Rosmerta was pleased to find that she was to spend the night on the ground floor near the entrance to the house. She waited until everyone was asleep and slipped out. When the sun rose, she crept out from her hiding place behind the neighbor’s house and went looking for the camp.
Rosmerta quickly discovered that many of the roads that looked promising at first, abruptly ended after a couple turns. Finding her way around the labyrinth that was the Aleppo road system was going to be difficult.
Through trial and error, she found her way to the edge of town where the camp was set up. It was enormous, the biggest she had seen. A smell of rotting flesh radiated from the camp as she skirted around the edge. A frail woman with only a rag hanging over her shoulders shuffled up to Rosmerta on the opposite side of the fence that encircled the camp, mumbling, “Na he.”
“Excuse me?” Rosmerta asked.
“Na he,” the old women repeated, holding her left hand up to Rosmerta’s face and pointing to her palm with her index finger. “Na he.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Na he. Na he. Na he.”
“Not here?”
The woman nodded vigorously. “Na he.”
“Oh,” Rosmerta said, “the spots. You have red spots all over your body. Everywhere except the palms of your hands.”
The woman nodded and almost smiled. “Na he,” she agreed and then shuffled on.
Rosmerta felt sorry for the delirious woman. Nonetheless, she was glad to be rid of her. As she moved along the fence, she saw that many people had the red spots. Some were too weak to get up, some were vomiting. Everyone looked miserable. Rosmerta’s mood sank. Umar had said that this was not the usual camp for transient Armenians—it was a semi-permanent settlement. This was the end of the line. And now that she was here, Rosmerta believed it was true. With a Typhus epidemic rampaging through the camp, no further deportation orders were needed. Death was almost certain. Rosmerta had hoped that camp would prove to be a good place to wait for the end of the war and then a relocation to a new life, but the old lady was correct: “Not here.”
Rosmerta was leaving, when a skinny boy ran up to her, looking excited. His face was sunken into his skull, his eyes bulging out of hollowed sockets. His voice was thin yet somehow familiar.
“Rosmerta, it’s me, Boghos!”
She couldn’t believe it. Standing in front of her was none other than Boghos Elmassian. Yet, somehow, it wasn’t him. Unlike many of his campmates, Boghos seemed to be untouched by Typhus. Still, he was emaciated. There was little of him left. She reached over the fence to hug him. Her arms wrapped around him like he wasn’t there. She felt as if she was hugging herself.
“You look amazing, Rosmerta. So healthy, I mean. Where have you been?”
Rosmerta told Boghos about her experiences since the day of their separation at the river. She asked about his time. He said it was more of the same. Rosmerta didn’t fully believe him, but decided she knew enough. Boghos confirmed that staying in the camp voluntarily was not a good idea. They decided they would try to get him out.
“Stop!” yelled the guard when Rosmerta and Boghos approached the gate. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I am Kamelya Sengor, daughter of Rasim Sengor from Jerablus. I have come to collect my brother Boghos and take him home.”
“You’re from Jerablus? I heard there was an attack there?”
“Yes,” replied Rosmerta. “Our good friend Abdullah al-Fanari was killed along with his son Wasim.”
“It must have been horrifying.”
“It has been difficult. Now at least we have our brother returned to us. Now if you would please allow us to pass…”
“Yes, yes of course. My best to your family, young lady.”
Rosmerta breathed a sigh of relief as they walked away from the camp. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt the blood rush back into her head. It was only now that she realized how close she had been to passing out.
“Thanks for getting me out,” said Boghos. “What are you going to do? Are you going back to your Muslim family, or will you be joining me on the streets of Aleppo?”
“I thought you’d come back to Jerablus with me.”
“And how do you plan to explain me to your new family? Am I supposed to convert to Islam?” Boghos shook his head. “I don’t think so. That may be fine for you, but I’m a Christian and I plan to stay a Christian. And taking in a young girl who can become one of many women in a harem is one thing. What are they going to do with me?”
“It’s not like that. Rasim is kind to me. He loves me and takes good care of me.”
“From what you told me, it was Umar who was taking care of you. Will you be traveling back to Jerablus with him?”
Rosmerta felt the heat of embarrassment rise in her face. She shouldn’t have told him. What was she to do? She wasn’t going home with Umar, that was certain. The options seemed to be to marry Bekir or to escape. But to where? Staying on the street with Boghos didn’t seem like a reasonable option.
“Kamelya, there you are.”
Alarmed, Rosmerta nodded at Boghos. “You better go,” she whispered as Bekir approached.
“We’ve been looking for you. Who was that you were with?”
“Oh, no one. Some beggar from the camp.”
“They need to do a better job of keeping them contained so they don’t spread their diseases all over town.”
Rosmerta sulked all the way back to the house. How could she have been so stupid? She had hoped the camp would be her refuge. It wasn’t. Still, she could have found another escape. Why had she just stood there and let Bekir take her? Why hadn’t she run? And what was all that talk of going back to Jerablus? Rasim had committed Rosmerta to Bekir. If she showed up in Jerablus, he would send her back. So now she would be married to a total stranger in a strange house with a strange family. How could she let this happen? Then again, what else could she do?
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Bekir was sulking, too, and considering his soon to be bride. She was going to be a problem. He could see that already. He would have to keep a closer eye on her. It was not acceptable to have your wife wandering around town unescorted, even if it was your second wife. Yes, he must be careful. The first thing he would do was move her to an upstairs bedroom.