the floor next to him.

"Hello. Um, can you take me to this place?" Matt showed the taxi driver the scrap, which held the name of Ahmet’s family bakery.

The driver took the well-folded piece of paper and stared at it momentarily. "Yes, this is the old city. Yes, I take you there."

"Great." Thank you, God, for allowing me to hire a driver who speaks English. "Thank you very much for your help."

"Do you have hotel?"

"Yes, the DoubleTree in Fatih. From what I could see on the map, the hotel is not too far from the bakery."

The taxi behind honked its horn.

"Susturmak!" Matthew's driver gestured out the window. Then, noticing Matt in the mirror, the driver said, "This means, how to say? Be quiet." The driver grinned and then turned the ignition key. The car’s engine started and purred. The grizzled driver nodded. "We go."

"Do you look after the car yourself?" Matt leaned forward. "The engine sounds in great shape."

After checking the mirrors, the car moved away from the curb. "No. The company looks after car."

There was silence in the vehicle, and Matt sank back into his seat. Then, Yusuf started to talk about the city and the locations they passed. "The drive to Fathid is about forty five minutes."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Where do you come from?" The driver glanced at Matt through the rearview mirror.

"The U.S., but I’ve been travelling. I just left Scotland."

"Oh, and why do you choose to visit here?"

"I met someone from here at university. After school, I decided to travel, and I just thought I'd come and see this place. He always spoke fondly of his home country, so I wanted to visit and meet his family." If he’s here, Matt’s thoughts were scattered as he thought again about the folly of this trip. He took a calming breath. Even if he's not here, I can visit this place and move on.

"Turkey has some beautiful sights." Yusuf was silent momentarily as he checked traffic.

Matt enjoyed the scenery during the long drive, and Yusuf happily answered questions. Finally, he pulled off the highway and drove along local streets. After a few minutes, he stopped. "There is the bakery you seek."

Matt looked out the window. He couldn't read the sign, but baked goods were in the window. Smiling, he turned to the driver. "Thank you. Is my hotel very far?"

The driver shook his head. “No, it is close.”

"Thanks. I can walk back here later." He sat back. "Oh, um, it's safe to walk here, right?"

Yusuf’s dark eyes met Matt's in the rearview mirror. "Yes, it's safe here. Doing the wrong things comes with very large penalties."

Was that a threat or a warning? Nodding, Matt sat back in the worn seat. It doesn't matter.

After making a couple of turns, the cab stopped again. Matt glanced out the window. This time, the signage was in several languages, including English. "The DoubleTree Hotel."

The gray-haired driver reached down and then handed a card to Matthew. "In the before years, I was a guide for tourists. It’s not so much needed now. If you would like to see more, we can arrange a tour. I sometimes privately offer."

What a great idea. Matt smiled broadly. "You know, I’d really like that. Can we do that? I need to see my friend tomorrow. But after?"

"Yes, please call me to arrange."

I'd love to spend a few days with this man and learn about his country. "I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what my plans are after I see my friend."

"They speak English in the hotel, so you should not have any problems."

Matthew opened the door and put his right foot out. "Thank you for everything. I appreciate your help. I’ll call you tomorrow night." Matthew got out of the car fully. Bending down, he pulled out his suitcase. "Thanks again."

The driver nodded. "Thank you, Matthew. If you need a driver, please call me."

Matthew agreed and closed the car door. As the taxi pulled away, Matt walked into the hotel.

Outside, it was hot, but inside the hotel, it was cool. The young woman at the front desk welcomed Matthew in Turkish.

Matt smiled and said, "I’m so sorry, I don’t speak Turkish."

"I understand. How may I help you?" She smiled at him.

"I have a reservation." Matthew returned the smile. "Matthew Foster."

"Thank you. One moment, please, Mr. Foster," she typed on her computer. "Yes, we have your reservation. Would you fill out this form, please?" She handed him a card.

Matthew stared down at the paper. It asked for his home address. Shit. Um, I’ll use Andrew's. That's what’s in my bank account. He filled in the card and handed it back with the pen.

"Thank you, Mr. Foster. May I please see your credit card?" The woman read over the information on the card. "Oh, you’re from Scotland?"

"No. I live there, but I’m not from there." Matthew retrieved the card from his wallet, grateful that Andy had gotten him one on a rush basis. I guess being a well-known author has its perks. He handed her the card. He read the woman’s name tag and said, "Selva."

Selva checked the card and then returned it. "Thank you. Sorry about all my questions. I shouldn’t be so curious. I just enjoy finding out where people are from. Forgive me."

Matt grinned. "Oh, there’s nothing to forgive. I’d be curious too, I think."

Selva returned the new guest’s smile. "I’ll just get you the key. Would you like someone to take you up?"

"No, I’ll be fine. Thank you."

"Very good, here’s the key. If you would take the elevator up to the third floor. Go to the left and number three-zero-six is in the middle of the hall."

Matthew accepted the key card. "Thank you."

"Oh, Mr. Foster, would you care for something to eat? Our kitchen will close soon, but I can send something up if you don’t mind something simple."

Mattie picked up the keys. "You know, I’d really appreciate a bit of something to eat. I’m not fussy and I like just about everything."

"Of course. I’ll call them now and ask them to send you a plate and some fruit. Would you like something with soda to drink or juice?"

"Juice is fine, thank you."

"Very good. Please go up and we’ll bring the food up for you, Mr. Foster."

Matthew walked to the elevator and pressed the up button. "Thanks again. Have a good evening."

Matt stared at the key card in his hand. He got off the elevator and followed the signs. He entered his room, closed the door, and looked around. This is nice. A breeze lifted the pale yellow sheers in front of the screened windows. It's nice and clean. I'm set for the night with a kettle, a little fridge, and a TV.

Matt set his suitcase on the bed and went to the bank of windows. It was just getting dark, and he was beginning to feel tired. Jet lag, I guess. I'll try to make it to nine-thirty and then crash.

A knock interrupted Matt’s thought. Food! Great. Stepping back inside, he answered the door.

A young man stood there holding a tray. "Some food for you, sir. It's called Fasulye Piyaz, a kind of Turkish salad."

Matthew reached for the tray. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"I can come back in an hour for the dishes."

"Please don’t worry. You can get them in the morning." Matthew smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Foster. Have a nice evening. I hope you enjoy the food."

"I will. Thanks. Good night." Matthew closed the door once the server had stepped back.

He put the tray on the table. Though his mouth watered and his belly groaned, he decided to shower and get comfortable before eating.

Once clean and in a pair of boxers, Matthew sat down to the bright and fresh-looking bean salad with vegetables, olives, and boiled egg in sumac dressing. He devoured it all with gusto and appreciation. This was followed by dried apricots stuffed with walnuts.

That was delicious. I bet Andrew would have liked it. Maeve may have as well, but I'm not sure how adventurous she is. Matt stacked the dishes neatly on the tray and covered them with the napkin. That bed looks comfortable, and I'm tired. I'll brush my teeth and climb in.

A knock on the door woke Matthew. He groaned and called out, "Just a moment. I’ll be right there." He sat up and noted the sun shining beyond the yellow sheers. "Coming."

He pulled on a pair of grey sweats and a hoodie, then went to the door.

Another young man stood there. He smiled. "Good morning, sir."

Matthew returned the greeting with a grin.

"I’m sorry. It’s nine, and I was asked to pick up the dishes from last night."

"Sure, " Matthew said, holding the door. "I'll get the tray for you." Leaving the lad, he did just that.

"Here you go. Thank you again for bringing it up. The food was delicious." Matthew also handed the young man a tip. "This is for you. For last night and this morning."

"Thank you, sir." The server accepted the tray and tip and said, "We are glad you enjoyed it. Thank you, Mr. Foster. We serve breakfast if you would like some in the restaurant downstairs."

"You know that sounds great. I’ll get dressed and come down. I could use a cup of coffee."

"Thank you." The young man bowed slightly and turned away with the tray.

After being seated, Matthew chose sweet çay instead of coffee. For breakfast decided on the Turkish option, and he was served a dish of olives both black and green, sliced cucumber, a selection of sausage and pastirma, a cured meat, eggs, fresh cheese, tomato, bazlama, a soft white bread, honey, jam and butter.

The waitress smiled as she put down the plate of fruit. "Is different from your usual breakfast?"

"Yes, but it looks wonderful. Oh, the food you sent to me last night was delicious. I’m really enjoying it and well, everything."

"I’m so glad." The young woman smiled again at her guest. "I will leave you to enjoy your food in peace."

"Thank you." Matt picked up the glass of fragrant tea and sipped. He watched other guests eating. Is there a particular way to do this? But there wasn't anything other than cheese being eaten with bread, tomato, or other tidbits added when desired.

Matt ate slowly and drank another cup of the sweet çay. You’re just putting off going. Get a grip. It’s why you are here. Go and see him.

Once he'd paid for his meal, Matt went to his room and prepared to go out. He changed into a cotton button-up shirt and light cotton trousers.

In the bathroom, he brushed his teeth, added cologne, and combed his hair. After a minute of self-appraisal in the mirror, he ran his hands through his thick hair.

It looks better mussed up. Let’s go. Get a grip, Mattie.

He took his key, wallet and sunglasses and left the room.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Foster!" Selva called as he walked through the little lobby.

He lifted his hand to her and nodded. "You too. See you later on."

It wasn’t far to walk to the bakery.

Once there, he peered in the window. There were two women behind the counter.

I don’t see Ahmet. Shit. Doubt was creeping in. I can come back later. NO. No, go in and ask if he’s there.

Sucking in a fresh lungful of air, Matthew released it slowly and reached for the door handle. He pulled and was greeted by the odour of freshly baked bread and pastry.

The young woman he’d seen was now alone. She smiled at him and said, "Merhaba."

"Merhaba." Matthew smiled. "I’m sorry. My Turkish is poor."

The young woman blinked as she realized the man was speaking English. "Ah. English. Wait." She moved to the doorway behind the counter. "Ahmet. Ahmet."

Matthew knew the voice that answered. His heart threatened to stop beating.

And then he was there. Ahmet. His lover, his friend. Matthew stared.

Ahmet stopped. His mouth opened and closed before he found his voice. "Matt? Matthew, what are you doing here?"

The woman was speaking.

Matthew watched them together. She looked worried and a little afraid. He was trying to calm her down and reassure her.

"I’m sorry. Matthew, this is a surprise." Ahmet turned to the woman and drew her closer. "This is my wife, Defne."

Matthew’s heart stopped briefly. You knew. You knew nothing could come of this, Mattie. Idiot. Jerk. "Merhaba, Defne. I’m Matthew."

After her stuttered greeting, Ahmet spoke to his wife again. She left quietly, going into the back of the store.

"She’s afraid. I told her we’re friends from university." Ahmet reached out and touched Matthew’s arm. "Why are you here?"

"I just needed to see you again. Things … I … I don’t really know."

"Come through into the back. We live upstairs and we can have some tea and talk a little bit. Defne will watch the front." Ahmet guided his friend around the counter and into the rear of the bakery.

Once upstairs, Defne placed tea and sugar cubes beside a plate with various pastries on the little table.

Ahmet smiled at her. "Teşekkür ederim, thank you." He kissed her cheek gently, and she smiled and left the men alone.

"Sit down, Mattie." Ahmet poured çay and offered sugar.

"Thanks."

Ahmet poured for himself and sat. He took several sips before he spoke. "I’m glad you’re all right. That you’re free. I have wondered often."

"I am. It’s a long story but yeah, I’m doing okay." Matthew gazed around him. "You are too. You’re okay."

The baker smiled. "Yes. It is not what I would have chosen. But she, Defne, she is a good woman. Our life is pleasant enough. We have our first child coming."

Baby? Matt gazed at his friend. The last tendrils of any hope he’d had melted away. "I’m glad things are good for you. That you’re happy."

The two sat in silence for several minutes. Things they could never have or even say hung in the air between them.

"Matthew, you know I love you. But we cannot be that here. Not easily, anyway. Here, with Defne I am safe, and children will help. I love her in my way. But she isn’t stupid, and I think she knows." Ahmet drank tea and nibbled on a flaky pastry. "She would not say it, but I think she does. And she stays with me anyway, and I have managed to make a new life. She and the baby deserve all I can give them."

Matt's eyes filled with tears. "You'll be okay—all of you. I didn’t think we’d run off together or anything like that. I just needed to see you. I love you too."

The pair rose and embraced. They clung to each other, knowing their time was ending and new lives had to be accepted. The past had to be left behind.

Matt wiped his eyes and stepped back.

Ahmet released Matthew’s hand. "Will you write sometimes? Let me know how you are?"

"Yes, if you think it’s okay."

Ahmet nodded. "Yes, it’s all right. But you need to move on. You need to find someone and choose life, Matthew. You need to grab happiness and never let it go." Ahmet’s voice dropped to a whisper. "I am sorry it cannot be with me, my love."

Matthew could say nothing and just shook his head. "Once I find a place. I’ll let you know the address. I’ll write."

"Good. You can be honorary uncle to my children."

"I’d like that." Matthew smiled at his friend. "I’d like that a lot."

Ahmet briefly retook Matt's hand. "I'm glad you came. I'm glad we could talk."

"Me too."

"I'll walk you out." Ahmet led Matt back into the store. He spoke to Defne, who smiled.

Matt said, "Can you tell her, congratulations and that it was nice to meet the woman that is making my friend so happy?"

"Yes." Ahmet again spoke to Defne.

She smiled at Matt and unconsciously held her belly. "Güle güle"

Ahmet looked at Matt. "Good bye."

After a smile and a nod, Matthew slipped quickly out the door, knowing it was closed forever.

 

****

So, Matthew is out there alone. Things didn't go as he'd dreamed with Ahmet. What next? Let me know your thoughts in the comments. Thanks for reading, your likes, and comments!!!
Thanks to a great team; @kbois and @Reader1810. I couldn't have done it without you!  :)
Copyright © 2024 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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