Over Easy

The conversation was invigorating and enlightening for both men as the hours flew by. The mullah was very interested in the United States and its people. He asked about the farm Max grew up on and spoke of the harsh inadequacies of his own land. They spoke easily about anything and everything that came to mind. Max asked about Afghan food and recipes. The mullah laughed at this. Ghazi Haider said, “If there is food, it goes into a kettle. The kettle goes on the fire. A wife calls me when it is time to eat.” There were times they laughed heartily; a good sign in any language. At one point, the two men rested on a rock that jutted out over the beautiful Korengal valley below. Max noticed a medallion around his neck. It looked to be a Peregrine Falcon sitting on a rock in the middle of a triangle. Max thought it might be some sort of tribal or family crest. It was very old and worn thin. This man is no poppy farmer. It was a wonderful day. Max hoped his new-found friend felt the same way. Much had been absorbed about each man's way of life. The sun began to pass behind a mountain peak. Max peaked at his watch. It was 1520 hours. Max needed to be back in camp by 1600 hours to prep for dinner or there might be questions to answer. It was time to start moving toward base. He told Ghazi that he would like to cook for him one day. Ghazi said, “I would like that very much. But, I doubt whether your generals would approve of me eating in your, how do you say, mess hall?” Both laughed . Max said, “I will cook in your home if you would permit me.” “Then, you would be insulting my wives .” Ghazi said, as he started to walk away. He came back and shook Max’s hand. Max could feel sincerity coming through the calloused hand of this new found friend. Ghazi walked away again but took only a few steps before turning around. Max watched, as Ghazi Haider walked contemplatively back toward him, once again. A stern look had come to the face of the mullah. Ghazi held out his hands and simply said, “your bag.” Max slowly handed him his assault pack with the mushrooms inside. Max instinctively became guarded at the tone of this request. Max had been trained to know when balance of power shifted. Ghazi said, “You would feed these mushrooms to your countrymen and your generals?” “Yes! Why?” “And to yourself as well?” Ghazi asked. “I must try them first.” Max was guarded but calm. He did not feel a sense of urgency but he recognized the change in Haider’s demeanor. He did not want to cast mistrust onto the day but he was instinctively guarded. Ghazi looked at Max for a few seconds longer as though contemplating a decision. Then Ghazi emptied the assault pack containing the mushrooms over the side of the mountain and handed the pack back to Max. Max was stunned but more curious than upset. Ghazi said, “walk with me.” They walked to a rabbit snare. Max though it that may have been Ghazi Haider’s initial reason for being on the mountain. Haider slowly removed his knife from its sheath. Ghazi cut a mushroom from the ground. He then gouged out the black spot from the middle of the mushroom. Max’s mind was racing. There was a rabbit caught in the snare; frantic to escape. Ghazi took the rabbit out of the snare by its nape and proceeded to open the rabbit’s mouth. He then placed the black spot into the rabbit’s mouth. He held the mouth of the rabbit closed. The mullah closed his eyes and seemed to be praying as he gently stroked the rabbit’s back. He placed it on the ground and washed his hands vigorously with water from his water skin. "Your computers do not have all the answers when it comes to the mysteries of Afghanistan my friend. You must be very careful with the many facets of the Korengal mushroom." Max looked quizzically at Ghazi then down at the rabbit. The rabbit gently snuggled up to the feet of Ghazi Haider. It curled against his ankles as though about to sleep. It took ten seconds or so to die. Max slowly bent over and picked up the dead rabbit. He checked for vital signs; there were none. Ghazi Haider had walked down the mountain path, as Max stood mesmerized holding the dead rabbit. Max shouted down toward the path. “If you don’t want us here, why didn’t you let me feed this poison to my men?” From out of sight the voice of Ghazi Haider reverberated through the valley “There is no honor in that!” The words resounded as they echoed loudly from mountain to mountain above the Korengal valley. THERE IS NO HONOR IN THAT … THERE IS NO HONOR IN THAT … THERE IS NO HONOR IN THAT … There is no honor in that.