TRIALS (Completed)

Twenty-two

Kauthar felt her eyes burn as she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. She sneezed, almost using her hand to wipe her face. Then she remembered the knife she was holding, and the onion behind her current waterworks. 

After dropping them inside the kitchen sink with a loud clatter, she washed her hands and grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe her face. 
Sniffing again, she called out, "Barakah!" She looked around for a tissue.  "Barakah!"

She spotted one on the plate rack above her. As she took it, about to call out again, she noticed Barakah's favorite green plastic plate—sitting behind the recent ones they had used for breakfast: dry. unused. 

She returned the tissue, returned to the sink, and resumed her work, slicing and crying, for real this time. 

Minutes later, she walked slowly to the living room and slumped on the sofa, face down. Three days now, and Barakah was still not back. She sighed into the soft velvet pillow on her lap and pressed herself into the seat, hoping it would cushion her heavy heart. 

Perhaps they should just report the case, She thought. If not, this guy would keep turning their heads. He claimed to be avenging the wrong they did to him. But neither of them could remember wronging a man. He claimed that they took something away from him, but Kauthar was sure he meant someone. And they could've confirmed that if not for Ismail's dumb ransom offer. All it did was aggravate him further, and since last night's call, he hadn't called again. 
Kauthar sat up, wondering if she should call him, as she had memorized the number. But the number he called with differed from the first one, how would she know if he hadn't gotten rid of the SIM already?

A scent of boiling meat spiced with onions, curry and thyme sailed past her nose, signaling her to the kitchen. As she stood up, she wondered if Barakah was eating well, for she hated food without meat. 

On her way back to her seat, a knock sounded on the door. Kauthar hissed slightly, hoping it was not one of the comforters, here to give her advices she didn't need. She opened the door, eyes widened at the sight of her father-in-law and his wife—whose name she couldn't recall. 

"Sannu Kauthar." Alhaji Muhammad smiled at her. 

"Sannu da zuwa," she let them in to the house and shut the door, thinking: did Ismail know they were here?
After serving them some snacks and drinks. She sat on the floor and enquired about their wellbeing. 

"I'm so sorry about Barakah." Ismail's mother said, slanted obsidian orbs filled with pity. Kauthar smiled and nodded. 

"How far with the Naval Intelligence Unit, have they found anything?"

She shook her head, feeling a pang of guilt for not involving them in the first place.  "I'm sure they'll find something. They're the military, after all." Kauthar nodded.

There was another knock on the door. Kauthar released a sigh of relief, not really sure why. On seeing the faces of Hidaya and her mother, she smiled widely. "Sannunku." 

"Yawwa," Hidaya's mother beamed and pulled her in for a hug. Kauthar held her tightly, realizing that this was what she was craving for, not pity and incessant questions. "How have you been?" She asked as they pulled away. 

Kauthar smiled, then turned to Hidaya who was on her phone. "Sannu Hidaya."

"Yawwa." She replied without raising her head. 

After sitting them down, she returned to the kitchen to check the meat. Then she moved to the store, wondering what to cook.

Still clueless, she served the snacks for Hidaya and her mother, then settled on the floor to watch Africa Magic Hausa with them.