Page 81 of One Night with Dr. Billionaire

"Abdi. He is a sweet, sweet boy."

"Abdi Gedi?" The man's eyes grew wide and suddenly sparkled.

"Yes! Yes! Abdi Gedi. How did you know?"

"I will be doing his surgery."

"As-Salam Alaykum. I am honored to meet you." He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his forehead. "Thank you, brother, for coming to save Abdi's life." He seemed to wipe a tear from his eye. "May I give you something?"

"I would be honored."

He bent down to reach into his bag and pulled out a red scarf with black squares printed on it. He twisted it up and motioned that he wanted me to hold out my arm. When I did, he wrapped the scarf around my wrist twice and tied it.

"Wear this. It will be your safety."

I looked at it, unsure of what this meant and if I could trust this man. It was like he could read my thoughts.

"I know it's strange," he said, "but this is the mark of the friend of all. It is the universal symbol that you must be protected while you are in Somalia. I wish you safe passage." A chill went through my body.

"I will wear it," I assured him.

"Please," he nodded again, and then seemed to curl back into his seat.

What an incredible exchange. I felt like the universe was on my side, somehow.

When we finally arrived, the plane just pulled onto the tarmac and they announced that we would be getting off there and walking into the airport. As we disembarked off the plane, I let the gentleman sitting beside me get off first, then Karen, whom I followed. As we stood at the top of the stairway down, the heat hit us right away.

As we passed customs, we picked up our boxes of additional supplies and headed toward the exit. There was a man with a sign that said, "Harrington", so we approached him.

"Please, get in quickly," he motioned us inside the black van. Dr. Al-Sawi told me that a black van would be waiting for us and it seemed like all was working out. The man loaded up our boxes, and then climbed into the driver's seat. Karen looked at me with bewildered eyes, but we were in the same boat. Just trusting everything was going to be properly arranged.

The driver looked up at me through the rear-view mirror.

"Sir," he called back.

"Yes?" I answered.

"May I ask where you got that scarf on your wrist?"

"Someone gave it to me on the plane." Seeing his eyebrow raise, I asked, "What does it mean to you?"

We rumbled on a few more seconds in silence, the bright sun blaring into the van, highlighting the sandy landscape.

It appeared that he was choosing his words carefully. "It means that you must be protected at all costs."

My heart stopped.

He looked up at me again. "What did the person look like? The one who gave you the scarf?"

I described the man to him, wishing I had paid a little more attention. He had put on dark glasses when we left the flight, but had a colorful knit hat. Otherwise, all I could say was that he had a gap between his two front teeth.

The driver perked up. "Was one of the front teeth gold?"

"Yes. Yes, it was."

He whistled and then nodded, shaking his pointer finger into the air.

"You have been anointed. He must have liked you. He is the leader of the rebel group here. No one will touch you. Lucky man, you are."

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