Once it got late, we turned out the lights to wait for our breakfast. The last time I’d stared at the window all night long, envisioning myself getting out of it, but this time instead I thought of everything that had happened leading up to this moment. I thought of Ayman, Shareef, Ali, and all the other friends and brothers I had made during my captivity. I thought about Pops, who I’d lost, and before long I began to realize that what I had told the Leader that night at the warehouse was true. I was glad I had come to Syria. It really had made me a better person, a stronger person, and now I was going to use that strength to do what those bastards upstairs thought I never would—prevail.
Once the lights were out time seemed frozen. Finally, we began to hear the jihadis moving around and knew Abu Ali would be down shortly with our last meal in captivity. When he’d left and we turned from the wall, our breakfast was laid out in front of us on a silver tray, with two cups of steaming hot tea.
“To freedom,” I said, holding up my cup.
As usual Theo ate like a bird and I ate like a horse, saving nothing but the olive oil and yogurt for Theo to use as lube in case he decided to follow my plan.
When we heard the Adhan for the dawn prayer we knew the clock was running for the second and last time. In an hour and a half we would either be free, dead, or wishing they’d kill us to end the torture.
My heart hadn’t raced when I was kidnapped, but it felt like it was punching its way through my chest as I stared up at the sky waiting for the right light to blossom out of the silence. Most of the jihadis had been done praying for a while now and the noise upstairs was at a minimum, which meant most had gone back to sleep. With the Koran opened to the dawn prayer on my pillow for Kawa to find, and all of our gear rolled up and ready to be handed out the window to me the second I was through, I watched as the sky’s tone lifted until it was just as I wanted it to be.
“Let’s go!” I said.
Theo was on all fours and I was up on his back getting to work on the screen. At first I removed the horizontals carefully in case I had to put the whole thing back together again, but I quickly realized that if I approached the task with that kind of mentality we were doomed to failure and started ripping out the wires like the caged beast I had become. When I had torn out enough verticals and folded the third rail backward, it snapped, just like I’d known it would. There was no way to put the window back together now and no turning back; we either got out or got fucked. I folded down the remaining verticals to cut down on the noise and then the frame was clear and we were good to go. I jumped down and went to put my foot in the rope like I had the first time, but Theo stopped me.
“Forget the rope,” he said, cupping his hands together.
As soon as I placed my bare foot in his hands he boosted me up with all his strength, and I carefully maneuvered my arms, head, and shoulders through the window. From beneath me Theo pushed my legs up so I could inch my way through the second opening. As I reached my arms through like Superman I pushed aside the grain bags, and before I knew it half my body was outside, but it was a tight fit. The wires that I had folded down were ripping through my tee shirt and carving cuts into my abdomen, slowing me down.
I pulled myself out a little more but got stuck around my stomach, so I sucked it in with all my might and thrust the rest of my upper body out into the great wide open as the sky was beginning to turn gray, and just when I thought I was home free I was stuck again. It was my jeans. Half out and with my legs kicking inside, I reached in and tugged on my pants so Theo could unbutton them, but he didn’t get it so I sucked my stomach in again, reached for the button and started trying to get it open. After a second of fumbling, the fabric folded over the button and I slid right out the window in my underwear with my pants around my ankles, like a baby fresh from the womb. The first thing I did as I pulled on my pants was to look up. Above me were two huge wide-open windows with the lights on—and since the generator was humming and they didn’t waste petrol, that meant they were in there.
I crouched down and took the clothes and shoes from Theo. Now it was his turn. The plan was no talking, but that went out the window as soon as I did.
“Take your shirt off,” I whispered to Theo. “And go with two arms! The windows above me are open and the lights are on.”
“No!” he snapped.
Theo got on the bucket, put his foot through the rope, and hoisted himself up until he could place his head and one arm through the window. He didn’t take off his shirt, he didn’t use the olive oil, he didn’t go with two arms, and he wasn’t leveling himself out with the rope, but I gripped him by his wrist and pulled with all my might anyway. After about thirty seconds to a minute it was obvious that his other shoulder wasn’t fitting, and we were wasting valuable time. Finally, as I sat there exposed, he realized
