Once Upon A Muslim

Chapter 20 | Ups & Downs

"So, how are things going for you? " she asks curiously. This might be the first time she's actually interested to my replies. I almost smile. She's changed - for the better.

"Suckish, if that's even a word."

"How come?" she presses, the previous topic being already fogotten.

I let out a long sigh as I stare at my bag on the couch. "I go to this one majid for classes and there are these girls who just drive me crazy. That's the least to say."

"What do they do?"

"Um, one pushed me into the wall,  and another made me trip and fall. They just cackled in delight and it was just so disturbing." She asks how they look like, and I'm starting to feel a bit nervous. All these questions. "One has a roundish face with blue or brown or green eyes - it's some color. She's short. I'm like five inches taller than her. And-"

"No,"  Nadia interrupts me.

"No?" I ask, confused.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Those girls are my friends," she says with a sigh.

"Oh," I reply awkwardly. "Well, I need to go hit the hay. I'm exhausted, and on top of that, I have to study for a history test tomorrow," I inform her. We say salaam to each other and she hangs up. I return the phone and drag my feet up the stairs with my bag. Since I don't have my driver's license on me, Ruwayda has been my ride for the past few weeks. I feel kind of bad for her. I'll just take a bus from now on so it won't be hard on her.

As I walk in my temporary room, I realize that I've been staying here for two months, and it felt like years at some point, and only just days at another. It's really fascinating how time can speed up or slow down due to your surroundings. It's also scary too. I might leave this place someday soon, if God wills.

After praying Dhuhr, I go to sleep, my mind drifting wanderlessly. And then the dreams start yet again.

***

After Mom had that boiling phone call with Sarah, I retreated to my room to process what just happened. Mom seemed so angry. And beneath the apparent anger on her face, there was hurt. And beneath that, the feeling of betrayal.

I still didn't get why she despised Sarah so much. Maybe because she converted? She must have felt betrayed that Sarah converted - but Sarah had her own life and her own choices. That includes everyone. Our life, our choices.

Dad, obviously, was fine by it all - except for the fact that Mom was so frazzled and infuriated. The next following days, dinner wasn't a time to socialize much. I've brought up the subject of my upcoming field trip. Dad signed the permission slip and gave me five dollars for the fee while Mom just ignored the whole thing.

Kara and Keith, being six and seven, were oblivious to the tension between us. They would just ask why we weren't talking. So I'd talked with them, because they didn't need to know the truth. They were too young.

One day after I came back home from school, I waited for my dad to arrive home from work. I then grabbed his big hand and led him to his study and locked the door. He was amused by it all, me being ten years old, but I just kept a straight face since what I needed to discuss with him was important and serious.

"Hey pumpkin. How's it going?" he asked with a grin on his face. "I bought you candy."

"I don't want candy right now," I replied, although in honesty, I did. I just didn't want to get distracted. "Daddy, why is Mom angry at Sarah? She didn't do anything to her. Mom told me that Muslims kill people. She never said about Sarah killing anybody." His face registers to shock and his grin drops. "Sarah's not killing anybody. Is she?"