Under the Olive Tree

24. Arba'a Wa'Ishrun

It looked peaceful.

But the tension in his eyebrows revealed his lack thereof.

Amani placed the bag on the chair by the horse's stable to wait for him to finish. Completely oblivious to her presence, Muhsin's prayer continued until Amani's legs started aching beneath her. She lifted the bag and took a seat with it onto her lap.

He slid his hands over his face when she'd only begun to consider making her presence known. The chair creaked beneath her and Muhsin's eyes found her faster than she could glance down at the wood in fear it would blister and break beneath her.

"Amani," he stated. What are you doing here?

She could see the question in the way he watched her. "I brought you chicken wraps," Amani rose, extending the bag forward to show him. "Let's eat."

He picked the prayer mat off the floor and began folding it. "I can't. There is a lot of work to be done and I am not yet hungry. You eat. Do you want me to bring over the straw carpet or will you sit on the chair?" He asked.

"The carpet. That way we can both sit on it while we eat."

"I am not going to eat, Amani."

"Why not? I made you food with my own two hands. You should try it to see if you like my cooking before we get married. After that, it will be too late to change your mind about me if you don't like it."

Muhsin disappeared into the stables to hang the prayer mat in its place. "Your cooking cannot change my mind," he murmured on his way past her.

Amani followed him, leaving the bag outside. "You can at least try it, though. Just one wrap. Then you don't have to eat more."

"I'm not hungry, Amani."

"Bas wahid, Muhsin."

He turned to exit back the way he'd come but she stood in his path. Muhsin pressed his lips into a firm line and took a deep breath at her relentlessness. "I do not want to eat," he spoke, his voice gentle as it always was but dry with a misery she saw in his eyes. "I ask that you please respect that."

She frowned. "And I worked hard to cook for you so I ask that you please respect that and eat just one wrap," she lifted her index finger between them. "They're not very big."

Muhsin sighed. "Amani."

"Fine," she rushed back, grabbing the door and pulling shut before he could follow her out. She quickly snapped the lock into place. "If you do not agree to eat just one then I won't let you out and you will not do your work."

The door shook when he attempted to pull it open. "Amani, open the door," his voice came from directly beside the wood. If he really tried, he could probably break it open but Muhsin would not do such a thing. He was gentle even with soulless creatures.

"Tell me you'll eat with me then I'll open it. Otherwise, you'll be stuck in there for even longer. Don't waste time, Muhsin, just listen to me or you will not win," she called back.

"Open the door please."

Amani shook her head and, in the process, caught sight of the bloodied cloth hanging on the inside of the ajar window to her left. "Bas tell me what I want to hear," she walked backwards to reveal more of the familiar shirt hanging inside. The dark redness of the stains had been washed out but not enough to hide what they had come from.

Muhsin had worn that shirt recently, she remembered. At night.

"Just say you'll eat at least one and I'll-," Amani gasped as the back of her foot collided with the bucket of water placed near the trees. Unable to lift her leg over it, she fell back onto the dirt and the water poured onto the dirt around her. "Ah!" She exclaimed, rushing to stand before the mud stained her clothes.