The Essence of Noah (Muslim story)

Prac

I don't regret inviting Noah to have dinner with mum and me, but I admit it could have gone better- so much better. It's been a while since I've last been frustrated by Noah's forward nature, and this time round it just had to occur in front of mum. In all honesty that's not even the part that has me most frustrated, it's what he said, or rather what he avoided mentioning on all our little meet ups on the balconies.

I could barely sleep last night, what with mum hogging most of the covers and my mind traitorously wandering back to the kebab hut and staring straight at Noah's surprised expression at mum's statement. I kept wincing and forcing my eyes shut, wanting to un-see and un-hear everything in hopes of forgetting, and perhaps tricking my stomach into undoing its tight knots of guilt. However when I woke up this morning for fajr, and saw the living area lights from Noah's apartment spilling their glow onto his balcony, the knots only constricted.

I'm not even sure anymore if my uneasiness stems from what happened last night, or how it was handled. I admit, I was rash, and maybe a bit too impassive, but I was just as confronted as he was. Nonetheless, I should have apologised. I should've have sucked it up simply, said sorry and taken the paper bag of felafels as a greasy peace offering. Maybe then, when we reached our landing, Noah would have shared his warm smile and bid goodnight with mum, with me as well and I wouldn't be feeling like a Debby downer.

"Hana is the taxi here yet?" I lean on the banister of the balcony, shifting my gaze between the street below and the apartment to my side.

"No," I reply for at least the sixth time. "They'll send you a text when it comes."

"I don't want to miss my flight."

"You won't." I steal a glance at Noah's balcony, angling to see inside his apartment, but there's no sight of him.

"You could've just dropped me off." I sigh as I turn to mum, whose taken yet another of my scarfs and tied it as a bandana around her hair.

"I've got a prac. I can't miss that." Mum shakes her head as she walks around to the kitchen cupboards.

"Do you think I have time for a cuppa?"

"Beats me."

"Have you got any of those travel mugs?"

"Nope." I stare down at the street and notice the yellow Holden pulling up behind the VB. At the same time I hear mum's phone ring with her message alert, and I can't help but be impressed at their accurate timing.

"It's here." We both say simultaneously and I chuckle lightly as I walk back into the apartment. Mum leaves the box of Lipton tea bags on the bench and quickly walks over to her suitcase and rolls it towards the door. I follow behind, feeling oddly blue at her abrupt stay and departure.

At the door, mum rolls her suitcase onto the landing and turns back to me. "Alrighty then." She smiles and so do I, but mine doesn't pass the corners of my mouth and heighten my cheeks and display my baby crows feet like hers. Pulling me into a hug, she rubs my back and squeezes my upper arms. "I'll see you in..."

"Two weeks or so."

"Love ya." She pulls back and pushes my scarf up over the crown of my head and kisses there.

"Love you." I watch her as she makes her way down the stairs with her suitcase, and I lean a little on the railing to watch her walk through the lobby. My eyes widen slightly in surprise as I see Noah walking in through the doors with a plastic bag, stopping when he sees mum and smiling kindly.

I watch as they chat momentarily, sharing brief words accompanied with a chuckle from both. I watch intently at their exchange, wishing to talk as freely with Noah as mum can, but mostly feeling more pathetic at not being decent enough to apologise. I continue to walk as mum pats Noah's arm and he holds the door open as she walks out with her suitcase. I watch as she turns and waves goodbye and he returns the gesture. I watch until the door closes and he turns around, and for the briefest moment, he catches me watching.