Under the Olive Tree

9. Tis'a

The next day, Amani's body felt warm so she stayed home in front of the boxed television until Auntie returned from the market to make her warm tea. Every time she'd mentioned they needed to upgrade their television, her aunt had told her that they no longer had much use for it because her kids had grown old and now had their own homes in the city. She and her husband were not interested enough in the broadcasting shows to update the ancient device.

When Auntie came into the living room with a large mug in her hands, Amani nearly repeated the recommendation again. At this point, it had become a traditional joke to bring it up any time she used the television, which wasn't much either.

But the look of genuine worry she saw in her aunt's features made Amani decide against it. Instead, she watched her slide the round table over and place the mug carefully onto its top.

"Are you okay, Auntie?" She asked.

"Amani," she took the seat beside her and Amani pulled her feet off the couch's arms to sit properly in front of her aunt. She crossed her legs, sliding around to face Auntie as she spoke. The way she rubbed her chin made whatever she wanted to say seem serious. "You know you are like my daughter and I am so happy you are here, bas I am going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me."

It definitely seemed serious. Amani's father was supposed to call today so the entire morning had been tense, but now her aunt's behavior was even more concerning. "Did you speak to Baba already?"

She shook her head. "No, this is not regarding your father. If you are honest with me, we can keep this between us as we try to solve it, okay? All I need is truth from you."

"OK," Amani answered nervously.

"Have you been sneaking out of this house after we fall asleep to go to the graveyard?" She asked, her nails clicking against the loose threats of the blue seats beneath them.

Amani's heart didn't quite fall, but it didn't feel comfortable in her chest at the question. Yes, she had been sneaking out to the graves after her aunt and uncle fell asleep. But she was sure nobody had seen her so how would her aunt have known to ask her this question and want nothing except the truth? If she'd ever run into anybody, it was Muhsin. And Muhsin didn't seem like the type who would spread her news to her aunt. To answer the question, Amani nodded.

The color drained from her aunt's face and she gripped her chest, her face contorting as if she might cry. The next question she asked in a tone so confident, it hardly seemed like she expected an answer. "You have been meeting boys there, Amani?"

"What?" Amani's nerves immediately disappeared. "No!"

"It's okay if you have, amti, just tell me."

Amani squinted at her aunt because there was no way the person asking her these questions was her aunt. She must have been switched out. Or Amani was dreaming. "No, Auntie. Why would I meet boys there? I don't even know any boys to meet."

She rubbed her temple. "Then why have you been sneaking over there every night, my love? Where it is so dark and isolated."

"That's why. In the day, people visit and walk through the graveyard so it's comfortable, but at night, it's abandoned. When I think of the people—the children—buried there, I think it must be scary for them just like it is for us. So, I go visit Sity's grave and some of the new ones. I read Koran there, that's it."

Auntie sighed, pressing her palm to her forehead. "From now on, you will only visit the graves in the morning when there are people there, okay?"

Amani frowned. "What? But going there helps me sleep."