Lie Girl

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As I entered the room, a man and a woman pushed up from a sofa and stood before me.

"This is Sinela," said Lintah, who moved to my side, put her hand on my back, and eased me forward. I glanced at her once more for hope of reassurance, but the door closed behind her.

The couple smiled at me.

"Hello, Sinela," said the man, whose face seemed larger by a third than most, with eyes equally oversized. His hair and beard were gray, although dark deep among the hairs. "I'm Farooq, and this is my wife, Tooba."

The woman, her face beautiful, if aged, adjusted her blue hijab, so strands of gray hair fell across her forehead. She stepped past a low table set for tea and extended her hand to me. Though filled with confusion, my stomach restless as bees guarding a hive, I took her hand. I returned a small smile.

"I hope your drive was pleasant," said Tooba, retaining my hand. Hers was smooth, contrasting with her wrinkled face.

"Yes, it was nice. We saw many fields of flowers and"—They leaned forward and seemed to consider my voice as if it were an instrument being tuned—"animals."

"Yes, many scenes of the same thing," said Farooq.

Tooba released my hand, put her arm around me, and hugged lightly. Her makeup was pungent, and I noticed how thick the base was on her cheeks and forehead, no doubt to cover the lines. In contrast, her slender neck was smooth and youthful. Better makeup, I supposed.

"She is a lovely young woman, isn't she, Farooq? So slender and such a delicate face."

He nodded. "Would you like some tea?"

A guest doesn't refuse tea, and though my heart beat like a hummingbird's wings, I allowed myself to be guided to a chair close to the table.

Tooba returned to the couch. Farooq lowered his head, touched his forehead, and sat down. Lintah poured the tea.

I kept my eyes on the pale amber liquid. Never before had I been left alone with strangers. This wasn't right, yet my father had permitted it. Why?

"My father— —please, I don't understand."

Farooq said, "Your father will be here soon. He wanted to be here for this but he had something he couldn't put off."

For this? What was this?

I'd been taught to respect my elders, but I had always known who my elders were, had always understood their relationship with me. These people were not my relatives; I was sure of that. Why were they acting as if they were?

As if Farooq had read my thoughts, he said, "Sinela, your family and mine have arranged for you to be married to our son, Sameer."

My science textbooks had illustrations of machines intact then disassembled, like they'd exploded between the pages. A car's engine in one picture, a blast zone of engine parts in the next. I was now Sinela exploded. My head, my limbs, my torso, my bowels, and heart were pinned to the walls of this handsome sunlit room.

I was the coffee my father didn't bring.

"It's not right," I finally managed to say. "My mother . . . she should be here. This cannot happen without my mother."

Tooba nodded. "Your mother has been here, Sinela. We saw her a couple of weeks ago and the agreement has been made."

Two weeks ago, my mother and father had gone out for an evening with friends. They had left my sister, brother, and me with my grandmother. When I had seen my mother and father in the morning, they'd seemed overly concerned about me. Had I slept well? Did I have enough to eat? I thought nothing of it. Nothing.