A STEP IN LIGHT

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ten after five; Ridhwan prepared to go to the mosque for the evening prayers. Birds hummed their sweet tones as they retired to their shelters for the cold winter night. His quick footsteps felt loud on the ground and he recalled his mother’s saying when he was younger, “Walk on the earth mercifully so it can take u back mercifully.” She hated anyone who ‘army-walked’ on the ground as she put it. 

The talk about his refusal to marry went on and on whenever his mum and Aliya sat down to talk. They didn’t understand why he wouldn’t even engage in the topic when they talked about it. He knew why, he knew it was the fear of being like his father that conquered him and the thought of his curse following him.

Salah’s graduation was coming up in a few months and everyone was excited for him. They planned his grand party when he came back. Ridhwan was proud of his brother; he believed in destiny, that God had plans for everyone and what He planned was better in the end. He wasn’t meant to be a pilot after all; he was given something better. Something he loved; being the business man he was, he understood what he did and enjoyed it as well. 

Darkness fell without warning during the winter. The cold weather oppressed people as it pierced deep down into the bones. Ridhwan remembered those days where they had to battle that weather in the streets and he thanked God for where he was at the moment; warm and safe in the cozy house Mr. Omar had left them.

“What’s that yum smell today,” he said as he walked inside the kitchen where his mother and Salma prepared dinner. “Mum’s cooking is the best, no offense Salma… but keep trying you’ll get there someday,’” he teased his sister who loved to cook.  “What’s the special occasion anyway?”

“Mum, he’s dipping his fingers in my stew! Talk to him,” Salma pushed his brother away from the stew she was making. He always did that; tasted everything when he went to the kitchen and he knew Salma hated it.

“Ok...Ok…no more tasting I swear...”

They sat in the kitchen talking and finishing up their dinner preparations. Aziza was a happier woman now; her eyes glittered whenever she laughed. She had the best laugh according to her kids. She made everyone laugh whenever she did; no matter how unfunny the situation was, they would automatically blend it to her laughter and join her.

She had undergone several therapies when she first came to the city but she finally found peace in her to let all the anger and sorrows of her past life evaporate. She was still on depression medications but she knew how to control her mentality; “Never get angry too fast and try don’t stress yourself,” her doctor had told her. What was there to stress her anymore? She had a lovely life with her grown up, healthy children. Seeing them happy was a therapy in itself.

“You know Ridhwan the only thing I ask you before I die…”

“Mum…Mum stop with the dying stories! Look at you, all young like a twenty year old and beautiful and healthy… You have a whole life ahead of you God willing,” he jumped in.

She smiled but knew how to get her point across.

“I mean…before I get too old and loose my memory, I want to see your children… I want to see grandchildren filling up the house, running around... I want to have a daughter-in-law,” she told her son.

“You already have Basam’s wife and Abdullah’s wife…Ali’s wife… Mum you have too many daughters now Salma should get you a son-in-law soon!” he said laughing.

Salma felt shy over these topics so she didn’t say anything.

“Besides they all have children so you are rich in grandchildren…mine won’t make a difference.”

Ridhwan always made the same comments whenever that topic arose and he would dodge by escaping into his small cave. He would find something to do or somewhere to go but this time Aziza held him back.  “I am serious Ridhwan, this time you have to be serious with me as well, at least give me some hope that I’ll see my son a groom soon,” she pleaded with her son.

A heavy, heavy atmosphere suddenly filled up the room. Aziza guessed why her son didn’t want to get married; she knew it was the fear of being Ahmed and not being good enough that held him back.

“You raised up your siblings and you are taking care excellent of us all… you are not your father and you know that. You will make a great husband and your children will be blessed to have you as a father.”

“Mum… I,” he struggled to find the words to comfort his mother. He needed her to be happy; he needed to be happy as well. She was right, he wasn’t Ahmed and he never would be.

“I don’t want an answer now my dear son… just promise me to think about it.”

“I promise,” he told his mum as he kissed her hands.