Page 57 of A Life Imagined
“Rayan!”
He opened his eyes.
Asmarina’s face filled his vision, her features flattened with fear.“Rayan!”
He returned to the present and blinked away the blood trickling into his eye.
“Are you all right?”she asked, gripping Rayan’s arm to steady him.
“Farhan… where are the girls?”
“They’ve gone on ahead.”
“Laurent told me to look out for you.”
“You just worry about yourself, Ayari.”Her hand was wrenched away as the police officer once again pulled Rayan’s arms behind his back and led him out of the camp.
Chapter Twenty
Mathias had visited the Calais Center for New Migrants only once.Rayan had just started teaching his acclimation course, and Mathias was curious.He found it difficult to imagine Rayan—a man who’d proven so good at following orders—in the role of instructor.The center shared a building with several other service organizations in a business park not far from downtown.There was little to distinguish it from the other office facades besides a sign by the door in French and English.Inside, he’d found the reception desk unmanned and continued down a hallway lined with posters for food parcels and legal support.Flyers pinned to the walls offered a selection of courses on cooking, budgeting, and finding temporary work.
He heard Rayan’s voice before he saw the open door to the classroom.It was not the voice of authority.Instead, Rayan sounded like he did when he was telling Mathias about a book he’d just finished—impassioned but unsure if what he said made any sense.Mathias walked a little farther down the hall and could see the first row of students staring at Rayan at the front of the room.They comprised a range of ages, from younger kids to teenagers, and all were diligently taking notes.Mathias listened a while longer as Rayan explained about gendered nouns and then saw himself out.He’d never told Rayan that he’d come.
When they’d first arrived in France, Mathias had assumed Rayan would continue his studies, perhaps find work at a local university.But he’d been lured by another calling—one Mathias had viewed with cynicism until he began to realize how much the work resonated with the parts of Rayan that had never fit into their old world.Seeing him in front of that class, Mathias had caught a glimpse of who Rayan might have been had his life taken a different turn—had their paths never crossed.
“Did you hear?”Elise asked, poking her head into the office.She’d been out in the warehouse, supervising Vicente as he shelved a family of brass sculptures she’d found at a flea market in Versailles.If his appraiser was picky about the pieces she selected, she was even more fastidious about how they were handled.
Mathias was at his desk, moments away from abandoning the Turkish customs document he’d been attempting to decipher.His frustration didn’t make him any more amenable to Elise’s annoying habit of asking a question that required him to ask one back.
He gave an irritated sigh.“About what?”
“The police shut down part of the Jungle.Apparently, there was some kind of riot, and a bunch of people have been arrested.”
Mathias took out his phone and dialed Rayan’s number.When the man didn’t pick up, he stood and pulled on his jacket.“Don’t let Vicente out of sight.He gets distracted this close to clocking off.”
He was about to head out when the phone at his desk began to ring.He picked up the receiver and heard a crackle of static before an automated voice announced, “This is an incoming call from the Calais Police Department.Please hold while you are connected.”
There was a click, and when Rayan spoke, his voice sounded tinny.“Hey.”
At least he’d had the sense to call Mathias at the office and not on his cell.“This had better not be what I think it is.”
There was a long pause.“You’re angry.”
Mathias sucked his teeth, a harshly worded reproach ready to spew from his lips.Instead, he managed a clipped reply.“I’m hanging up.”
If there was one place in the city Mathias had hoped to never set foot inside, it was the Commissariat de police de Calais.He strode into the station lobby to discover it packed with people.Several aid workers in blue vests marked with the names of charitable agencies were pressed against the front desk, engaging in a heated exchange with the harried-looking receptionist.
“He’s been unfairly arrested,” a larger man with a graying beard was saying to the woman seated behind the glass screen.“What happened today was an illegal raid.”
Beside him, a dark-haired woman paced agitatedly.She wore a pale-green scarf around her shoulders that was mottled with smears of reddish brown.It took Mathias a moment to recognize Laurent and Asmarina Moreau, the couple who ran the new migrant center.He’d seen them briefly at a community fundraiser for local business leaders that he’d attended at Rayan’s insistence.Mathias had left early but not before donating a chunk of cash that he’d later used as a tax write-off.
“If you don’t release him, we’ll go to the media.I’m sure the rest of the world won’t hesitate to condemn this city and your actions—”
“Sir, Mr.Ayari’s bail is set at five thousand euro.We can’t release him until the bail is met.”
“Five thousand euro?”Laurent echoed, incredulous.“We’re a nonprofit organization.We don’t have that kind of money lying around.”
Mathias approached the desk and took out his wallet.He peeled a series of notes from the fold and slid them over to the receptionist.Laurent stared at him curiously.
