Sold Into Freedom - 17. Chapter 17

After leaving the bakery, Matthew drifted down the street. Stopping to stare at the wares for sale, the vibrant displays were psychedelic walls of colour. As he continued his aimless wandering, sadness and loss threatened to overwhelm him.

"Just what did you think was going to happen?" He gazed into another store window, whispering to himself. He rested his head on the cool glass.

Passersby gave him odd looks, and the storekeeper came out. His wild gestures made it clear that he wanted Matthew to move on. "Gitmek, gitmek, go, go!"

"I’m sorry," Matthew said while placating the hostile man. "I’m going. Sorry."

Matthew strode away, dodging other pedestrians as he did. After walking for a short time, his mind calmed, and he began to accept that Ahmet was not a part of his future. He sat down at a small restaurant and ordered çay.

As he took his refreshment, he decided to visit the Grand Bazaar. He paid for his tea, then hailed a passing taxi and asked to be taken to the famous marketplace. He and the driver talked about the Bazaar and its history, which included its opening over five hundred years ago and its survival from earthquakes and fires.

The taxi stopped at one of the ornate gates, and Matthew paid. "Thanks for the information." He twisted around to look at the busy market. "It's hard to believe it's so old." He opened the door and got out. "Güle güle."

The driver waved and drove away.

I guess I'll buy something for Maeve, Andrew, and Mom, too. Matthew stood staring and taking in the sights and sounds. Why am I? I don't even know if I'll see them again.

He strolled through the myriad shops and stalls, stopped, and bought a few Iznik tiles and blue Nazar boncuğu good luck charms. These will ward off the evil eye! He also stopped to purchase some lokum—Turkish Delight. Once he'd completed his souvenir obligations, he began to feel anxious and hot, so he decided to return to the safety of the hotel.

The clerk at the front desk inquired after Matthew. "Did you have a pleasant afternoon?"

"Yes, thanks. I … I am just going to go upstairs and make arrangements for a tour tomorrow." Matthew headed to the elevator.

"Tour? May I ask which tour operator?"

"It was just the driver who brought me." Matthew walked to the front desk. "He offers private tours."

The young man smiled. "Oh. Yes. Many drivers do this. If you prefer other tours, please see the brochures over there." He indicated a revolving rack. "If you would like dinner tonight, it begins at 5:00 p.m."

"Great, thanks. I’ll be down. I’m just going to go and rest."

"Of course. Please let us know if you require anything."

"I will, thank you."

Matthew took the elevator and entered his room. Feeling tired and shaky, he gulped down a bottle of water from the compact fridge. After sitting at the small table, he opened his journal and began writing.

I will call to arrange a tour tomorrow. Also, what can't wait is some self-honesty. Is that a thing? Deep down, I knew Ahmet, and I could not be. But I still had hope. Stupid? Yes. His poor wife, Defne. What else could she be but afraid of some American barging in? Especially if she knows what Ahmet is or figures out what he is.

I wanted him back. I wanted him, and I can't have that. I know that.

I have to give up those dreams and do what he says- find my way, my own life. But how? How do I do that when I have nothing and no one? I'm afraid of the future. Can I do this?

I think I need to go home and see Mom. Will she be happy to see me? I hope so…does she even know I've been gone?

Matthew tucked his pen inside and closed the journal. He ran his hand over the cover and sighed. I need to just get on with it. With a nod and a deep breath, he moved to the telephone, picked up Yusuf's card, and dialed the number.

He listened while the phone rang and was answered.

"Good afternoon. May I speak with Yusuf, please?"

He listened for a moment. "Thank you."

Once Yusuf picked up the phone, they arranged to meet at the hotel cafe for breakfast. They would then leave on the tour Yusuf planned.

After making the arrangements, Matthew said farewell and decided to lie down for a nap. Out of need for some unwarranted self-punishment, he didn't bother with the air conditioner and lay under the ceiling fan. He did manage to get some sleep, however.

After an hour’s rest, he woke up and showered.

Hunger drove Matthew down to the dining room at about six o'clock. He ate the slow-cooked lamb with perfect basmati rice and a small salad.

Returning to his room, Matt had a restless night. He read, paced, and watched a soccer game on television before finally going to bed. Some hours later, unable to sleep, Matthew tried to draw and journal a little, with both activities ending in frustration.

Dressed in sweats, he opened his window and gazed upward. The stars glowed brightly. They are so old, and I'm nothing but a speck. Where am I supposed to be? I want to go home. I want to go home. Where is that? Where do I belong? Do I belong on Windy Island with Andy and Maeve? No, not there. There's nothing there for me. He sighed and returned to bed. I’ll go and see Mom. From there, I'll get myself sorted out. I'll be around Mom, and I'll make new friends. Not hang around those places and people that got me into trouble. Yeah, I'll just go home.

With the decision made, Matthew finally slept.

In the morning, he rose and dressed in casual clothes. Matthew then made his way downstairs. He felt anxious and out of sorts but was determined to continue his plans. No matter, his brain was screaming at him to run home.

Ignoring his feelings, he ordered çay and sipped the hot sweet tea until his tour guide for the day arrived.

"Good morning, Matthew." The older man smiled and bowed slightly.

"Marhaba, Yusuf. Please sit down."

"Thank you." The driver pulled out a chair and seated himself.

Matthew smiled. "I’m starving. Let’s order." He looked around for a staff member and waved at her.

"I am hungry." Yusuf nodded. "I have a full day planned. I have brought a rough schedule with me." He unfolded a piece of paper and laid it on the table, smoothing it with his large, wrinkled hands. "See what you think."

Matt examined the itinerary. "It’s a full day, you’re right. Do you think we can do all of this?"

"We will have to see. The places I wrote in blue are where we will go for certain. The others may be possible."

"That works. Let’s just have a good day. If we do the blue places comfortably, that'll be wonderful." Matt smiled happily at Yusuf.

A waitress arrived with a large platter. Then, balancing it skillfully on her left hand, she laid many small dishes and breads on the table.

Yusuf greeted her, and they spoke Farsi together briefly.

During this, Matthew eyed the food before him. This is a great way to start the day.

However, Maeve's breakfasts were good too. I wonder if she'd like this?

The young woman smiled. "Please enjoy your food. I will bring more çay."

Yusuf and Matthew began to eat—each eating only with their right hand, as was customary.

"You learn our ways quickly." Yusuf nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks." Matt smiled and said, "It’s nice, how polite people are here."

Yusuf's brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips. "It is, but this place is good and bad, like all places and people."

Matthew sat back in his seat. "I guess that’s true. We’re all human."

The two passed the next few moments in silence.

"I think you know of much evil, Matthew," Yusuf whispered as he picked up a small bowl containing two olives. "Please share one of these with me."

Matt’s eyes betrayed his pain as he said, "Thank you."

"I'm an old man. I've seen many things. You wonder how I can know this." Yusuf replaced the dish and ate the olive. "You're free of evil now but yet still lost."

Reaching out, Yusuf laid a hand on his companion’s arm. "You’re a young man. Alone here. I know of men like you. Here, for your kind, there is only a life of misery. You came here hoping to find a friend, but he is not and cannot be what you need. You need to find a safe place, Matthew."

"How …?" Matthew thought about his companion's words. Suddenly, he didn't want to be here. No longer wished to take the planned tour. "I think I need to go home."

"Don’t be afraid of life." Yusuf patted Matthew’s forearm. "What do you want to do?"

"I … I need to go home," Matthew gazed at the taxi driver. I’m sorry about ruining our plans, but would you take me to the airport?"

"If you are certain. Of course, I will. Take your time to get ready. I will have more of this wonderful tea."

"Thank you." Matthew pushed away from the table and went to the front desk.

"Foster, room three-zero-six. I’ve decided to leave earlier than planned. May I settle my bill, please?" Matthew handed over his credit card.

The agent replied, "Of course. Thank you. I’ll prepare your bill. Is there any problem?"

"No. I've just gotten some news and have to cut my stay short." Matthew smiled. "Thanks. I’m going to go and collect my things. I won’t be long."

About an hour later, Matthew sat in Yusuf's taxi in the airport's drop-off zone. Five of the ten minutes allowed had passed.

"This is all my Lira. It’s yours." Matthew handed over a wad of money.

"No, no. That’s too much." Yusuf handed back most of the stack.

"Take it. I was supposed to hire you for a tour, and now we're here instead. Please, honestly, I don't need it." Matthew pushed the funds back into the older man's hands. "Buy your wife something."

Yusuf stared at the cash. It would be a considerable amount for his family. "Thank you. I am grateful."

"I am, too. Thank you for all of your kind words. I hope I can return someday and see this beautiful country." Matt shook Yusuf’s hand. "Goodbye, my friend."

"Güle güle, Matthew. Thank you, and may Allah guide you."

Matthew got out of the cab and grabbed his bag. He leaned down once more and smiled at his friend. He lifted a hand in farewell as he walked into the airport.

He moved through crowds of happy people and families. Feeling alone and anxious, Matthew looked at the departure board. A flight was leaving in a couple of hours for New York.

I can rent a car there and drive to Mom's. Let's see if I can get a seat on that flight.

Matthew walked to the Turkish Airlines counter and joined the short line. The line moved slowly, and Matt knew it was growing behind him.

"Yes, sir? How may I help you?" The smartly coiffed young woman asked him as his turn finally arrived.

Matthew put his passport on the white counter. "I’m looking for a flight to New York. The earliest one you can get me on please."

The attendant stared momentarily at the anxious client and then turned to her computer. She tapped the keys. "There is a seat in Premium Economy on the next flight. It departs in about two hours."

"Perfect. Can I book that, please?"

"Yes, of course. May I see your passport and credit card?"

Matthew pushed the passport forward, opened his wallet and handed over the credit card. He hoped it would work. Andy will get another notification about this.

"The flight is nonstop to John F Kennedy Airport."

"Okay. Thanks. That's perfect." Matthew felt his insides tighten as the woman began to process the payment, frightened it wouldn’t go through and he’d be stuck.

Once the transaction was complete, Matthew breathed again. Thank God it worked.

The agent provided a receipt and printed a boarding pass. "If you go to your gate and check in, there is a lounge for Premium Economy customers. You may be more comfortable there."

"Thank you very much." Matthew smiled and picked up his passports and documents.

"You’re welcome. Have a nice flight, Mr. Foster."

⸛

As flights go, it was a nice one. They landed at JFK International within minutes of the scheduled arrival time.

Matthew mused as he grabbed his bag and stood with his fellow passengers waiting to deplane. Not crashing always means it was a good flight, they say.

Something else had also dawned on him as he flew over the earth to New York. Renting a car with no driver's license would be interesting. Impossible was the absolute truth.

I used to have a driver's license. I still thought I had it. How stupid. I could take a train or bus, then a cab, or call an Uber to Mom's place. It sounds less complicated.

It was much less complicated than public transport, which meant several trains and transfers. Matthew sat down and set up the app on the mobile phone Andrew had also provided. Adding his picture and the credit card details was easy.

After meeting his ride and a few minutes of small talk, the Uber driver decided to drive silently, and Matthew sat quietly with his thoughts.

Once I get settled at Mom’s, I’ll email Andrew and Maeve again. They're likely wondering how things are. Then I need to figure shit out. Life was easier back in Scotland. He thought about that for a few moments. Was it easier? Yes, Maeve and Andrew did everything for me. I can't go back there, not like I am. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

"We’re about five minutes away now."

Matthew opened his eyes. He’d slept through most of his Uber trip. "Thanks. Sorry, I guess I fell asleep."

The driver glanced at his passenger through the rearview mirror. "Long trip?"

"Yeah, back from Turkey, actually."

"That’s a long way. You over there on vacation or something?"

"No, I had some personal business with a friend there. We met at university. In Scotland." Why am I telling a perfect stranger all of this? Be quiet.

The driver frowned for a moment. "You’ve been to a lot of places."

Matthew's smile faded somewhat. "Yeah. I guess I have traveled a lot." Though I never saw much except out a porthole window.

"Nice if you can." The driver was silent as he turned onto Beach Avenue. He stopped in front of the house. "Here you are. Welcome back, and have a good day."

"Thanks. You too." Matthew opened the door, climbed out, and grabbed his bag, which he promptly dropped to the ground to complete the Uber trip payment on his phone. After a deep breath, Matt glanced at the steps, climbed them, and rang the doorbell without a backward glance.

Gwen Foster stared at the young man standing on the stoop when the door opened. It took her a moment to recognize who stood there.

"Mattie?"

"Yeah, Mom. It’s me." Fear gripped Matthew’s heart. "I came home to see you."

Her eyes widened, and she gasped, "Oh my God, Mattie! Come in, come in." Releasing the door, Gwen gripped her son’s hand and then threw her arms around him. "Thank God you’re here. You’re all right."

The pair embraced. At that moment, Matthew’s fear faded.

"I’m okay, Mom." Matthew stepped inside the house.

"Come in. Let’s sit down." Gwen Foster pushed the door closed. "Do you want some coffee or a soda?"

"Water would be great." Matthew set his bag down and followed his mother into the kitchen. He watched her retrieve a glass and pour water from a jug in the fridge.

Gwen handed the glass to her boy. "I’ve been so worried. When you didn’t come home, I called the police. After days, there was no trace of you. Not for a couple of years. I’d nearly given up hope, you know?"

Matthew sipped the liquid and put the glass down on the island counter. "Mom. I had no way to get in touch. I didn’t just walk away and leave you."

"I know. Let’s go sit down." Gwen led them out of the kitchen to the small, neat living room. "Sit please."

Tears were smudging the small amount of makeup she wore.

"Mom, don’t cry. I’m back, and I’m okay."

At this, Gwen's tears began in earnest. "When they called from the Embassy and said you were safe. I was so relieved. I wanted to fly over to see you, but they said it was better not to. I want you to know I wanted to come."

Matthew took his mother’s hand. "I know, they told me you’d said so. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wasn’t too good for a while, but I’m doing better."

Gwen gazed at her boy. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They said you'd been sold, like a … like a…." Words failed, and her tears began anew.

Matthew moved closer and put his arms around his mother. "Don’t, Mom. Please. It’s over now."

"Is it, Mattie?"

Matt closed his eyes and rested his head against his mom's. "Yeah. It is." You don’t need to know.

"You don’t just get over things like that."

"No, but I’m okay and sorting things out." Matthew stared out the window.

Gwen released her son and sat back. Her eyes were on his. "I can help you find a job. I'm working in one of the casinos. They are always looking for dealers and croupiers."

Here they were already.

It was like he'd never been gone. Get a job. Matthew didn't dare tell her about the money Andrew had staked him. No, it's best not to share that with her. He never understood where her grasping need for money came from. Dad had a good job and didn't leave her destitute when he passed away.

"Yeah. I’m gonna need one."

"You can stay here while you sort things out." Gwen smiled. "There’s lots of nice apartments around these days."

I just got here, and she wants me out. I cramp her style. "I'm sure I can find something. Then I can find a place of my own."

It was already becoming uncomfortable to be home. It hadn't been quite so bad when his father was alive. Dad was more into family life than his mom had been.

"You’re upset." Gwen got to her feet. "You must think I’m a terrible mother."

"Mom."

"Don’t lie, Mattie. I love you, but I know I am. Your Dad wanted kids, so we had you. I know I’m a crap mother. But I do love you in my own selfish way." Gwen walked back and forth in front of the large picture window.

"I know, Mom. It’ll be okay. I won’t be under your feet for long."

Gwen stopped and clutched at her hair. "I’m sorry. You can stay here. Of course, you can." She resumed her walk.

Matthew looked up at his anxious, pacing parent. "I can look after myself. I’ll do the laundry and cook. I know you need to work and stuff. I’m glad to be home. I’m glad to be with someone who cares about me, but you don’t need to take care of me."

The young man got to his feet and grabbed his mother. He held her tight. "Don't worry. I've grown up, mom. I'm clean and tidy. You don't need to look after me. I need somewhere to be. Letting me stay here with you is all I need right now."

As Matthew held his trembling mother, he closed his own eyes. His chest constricted, and he wondered if he’d done the right thing.

⸛

Across the ocean, Andrew also wondered. He paced and stared out the window at the glow of the departing sun.

The only messages from Matthew were the credit card notifications from the hotel and Turkish Airlines.

"I thought he’d have sent more information about what’s going on than he did. Is that asking too much?"

The writer stopped and blew out a frustrated huff. "That’s unfair. I mean the poor guy is trying to sort himself out. On his own. And be honest, Andrew. Try being honest. This didn’t go as you’d hoped, did it?"

It hadn't gone as hoped at all. This rescue was a romance, and the captive, now free, fell in love with his rescuer, and they lived happily ever after.

"I didn’t count on him having a mind of his own or a lover somewhere he desperately wanted back—or his own family! Andrew, you're an idiot!" He slammed his hands on the window ledge.

Maeve tapped on Andrew's office door, and then she opened it. "Dinner's ready."

Andrew turned away from the window. "Thanks. I’ll be right there."

"I heard you talking. Were you on the phone?" Maeve was hoping for news of Matthew.

"No, I wasn't. I was just … working on some conversation for a new story." He wondered if she'd believe that. Maybe, depending on how much she'd heard.

Maeve smiled. "Okay. Well, I’ll get started serving up then." The housekeeper’s face gave nothing away as she stepped back to close the door.

"Thanks. I’ll be right there." Andrew watched the wooden door close. His shoulders slumped. She misses him too.

After dinner, Andrew returned to his office. He had some work to do and emails to reply to. His heart leapt as he opened the email program and saw the new notification.

"Matthew!" The writer opened the message and read it. "Back in Atlantic City with his mom." Disappointment hit him like a runaway train. I’ve no right to feel this way. He owes me nothing. I'll send a reply.

Hi Matthew, You've been busy. I'm glad you met with Ahmet and his family, but I'm sorry it didn't work out as hoped. We miss you here, but I'm so happy you are at home with your family and sorting out your life. That will take some time.

It's good your mum has room, and you can stay with her while you get on your feet. If I can help with anything, please let me know. You've always got a room here on Windy Island with us, should you decide to visit.

Please feel free to write anytime. It’s good to hear from you.

Andy

Andrew pressed send. Ignoring the rest of his correspondence, he sat back in the chair and spun it around to face the large window. He stared out at the dark night with his interlaced fingers behind his head. After several moments, he sighed.