Algiers, 1973
Maura watched the blue-green waves of the Mediterranean lap against the piers of the quay. El-Badjha, this glistening white city was nothing like the barren wasteland littered with small huts that she had expected to find when she had first joined the program. Strolling up from the harbor, she could see how this portion of the city had earned the name, “little Europe.”
However, it was just as difficult for her to reconcile the explosions and blood stained rubble that had made the papers not quite ten years ago with this busy boulevard lined with its elegant, tall, white buildings. Her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment as she remembered her involuntary exclamation when the boat had first drawn in to port. “This can’t be it,” she had said with a mixture of horror and surprise, “it doesn’t look like Africa!”
A few of the volunteers had snickered, and she knew that they would be calling her the “not-Africa-girl” for months to come. Maura had wanted to say something, to protest that her only views of this far off country had been from books showing only the empty desert with a few camels clustered around a drying up oasis or the violent clippings in the newspapers which her parents had tried to hide from her. But she had held her tongue while her cheeks grew redder and redder and the hint of tears began to sting her eyes.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Maura started at the sudden voice in her ear, before smiling up at the tall black man at her side. “I forgot you were here,” she confessed guiltily.
His dark eyes twinkled as he replied, “I never would have guessed.”
Not wanting to confess the real reason she had been so distracted, Maura lied, “I was thinking about how if Mum knew how beautiful it was here, she would understand why I want to stay.”
“You are of age,” Ethan reminded her.
“I know.” Maura sighed with frustration. “But, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not like I need her blessing or anything, it’s just, and mind you I know how silly this sounds, I don’t want whatever good I feel like I’m doing here tainted by any bad blood back home.” She squinted up at him through the afternoon sun. “Do I sound crazy?”
“Nah, I had the same problem. Took me ages to win me Da around to the idea of me taking off to come halfway around the world. I think he was still pretty broken up about Mam’s death. He only consented when he realized Susie’d still be around for another year or two.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Everybody’s got shit like that in their lives. My troubles are nothing compared to some of the kids we are working with. This city needs peace more than I do. That’s why we are here.”
For a moment they both stood, looking down the hill to where the clear water gently rippled in the harbor. A small bird, indistinguishable from such a distance looped and dove, brushing its wingtips through the froth of each wave. At last even he disappeared over the horizon.
Maura sighed, quickly bringing herself back to the real world. Tucking a few windblown strands of chestnut hair behind her ear, she fished a few spare hairpins from her pocket. “I think I’m going to head up to the office and check for mail. Need anything?”
“Not really,” Ethan confessed. “But if you don’t mind my presence I might join you. Perhaps I’ll catch Josef up there, and corner him about helping with my transfiguration lesson.”
Maura laughed. “Good luck with that.” Josef, one of the program directors was, as the saying goes, busy as a bee. Not only did he care for the twenty-seven volunteers in the city, but he still found time to work on his pet project of starting a hospital like St. Mungo’s. The Algerian War for Independence had quickly proven the insufficiencies of the scattered Healers when faced with the mounting casualties.
Slowly, they sauntered through the hot afternoon air, leaving behind the wide orderly boulevards for the twisty and narrow streets of the Kasbah. Maura stopped in front of the door of an old rug shop, her nose twitching from the dust blowing off the ragged overhand. She darted inside before she would sneeze.
“I hate this part,” Ethan muttered into her ear as they stood in front of one of the hanging rugs.
Maura stifled a giggle as she said, “volunteers Maura Lansing and Ethan Wright, main office level please.”
Slowly, the carpet wrapped around them, encasing them in a tube of fabric no more than four feet wide. A gentle lurch made Maura grab Ethan’s arm for stability. His eyes were screwed firmly closed and he muttered softly, “there’s plenty of space, not at all cramped, plenty of space…”
Only a moment later their textile chamber ground to a halt and slowly unfurled into a plain hanging once more. A sign on the wall, so new that the paint still looked wet, read, “Wizards Without Borders: you too, can make a difference.”
“Merlin, that’s wretched,” Ethan moaned miserably as he staggered forward. “I’ll never be able to get used to it.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby,” Maura commanded, punching his arm. “And look, lucky you, you’ve even managed to catch Josef- if you hurry.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Ethan was sprinting down the hall after the retreating figure. “Josef, wait! Just the person I wanted to see!”
Maura smiled, shaking her head as she made her way over to the mail desk. “Good afternoon, Ahmed. Have there been any owls for me today?”
The bearded man behind the desk looked up from his paper and beamed at her. “I think there may have been something,” he replied while searching for her pigeon hole. “Here we go. And how are your charms classes going?”
“Quite well! The students are all working and trying so hard,” Maura gushed, proud of her charges. “And this morning little Muhammad, the Healer’s boy, performed a nearly perfect cheering charm on his second try. They’re all just so hungry for knowledge!”
Ahmed gravely nodded his head. “Since we threw the French out, schooling is a privilege. Even before then few children could go to the French wizard’s schools. So you see, we are all very grateful for the miracles that you volunteers have brought about.”
Maura smiled weakly, feeling her cheeks reddening under his praise. With a quick farewell she beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the room.
The envelope he had passed her was heavier than usual, and she tore into the thick parchment with mingled feelings of dread and anticipation. As she pulled out the letter, a silver necklace tumbled out of the envelope. Bemused, Maura recognized it as the silver bird her mother wore, a good luck charm that had been passed down for generations. Curious as to its appearance she turned to the letter.
Dear Maura,
I know that we do not always share the same opinions as to what the future holds for you. But, as your father has reminded me, you are of age, and a talented and intelligent witch. I selfishly wanted to keep my little girl at home and safe from the world. I realize now that I can’t do that anymore. It is time for you to fly out on your own, little bird. And so as my mother once passed this necklace on to me when I began a new life with your father, and like her mother before her, I now pass it on to you. May it protect you where I cannot, and remind you that wherever your wings may take you, those back home will always love you. Take care, little bird, and come home to see us from time to time.
Love,
Mother
Smiling at the paper in her hand, Maura quickly clasped the silver chain behind her neck. “Ethan!” she cried, running towards him down the hall. “I can stay! I can stay!”