Amani was mopping the floor when her Aunt returned from the market, requesting help with the bags of fruit she'd purchased. Together, they washed the grapes, fresh figs, and mangoes in the sink before placing them in the large plastic container that slid easily into the fridge. For the next few days, anybody who opened the fridge would snake on the fruit until the container became empty once again. That would be the next time she needed to make the trip.
"Has Baba said anything?" Amani asked, eating a few grapes while her aunt packaged the duck she'd also purchased.
Auntie didn't seem to mind touching its featherless carcass. It gave Amani goosebumps to see the animals they would eat uncooked, as nothing more than dead bodies. She turned away when her aunt held the long neck. "Anything about your decision or anything about something else?" She questioned the girl.
Amani shrugged. "Just anything."
"Well, he was definitely taken aback to hear that you didn't want to go back but then I told him about the boy who had asked for your hand. That intrigued him. Even though he tried to remain unaffected, I could tell he was surprised," she smiled.
"I don't think he expected me to get married when he sent me here. It must have been a shock to all of them," she murmured. Though it was her father who gave the final, awaited yes that allowed her and Muhsin to formally exchange rings, she felt guilty to have done it without the presence of her family.
Auntie reached forward to pat her shoulder but Amani shrunk back from her duck-scented hands. "A good shock I believe. And it will be even better once they come meet Muhsin before your wedding."
Amani dropped the grape she'd just placed past her teeth. "They're going to come?" She asked, her eyes wide.
"You don't think your father will allow you to marry someone he'd never met even once, do you? Do you know nothing about your father, Amani?" Auntie's tone was humorous but there were no jokes in her eyes.
She blinked. "They're going to come? Here?"
"No, they will travel to China. Yes, here."
"Baba said that?"
Auntie nodded. "He is looking for tickets now that summer vacation has begun for your brothers. Soon, Muhsin will have to meet your family like you met his. I am confident they will love him just as much as the rest of the town does. Your father will be happy."
Amani left her aunt in the kitchen and decided now would be a better time than ever to visit her grandmother's grave. She'd been putting it off because she anticipated all the gloating that would come from her deceased relative. She would say she knew this would happen, that Amani had silenced her, but she was right in the end.
It felt weird to imagine her father meeting Muhsin. Her mother. Brothers. She wondered how he would get along with her overly dramatic siblings. They were the exact opposite of his perfectly disciplined self. How would that work?
What felt most unusual was that she would witness both of her worlds colliding. The western world she'd experienced with her family, with all the high school gossip and crushes, with her partially tainted past would now meet the world she'd created around her and Muhsin. She worried he would learn something he didn't need to know.
Something that would make him look at her differently.
Then, as she turned to corner, Amani contemplated on a decision she hadn't considered before. What if she told Muhsin the truth? He would listen to her. He would allow her to explain herself. Muhsin was not the type to silence her and turn away before hearing the entire story. But what if he looked at her differently?
What she'd done was normal where she'd come from.
Here, it would be social suicide to be with a boy she'd been. Not only socially, dying would be better than being caught in bed with someone who was not her husband.
Maybe she could tell him.
Maybe she should.
"What do you think I should do, Sity?" She asked, her voice clear enough in the silence around her. The moon was lifting higher into the night sky but she'd spent hours thinking to herself in the graveyard. For most of them she'd sat in the silence, her mind empty, her soul basking in the peace that could only be found where the dead laid in content acceptance of their fate.
It was something she'd never experienced in any other cemeteries. How could lost souls prefer to stay happily within their graves rather than roaming the dark space and bringing with them an animosity that would chase anybody away? Well, they would have to be something other than lost, wouldn't they?
They'd have to found souls.
Amani shook her head. What was wrong with her? She'd become distracted once again. Why was it so hard to keep her train of thought sometimes? There were more important matters to worry about other than the emotional state of the dead.
For all she knew, they had no emotional state.
If they did, she hoped it wasn't anything like their physical state, though. That would not be very-.
She lifted her hands to her head and groaned.
"Focus, Am-."
"-ani," a voice whispered.
Amani paused. No.
She had imagined it.
She had definitely imagined it. There was nobody except her in the graveyard. Ghosts might have been real but they wouldn't communicate with her. She wasn't crazy. She hadn't heard anything."
It came again. "Amani!" A hushed shout.
Amani shot up, spinning to search around her for a white phantom or black shadow. Could it be an angel? Or a demon? She begged that it would please be neither. Her heart did not pound in her chest but held its breath just as she did. In the dead silence that fell over her once her thoughts completely halted, Amani heard a quick shuffling in the distance.
She took a step back from the main walkway on her right where she heard the racing footsteps quickly approaching her. No, Amani whispered internally, taking another step back in hopes that she would blend into the shadows. No, no.
"Amani!" It came again.
Then a figure appeared into the dimly lit area at the end of the section she stood in. It peeked toward her then turned its direction, headed straight for her with a speed that made her want to cry. Amani quickly moved as far back as she could. She opened her mouth to scream but a firm hand sealed the sound before she could call for anyone to save her. "Shh," he demanded.
Wait.
"Hmph," Amani pushed his hand away. "Muhsin? I thought-."
He slapped his hand over her mouth again. "Be quiet," he hissed, tugging them both a short distance away from the walkway before pushing her between the tightness of two rising graves. "They're coming. I saw them from the window. I knew you'd be here."
"Who is they?" She asked.
"This way," someone whispered faintly in the distance. If she hadn't been listening for it, Amani could never have heard it.
Muhsin raised his index finger between them, motioning for both of their silence as more footsteps approached down the main walkway. He pushed Amani into the side of the grave behind her, her back to the voices quickly moving closer, so she may hide within its shadow. With nowhere else to look, Amani's attention slipped over the features of the highly alert man standing before her.
He was staring at nothing beside them, directing all his focus into his ears as he listened to their approach. His chest rose and fell with breaths frantic to balance his respiration levels after he'd sprinted from his house all the way to graveyard with occupational soldiers on his tail. Amani could see his hair trembling over his forehead.
A flashlight illuminated the row of graves where Amani had just been standing. Muhsin leaned as far away as he could, the yellow-tinted light stopping a few inches from his shoulder.
Amani's heart began its race.
"She is usually here," the voice spoke more clearly. "I have been monitoring the girl. She visits someone in this row."
Her eyes widened and snapped to Muhsin but he only met her gaze, not letting a single sound travel to betray their location. Monitoring her?
"Are you sure it is this one?" Another asked.
Another flashlight illuminated the row to their right. It caught the edge of Muhsin's shirt before he snapped his arm away, leaning closer to Amani to lift himself off the side of the grave becoming bright. She gripped the material of his shirt, afraid they would see him.
Muhsin kept his head low and turned to the side.
"Yes, it is. I know it by this bush here. She comes every night so look around, the girl must be here, visiting one grave or another."
"And you are sure she is the girl with the Awad children?"
That was when Muhsin's eyes met hers, only a few inches apart. She was being targeted now just because she'd grown close to Fayez Awad's children. Amani saw a blade of guilt stab through Muhsin's expression.
"Yes, it's her. Trust me, we'll find her."
The flashlights turned away from them, pointing down other rows on either side of them. Hearing the hushed conversation of the soldiers around them, Amani developed enough courage to whisper to Muhsin in front of her. "They're looking for-."
He lifted his finger close to her mouth. A look of warning straightened his eyebrows and she knew what he meant. They couldn't risk it now. She would have to wait.
Heavy breathing drew her attention toward the ground on their left and, when she saw the dog looking up at them, Amani gasped. Her fingers tightened around Muhsin's shirt. Not because she was afraid of the familiar coyote, but because last time they'd met, it had barked so loudly at her presence. If it barked at them now, it would lead the occupation soldiers directly to them.
She slowly shook her head.
It whined and Amani held her breath, begging that a greater form of intelligence would strike the dog and it would realize they were hiding from armed men who wanted to take her, or worse.
The dog tilted its head.
Muhsin closed his eyes when it opened its mouth but the loud bark did not come from beside them. Their heads snapped toward the series of dog barks coming from the direction of the grape trees.
"This way! Hurry!" The soldiers shouted, following the sounds.
The dog turned and left.
"Quickly," Muhsin took her hand and tugged her in the opposite direction, back toward the town. They took a trail other than the main one, weaving between graves then through a narrow alleyway until she began recognizing the homes around them. Even when her legs ached, Muhsin tugged her forward.
They only stopped when she tripped in the street behind her own. "Wait, wait," she breathed, struggling to see her torn sandal in the unilluminated area around them.
"Not yet, Amani. It's not safe."
"My sandal tore."
"Take mine."
"No, Muhsin, wait!" She exclaimed quietly. Her sandal was the least of her worries now. "That soldier said he's been monitoring me. Every night I went to the graveyard alone, he was there, watching me. From somewhere I couldn't see—in the dark—his eyes were on me and he probably had his gun, too. He could have killed me. I could have been dead."
Muhsin breathed heavily. "Only visit the graveyards during the day from now on. Or when I'm with you, okay? Alhamdullilah nothing happened until now, but you need to be careful."
"I can't believe he's been stalking me," she murmured to herself then looked up at Muhsin. "They would have found me if you hadn't seen them. You saved my life, Muhsin."
"Let me take you home. It's not safe to be out now."
Amani agreed. They were still on an active search for her and the dogs' commotion would not keep the soldiers distracted for long. Muhsin kneeled down in front of her, sliding her foot a few inches out of her sandal so he could tie its front firmly in place so she could walk the remainder of the way home.
"Is that better?" He looked up at her.
She nodded and Muhsin rose. "Yalla, let's go this way. Stay behind me," he turned around to lead them toward the main road. Amani followed every footprint his shoes imprinted on the soil. They remained silent because the only way to reach her street was to walk through the same street the soldiers might be roaming. Amani couldn't remember a time more frightening than now.
They moved quickly down the main road and the tension in her muscles began falling away once they stepped into her street. It was nearly gone when Muhsin halted beside her. She turned to see the rifle pressed into his back just as a voice spoke.
"Stop," the soldier said.
Amani's heart felt as though it had raced away and left her body to weakly keep itself alive. Muhsin didn't look afraid when he felt the barrel of the weapon, his closed eyes and tense jaw only held disappointment. The soldier behind him was alone.
Slowly, Muhsin turned to face him.
The rifle pointed into his chest, right where his heart beat.
"Muhsin Awad," the man snorted in amusement. His Arabic was butchered and interlaced with a thick accent. "We came for the girl but I've found you instead. This itself is much better, though. I am surprised to see you out at such a late hour."
Amani almost took a step forward but Muhsin held his hand out beside him, blocking the path she'd attempted to take. The soldier turned to her. "What is this? The girl is also here. Convenient. Two for the cost of one."
"Lower your gun," Amani said.
"I do not take orders from people like you."
"Go home," Muhsin spoke shortly. Were it not for his softened tone, she would have mistaken the direction of his words.
The soldier shook his head. "She's coming, too."
Muhsin held his gaze, his eyes shooting daggers at the man in front of her. "Amani," his words contrasted the strong hate in his expression. "Go home."
"What?" She breathed in question.
The soldier began. "I told you-."
"And I told you to go home," Muhsin's tone sharpened with a demand that Amani knew he did not want to be questioned. "Turn around and go. Now."
Amani took a step back and the soldier's pointed weapon slipped toward her. Muhsin seized its barrel, forcing it back against his chest. "What about you?" She took another step back.
"I'll call you."
The soldier smirked. "No, you will not."
Going against every instinct within her screaming to stay beside him, Amani turned and raced away from the two. He'd told her to listen to him when danger was near. That he could not worry about anybody else becoming a victim. He'd begged her to do as he would tell her ever since that day in the bakery.
And Amani had agreed.
She didn't realize how hard it would be until now.
But, still, she'd done as he asked her to do. With every step she took farther from the soldier and the man holding the weapon's direction toward his heart so it would not follow her, Amani prayed that the decision she was making was the right one.
It was.
It had to be.
Tomorrow, she would go down into the street and Muhsin would be standing outside the bakery, packaging bread for the same little boy who visited him every morning. Then she would tell him that her family was coming to visit because she'd forgotten to today. Amani wondered if he would be nervous. She would have to wait to see how his expression changed at the news.
She'd learned to read Muhsin now.
Or he'd finally allowed her to read him.
Amani's aunt was awake for the prayer when she stepped into the house, slowly closing the door behind her. "Amani," she frowned. "Did I not tell you not to stay out so late? It's not safe for a-."
In the distance echoed a loud crack that silenced her aunt.
Amani gasped.
Bang.
_____________
Guys, guys, guys, listen, wait.
I was going to upload bulk today BUT there are just some chapters that HAVE to be stand-alone, you know? And this chapter, with the ending that it has, fits that category so please forgive me but this upload will not be by bulk.
I do promise that I'll do my best to upload again before this Friday inshALLAH!!!!
xoxo