The Theory of Chance

Chapter 1: Happy Birthday to Me

"Oh Aisha! You remember this picture with you and Usman? Aww you guys look so cute!"

"No Mama I don't remember, we were only children remember," I remarked while rolling my eyes. My mother was going through the photo album and gushing over all of my childhood photos because it was my birthday. Every. Single. Year. It's the same crap. Same photo album, same pictures, same expressions, same comments, and the same reactions from moi.

Usman was my childhood friend when we lived back in Harlem. But, ever since we moved we lost contact with the Al-Junaid family. We were so close, my mother and his mother, my father and his father and well, him and I. We would fight and make-up like real siblings. My mother missed them so much, so in honor of their loss she tortures me with childhood photos. On my freakin' birthday! I sighed an exasperated sigh and fell back into the couch.

"What happened Aisha? Don't you miss them?" she asked me glassy eyes. So sensitive gosh.

"I don't know Mama. I can't even remember them that much. It's all just faded memories. Nothing more, nothing less." I explained, her eyes welled with even more tears if that's even possible. She shook her head and looked back down at the album.

"Don't you remember anything? Anything at all?" she pressed on with pleading eyes. I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really, just the goodbye and the fact that we fought and played together...yeah that's pretty much it." After I said that, she suddenly slammed the album closed making me jump slightly. But, she didn't do it out of anger. She usually does that when she's going to explain something. I know, weird. She turned towards me and took both of my hands into hers.

"You know what I think?" she asked and stared at me expectantly as if I'm supposed to know. Even after I didn't say anything she kept staring.

"No Mama I don't know! Gosh I'm not a mind reader!" I exploded. Look I try to respect my mom and everything but she knew that was coming.

"I believe that we will see each other," she declared. "Do you believe in miracles?" I stared at her in confusion for a second. "Well, do you?"

"No?" I said, stretching out the last consonant making it sound more like a question. She looked completely unfazed though.

"Well I do, and I believe that we will be united with the Al-Junaid family somehow, somewhere, some time. Do you hear me?" she barked. I cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes but...I don't exactly agree because if you think about it logically, we don't know anything about them anymore. We tried visiting them and found their house abandoned. We tried calling them and their phone number didn't work. There's no way in chocolate brownies and candy sprinkles that we will ever find them." I explained. She shook her head and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"That's why miracles happen Aisha, to make the impossible possible," she sighed and turned away from me as if giving up. But I knew better, she wasn't even close to being done. We've had this conversation before, actually...every year.

"I know we're Muslim and we're supposed to believe in that stuff but I..." I tried to explain but she put up her hand, signaling for me to stop.

"I know what you're going to say, don't say it."

"Okay," I chirped before shrugging. At that moment we heard a key in the lock and I got up to meet my dad who was coming from the masjid.

"Assalamou alaykoum!" He boomed as he entered. A smile lit up my face as I approached him.

"Daddy!" I cheered like a little girl as I embraced him. He hugged me back tightly.

"Eh Mamy a be chogori? (How is it Mom?)" he asked softly with a laugh in his voice.

"Alhamdulillah," I answered. "You seem happy." He let go of me and proceeded to take off his shoes.

"Yes, I am happy. Very happen indeed." I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously.

"Spill," I demanded.

"Yeah," my mother confirmed, also giving him a suspicious look. "Spill." My father grinned and looked at both of us before speaking.

"Guess who I saw today at the masjid?" He asked, but didn't give us any time to guess. "Sameer Al-Junaid!" he cheered.

"What?!" My mother bursted out. "You can't be serious!"

"Yes, I'm very serious. I couldn't believe it myself either but then..." That's all I heard my father say after I blocked out their convo in order to think. Sameer Al-Junaid, isn't that...? No! No, it couldn't. But it was.

"What?!" I exclaimed. "You can't be talking about-"

"Yes!" my mother interrupted. "Yes Aisha it's a miracle!"

"Miracle my ass," I muttered under my breath.