The Badboy, the Catfish & Me

Twenty-Four

"Inaya," he finally began, "No matter what happens, please don't leave the house like that. It's not safe."

"Okay. I won't."

Baba sighed. "Your mama told me why you guys fought...about what's going on with you and that boy you know from school and how you've been interacting with him online."

"Mama didn't even give me a chance to speak," I complained, and Baba leaned closer. This time, I knew I wouldn't cry. "I hadn't played for a while, but Valentino was so sad I wasn't playing anymore. I felt bad seeing him so sad in school like that. I had to log in. That's why I did last night. I wanted to explain to him first that I wouldn't play anymore rather than just leave him cold turkey." I stopped, and my voice dropped. "Baba, I know it was wrong, lying to him and all that, but I thought if the relationship were online, it wouldn't be haram or hurt anyone. I really like him."

Baba held my hand. "Inaya, I grew up pretty different than your mama did, so believe me, I'm not exactly upset at you for wanting to talk with that boy. But I can't condone the lying, even if I understand." I hung my head at his words. "This goes beyond personal opinions. A matter of faith...." Baba sighed. "I know I'm not one to talk, but I wouldn't want you to make the same mistakes I do. And please forgive your mama... And well, actually, that's kind of the real reason I'm here."

I straightened in my seat, and my brain went blank. "What?"

"I know you and your mama will make up for your fight. It's only normal that you'd argue. But something's happened, and you need to know about it. It's about your mama," he said.

I didn't relax. "Mama?" I repeated, hoping my voice didn't show how terrified I was.

"Yeah. And her family." He exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his dark hair.

It was getting thick again, and that it was beginning to show off his curls. I waited for my dad to speak again, knowing how little I knew of Mama's family.

"You know how your mama's been through a lot," he said.

"I know," I frowned lightly. "It's why she gets sad all the time."

"Yeah, but..." Baba exhaled loudly again. "Inaya, we never told you the whole truth. No, I decided you shouldn't grow up knowing about it."

"Is...is Mama sick?" I whispered. My eyes stung at the sudden idea of my mom having some illness with a finite amount of time to live.

"What? Oh, no. She's healthy. But, um," he swore silently. "How do I even start this?" He swore under his breath again.

I thought it was best not to remind him of the no-swearing policy of our house.

"There was a...shooting that happened fourteen years ago," he started again.

My mind raced through a number of mass shootings that made headlines. Nothing stuck out to me.

"The one in Texas. At a mosque."

My skin prickled. "Oh."

That one. Someone had opened fire at a crowded Jummah prayer. Eighteen had died, and over thirty were wounded. Even though it happened so long ago, Muslim activists did annual reminders about it for awareness on a political and spiritual level.

"Your mama wanted a break. She just started working again after having the baby, and she left you and your little sister with your grandfather."

My eyes widened at the mention of 'little sister' and 'grandfather.' I could feel the world around me begin to constrict as Baba continued.

"Your grandfather went to the mosque with you both that day, and that's the day they were murdered alongside sixteen others."

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My eyes stung. Innalilahi wa inailaihi rajioon. To God, we belong, and to Him, we will return.