MR. ROBERT DAVIS came the next day, and was able to supply additional information about Jamila and her relationship with her family.
Mr. Davis sat in the study, with Ann and Nessa, near the fireplace. Coffee had been served and the doors to the study shut. Leaning back in the comfortable chair, he began his narration of what he had learned about Jamila.
“What we know of Bayan and your granddaughter in the early years comes from friends working with them in the Peace Corp. After Neilan’s death, Bayan was unable to care for their four year old child, alone.”
“Neilan had told her many times how he was unable go home, of his estrangement from his family in the states, and how his letters had never been answered. So, she knew she couldn’t look for help there. Her father was her only hope. Contacting him in desperation, she returned to him in adversity and shame. We haven’t heard of Bayan, since.”
“I believe the Sheikh must have some love for the child that came into his home, even though he chose not to show it, because he didn’t cast her out, or make her into a servant,” Mr. Davis continued. “He instead placed Jamila in the Jordan Valley Catholic School, a prestigious boarding school which would provide her with a fine education and a good start in life, a western school, one he didn’t have to oversee or be involved with. He has provided for all her financial needs, but nothing more.”
“No one, including Bayan has ever come to see Jamila. Her mother may have been married off to a man of her father’s choosing, which is their custom, or she may be living in her father’s house still, we may never know what has become of her. Her father remains unwavering about information on her. It’s a closed subject.”
“The school is about eighty miles north of Amman, the capital of Jordan, about a half hour out of Irbid, near the Yarmouk River, a tributary of the Jordan River.”
“We sent one of our best operatives, a Mr. Michael Todd, and with the help of a good man from Jordan, by the name of Razeen Jaffer, we were able to unravel some of the mystery surrounding Jamila.”
“Razeen has been invaluable as our interpreter and guild in the world of Islam. He was able to convince Sheikh Haddad of the wisdom in allowing Jamila’s rich grandmother in America to find her. They obtained permission from him to visit the school. The child is now sixteen years old, Mrs. Drummond.”
“Once at the school, Mr. Todd told her of her grandmother in America, that her father’s mother had been looking for her, and wanted to know her and communicate with her. I’m afraid she wasn’t too receptive. We’re not sure why. Maybe it was because she was being interviewed in front of her mother superior, or maybe there are other reasons we don’t know about, but she just sat quietly, not saying anything. When asked if she wanted to get a letter from her grandmother or go see her in the states, she simply shook her head no. We couldn’t get anything else out of her,” he concluded, ending his report.
Nessa looked crushed.
Ann asked, “Would she see me, if I went over there?”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Davis responded. “If you’re serious about going, I think I would recommend not letting her know you’re coming. It may be wiser to just approach her spontaneously. Being alone all these years, she probably doesn’t want to be disappointed and has put up a wall around herself.”
“You are very wise, Mr. Davis,” Nessa commented quietly.
“I’ve had a lot of experience with lost children, Mrs. Drummond, unfortunately. Maybe between her mother superior and Razeen, we can get you in to see her, and find out more,” he offered.
“I’d like to go as soon as possible, Mr. Davis. Would you make the arrangements for me? My passport will soon be in order and I can leave right after that,” Ann informed him.
“Fine, Mrs. Henderson, I’ll get going on it as soon as possible. You’ll be hearing from me,” he said, standing up. “Good-bye, Mrs. Drummond. Please don’t give up hope. Time is on our side. In my experience, it just takes time for the children to get used to the new relationships they’re being offered. They soon come around.”
“Time is something I don’t have a lot of, Mr. Davis,” Nessa said, looking him straight in the eyes.
“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe we can at least get a written correspondence going between the two of you.”
Nessa only smiled sadly, while Ann shook his hand saying, “Thank you for coming Mr. Davis. I’ll be packed and waiting to hear from you.”
“Be sure you’re up-to-date on your vaccinations,” Mr. Davis remarked, before leaving.
“I’ll see to it immediately,” Ann told him.
* * * *