Page 66 of Mr. Charming

As the thought hit me, I stopped walking and glanced over my shoulder. At the far end of the market, I saw four men carrying weapons.

Are they after me? Maybe leaving the base on my own wasn’t such a good idea.

Panic set in, but I took a deep breath while thinking of my best option. I continued forward a few steps, trying to blend in with my covered head.

After a few steps, I noticed a strange old man in traditional garb staring up at me from the shade of his booth.

“Can I help you?” he asked in English, surprising me.

“Some men are following me.”

He motioned with his hand.

“Step inside out of the sun and have a seat.”

His shop – if you could call it that – seemed innocent enough. Shelves full of candles filled the walls. He sat cross-legged on a mat near the entrance.

Not all locals are bad guys, I reminded myself.

“Thank you. It’s so hot out today.”

“Scorching.”

I stepped into his booth and sat down on a wooden box across from him.

“What is a woman like you doing here by yourself?” he asked, studying my face.

“I’m a journalist working on a story,” I said. “About FOB Cobra, the base nearby.”

“I know it well,” he said, nodding his head. “It’s not safe for a Western woman like you to be alone here.”

“I know. I snuck out today to talk to locals without the military around. I thought I might get a better story.”

“My name is Abdul-lateef,” he said. “And you?”

“Jade Hart.”

He smiled, showing a mouth with a few missing teeth.

“What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He smiled.

“It’s good for people to hear the truth about Afghanistan. Are you an honest reporter?”

As his ancient eyes stared into mine, I shifted in my makeshift seat.

“I would say so.”

He nodded solemnly.

“Would you like water?”

“Sure.”

I watched as he leaned over and dipped a metal cup into a bucket of water next to him.