Ayamin was quiet as we walked through the camp. Her air mattress sat on the sand outside the Winnie the Pooh tent and she rubbed her eyes as we sat on it, looking out at the refugees. There was laughing and the pounding of feet as kids chased each other through the tents. A woman began to cook a pot of rice. I breathed in; the camp had a faint rotten garbage smell. 

‘I’m sorry Danny.’

‘What for?’

Ayamin was looking down at her feet, ‘For not being fun today. It hurts when she hurts.’

‘It’s okay,’ I reached down and slipped my hand under hers, Aya’s fingers curled between mine and then she dug her toes into the sandy dirt.

‘It’s just… I want her life to be more than a hospital bed.’ she paused for a moment and stared up at the sky, ‘How would you feel about taking her on a mission to see the stars?’

‘Teete? Tonight?’

‘Tonight.’

I grinned a big toothy grin, and that was all the answer she needed, she pushed my shoulder, ‘You’re too much Danny.’ 

****

I didn’t realise how good I was getting at sneaking out until I was past our guard and running towards Ayamin’s tent.

It was closing in on midnight – most of the camp was in bed, but there were still refugees who peered from tents as I ran past.

Winnie the Pooh’s face was lit by the gas cooker Ayamin used to boil water. Beside her sat two plastic cups and a bowl. She hugged me the moment I was in reach.

‘I’m glad we’re doing this tonight,’ she poured the steaming water into her bowl and added tea leaves. ‘She’s getting tired.’

We carried our tea through the camp. The air hardly had a chill to it and we wore just a single layer each. 

At night the makeshift hospital was probably the nosiest place in the camp. As we slipped into it someone was crying out for a family member. Ayamin paused as we passed them. She turned to me and whispered.

‘They’re dreaming about home.’

‘Really?’ One man was shrieking like he’d been stabbed, three beds down from him a little girl was curled up in a ball whimpering. A wet stain showed through her blanket.

‘It sounds more like nightmares to me.’

Ayamin just nodded, ‘That is home for us.’

As we walked a few patients looked up, but no one spoke to us. We made it through to Grandma Teete who lay on her back, breathing deep. A pale light made the wrinkles around her eyes stand out. Ayamin placed the tea on the table beside her.

‘Teete.’ she said, ‘Teete?’ 

Grandma Teete rubbed her eyes and looked up, she had a childlike smile on her face, ‘Aya?’

Then she began to cough, long and hard. Aya fetched tissue from the table beside her and helped Teete clean the blood from her hands. 

Teete croaked a few words into Ayamin’s ear and Ayamin told her about the night sky.  

‘Aya – aya.’

We slid the locks off her bed and gently pushed it down the hallway. Grandma Teete was doing her best not to giggle, occasionally a tiny bit of laughter would escape her and Ayamin would hold her finger to her lips. When I laughed Ayamin rolled her eyes, ‘The two of you would make very bad secret agents.’

The patients who couldn’t sleep stared at us, one guy called out, but nobody stopped us. We moved through the hospital to the entrance and pushed Teete into the night sky. 

We set up camp slightly away from the hospital, jacking up Grandma Teete’s bed so she could drink her tea. 

The stars were a blanket of light and dark above us. Stripes and shades of blue were mixed between them in a slowly moving dance. The night’s chill was sweet like dew, and Teete sang a happy-sad song that only we could hear. 

Her music died out, and we stood, gazing into the abyss of everything that exists. I felt small, and at the same time just right. A warm hand slipped into mine.

There was a cough, and then another. I tore my eyes away from the stars to Teete, her face strained as she coughed, and her hands held her chest. 

Ayamin and I looked at each other, we took a side of her bed each and began wheeling her back in. 

Teete’s hands found our wrists and she squeezed them while we passed through the white hospital doors. As we put the locks back on her bed a light coming from some of the equipment showed the tears running down her face. 

She spoke four soft words in Arabic, and Ayamin started to cry. 

I looked at her, ‘What does it mean?’

Ayamin opened her mouth, but her voice didn’t seem to work, I laid a hand on her shoulder as she sobbed, she wiped her eyes and whispered to me. 

‘It means I love you… it means thank you.’

Teete took my hand, she took Ayamin’s, she held them together between hers and repeated the words.

The old lady burst into another coughing fit and I felt my eyes water. Ayamin looked at me, tears streaming down her face. 

The sound of footsteps came from the end of the hallway. A white nurse’s uniform moved through the patients. They stopped to check on someone.

We squeezed Grandma Teete’s hands, she nodded, and we ran. 

I pushed through the hospital’s flap doors. The outside felt colder without hot tea and Grandma Teete. Ayamin pulled me into a hug. 

‘You did good Aya,’ I said, rubbing her back, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ 

I tried to step back but Ayamin’s feet dragged on the ground, her arms were still around me, ‘Come with me, I won’t sleep alone.’

I glanced back toward the barracks; I would have to slip back in at some point. Then I saw the tears on her face and touched my thumb to her cheek.

‘I can’t stay long.’

I held her, then lifted her, and carried her back to the tent. 

‘I’m such a sook,’ she said as she rocked against me, ‘It’s just she’s the only one left. When Teete goes it’ll just be me. Alone.’

I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t know how to say it. Her cheek brushed mine. She’d been strong, but the world had been brutal. I wanted to protect her.

Ayamin let out another sob as we unzipped the tent and crawled inside. She pushed off her shoes, and pulled a blanket over her, leaving the left side of the inflatable mattress uncovered. 

I lay down beside her. Ayamin reached around me with the blanket until I was part of her cocoon. She curled up with her back against my chest. Her hair tickled my nose. 

‘You have no idea how happy she was to see those stars,’ she said.

‘I could see her smile.’

Ayamin’s hands found my arm and held it to her, ‘That little song she sang when she was looking at the sky – it was about people flying amongst the stars.’

I breathed in the warm air between us, ‘Tomorrow let’s look for a Teete Star, she can pick any one she wants.’

Ayamin was quiet for a minute, I felt her chest rising and falling and the beating of her heart, ‘Thanks Danny,’ she said. 

‘For what?’

‘For being here, for being you.’

I lay there another two hours, staring at the roof of the tent. Ayamin passed out, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep. 

Then, as the sky began to tinge red, I slipped out from next to her and ran back to the container.