Hadiya
I watch over Jabil as he struggles to balance out his jobs. I didn't tell him about the emergency money that Abbas left in case of something important. I wanted him to be responsible. I want him to show me he won't go back to stealing, that he is responsible enough to ask for a woman's hand and put in the effort to get that woman. I also didn't tell him that I started cleaning homes again, I didn't want to say anything to him because I know he was embarrassed by me doing such jobs and he hates hearing what the women have to say about me. I'm used to it though. ever since I was young I have been so many things. I don't tell him or anyone but Allah is there with me and he knows all of the identities that others have given me. I'm a lot of things according to others
" I'm the poor woman who couldn't marry another man because she's so ugly, I'm the poor woman who cleans homes and does henna because my son is a harami who wasn't raised well. I'm the pathetic woman who couldn't raise her only son well. I'm a loser which by now shouldn't be shocking anymore but I'm trying, I really am and let's not forget my favorite one "the poor crazy woman who thinks her husband is still alive." is it such a crazy thing to have faith that the one you love will return? is it so crazy to believe that if someone is missing there is a chance that they are still alive somewhere? if yes then I should be locked up for how crazy I am.
"khadama" I hear the kids refer to me because that's what they've heard their families call me. I guess no one cares to know the name of someone who they consider less compared to themselves. I look up from the toilet and the kids point at the kitchen "mama said to clean there when your done" I nod awakened from the drift of thoughts I always loom myself into. I think sometimes I think about things so much that I forget what I was initially doing but I was still cleaning. isn't that funny? it's like being able to watch while working but you forget you're working. I guess it's also why I get yelled at sometimes when cleaning, they probably think I forget a lot. I do forget a lot but I also think a lot.
the little girl and her brother stand behind me while I clean the bathroom. they were the most adorable twins.
"khadama," the boy says and his sister slaps his arm trying to pull him away
"yes?" I said observing their cute little interactions
"Have you ever cleaned a cave or like a secret hiding place ?" I laugh at his question
"I won't tell anyone wallah," he says and I can see the curious spark in his tiny little eyes
"I wish I could tell you," I said lowering my head to seem disappointed
he elbows his sister "I told you those places are real" and they come closer "please, please, please you can tell me." I continue cleaning pretending to think
"what about a castle, like the ones mom tells us about behind the hills near the faraway rivers"
"Did your mom tell you who the castles are for?" I asked curiously
"yes, the good kids that behave. I'm going to live there in the future" she nods at her statement confidently. her brother sticks his tongue out at her "I will live in the secret caves where all the secret soldiers go"
"my husband used to hide in those secret caves," I said
"no wayyyyy" he squeals stomping his feet in excitement and making the bathroom floor which I just finished moping dirty.
"Where is your husband now? is he still hiding in the cave?" he whispers the last part
"yes, yes he is" I whisper back signaling with my hand for both kids to leave the bathroom so I can close it. I make sure not to touch kids anymore when doing things like this because their mothers tend to give me dirty looks. the kids tend to be evil sometimes too. I mostly clean the nice houses now since I get money from khadib.
"Can you try to hurry up, my husband is going to be here soon" the mom pokes her head into the room "yeah I'm almost done" her older daughter sits on the couch near the bed watching over me although she is pretending that she is brushing her hair. shes followed me into the other three rooms while also brushing her hair. I understand though and I don't mind at least this way they can't accuse me of stealing. it was after news traveled in the neighborhood about Jabil being a harami that more houses that I cleaned did this. they looked at me suspiciously. it would be less embarrassing if my stomach didn't grumble like a monster. the girl kept side-eyeing me holding in a laugh. I feel my face redden, it's a good thing this is the last house I had to clean for today.
I finish up quickly, I think about buying bread from one of the stands because I feel so hungry, but I know Jabil is going to need my help making up all the money for mehr. I tell my stomach to bear with me until I get home. I think about how the prophet (saw) used to tie a stone to his stomach from hunger. my hunger is nothing in comparison. I send salutations upon him as I continue my walk.
***
I wake up on the couch upset that I woke up. I had another dream about Abbas. I stretch my back and feel so many parts of it crack. I immediately jump off the couch and run to the kitchen, what if I forgot food on the oven? I run into the kitchen then I take a breath of relief. I sit back on the couch and try to read the Quran but I'm still thinking about the dream. I lean my head back gazing at the ceiling
I thought the longing will lessen as time goes on. I thought Abbas will appear one day before me and surprise me. I've thought so many times of the day we would meet again. I've dreamt of smiling and running up to him and hugging him so tightly that I don't let go. I imagined showing him Jabil and thought about how I would introduce him. should I say "you have a son" or "we have a son" or "this is Jabil, he's our son abbas" I've practiced a different phrase multiple times. I've dreamt about me running after him and searching for him, I've imagined finding him and using the swordsmanship that he taught me to fight off the others who try to harm him. I've imagined fighting beside him. In every scenario I've imagined or thought of I could never imagine Abbas's reaction. what would he say? how would he say things? how tightly will he hug me back? what features would form on his face?
would he rest his head on my lap with very little explanation of what happened to him in the past? would he hug me and tell me not to speak just for a little while until he gathers himself?
those are the things I wish I could see in my dreams. I wish I can hear his voice again. just one more time at least. all I ever see is a figure but I know it's him, I can feel the warmth he radiates and how his presence made my heart feel like it was being hugged.
I don't mention these things to anyone, I pretend now that I have moved on but I haven't. when Jabil walks in, I get up to serve him food, and he places a kiss on my forehead. "it's alright mama, you don't have to I already ate at the restaurant" he says. I can see the dark bags around his eyes and how skinny he's gotten. I don't care that the rest call him a harami or feel bad for me because he is my son, I know he changed. I'm proud of him. he sits on the couch beside me. we talk about each other's day. He tells me about a crazy dark horse that reminds me of the one Abbas bought me but I sold it when my uncle took us to his house.
"I had a horse like that too but it wasn't that crazy"
"Seriously?" he sits up interested
"don't look at me like that, when I was young I could even fight with a sword"
"mama are you serious" he laughs as if it's a joke. I feel so offended right now.
"don't laugh at me, I did. Abbas bought me that horse. I called it Kassi"
his smile grows wider
"Jabil stop," I said in disbelief. does this mean when my mom told me stories that I thought were fabricated were real too? he's giving me the same look I used to give her.
"I'm not laughing but Kassi? you called it that"
"you called it bullhead" I retorted and he was laughing
he bites down on his lip and stands to leave I see the smile on the side of his face. I throw a pillow to the back of his head. he laughs out loud scratching his head. "Alhamdulillah, at least you don't have a sword near you" he taunts. I can't believe he honestly thinks I'm making this up.
"good night soldier mama," he said with a mocking smile. I throw another pillow and it misses. damn it.
YOU ARE READING
A silent cry
Historical Fiction"and after all this time of waiting the devil would reach out to me and whisper, he's dead and you are here, how much longer will you wait, how much longer would you deny the truth, at some point, I was afraid that he would unlock my ribcage and sen...
