When Noah said he knew a place 'literally round the corner' he may have exaggerated a bit. 'Abu Tamer's' modest kebab hut was probably a fifteen, almost twenty minute walk from our apartment building, located several streets and corners away and secluded in a quiet part of the suburb.
All the while as we walked, and still there was no sign of the hut, Noah would try to reassure me by saying things like 'we're almost there' or 'it's down this street, you'll like it, it's really good...authentic.' Not having much of an option, I would just nod my head and continue walking, hoping that we'd reach this place sooner than later.
Honestly, I wasn't expecting Abu Tamer's place to be as 'authentic' as Noah suggested. It was the most brightly lit store in the street, with coloured flashing bulbs glowing along the edge of the outside veranda and the kebab shop sign handing down low with large gold and red text hand painted in English and Arabic. As we approached it, the distinguishable sound of Arabian music hummed out into the street and slowly filled my ears with the loud tabla beats and rattling maracas.
As we stepped through the sliced plastic curtains covering the entry, the smell of seasoned meat, sauces, and grease waft through the air around me and make my mouth water in anticipation. The hut is smaller on the inside than what appears outside, but it's a comfortable size. The laminate floors seem to shine from the white fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There are only three, white plastic circular tables at the front of the hut, each with four plastic chairs tucked beneath them.
Behind the tables, is a small counter with an old looking cash register decorated with a number of a fruit stickers peeled off of apples, oranges and mandarins. To the side is a glass casing of different fillings stashed in metal dishes and put on display, below a menu plastered on the wall at the top. Coming from behind the counter, I can hear the sound of ruff voices speaking loudly and quickly.
"Amu!" Noah's voice echoes through the empty 'diner' part of the hut , but it works to get the attention of one of the men from the kitchen.
I glance towards Noah, as he rests an arm of the top of the display case. He brushes his hair slightly away from his face and gives me a smile. "Amu?" I ask.
"He taught me it," He nods his head in the direction of a short and rounded man approaching us. He's wearing a black polo shirt with a striped apron that has 'Abu Taher's kebab shop' embroidered on it. "It means uncle."
I want to tell him that I know what it means, but I don't because 'Amu' speaks first.
"Noah!" He practically bellows in the cheeriest tone his rough voice can pull off. I glance at Noah and notice his smile growing wider. "It's been a long time, my boy. I thought you forgot about us."
"Nah," Noah replies, "I went to Adelaide, and been keeping busy with Uni." His fingers tap on the top of the display case as he speaks.
"Yeah, yeah, Uni's tough, but you stick to it huh." His change in tone is quick; sounding like a warning parent. "It's tough now but you will work good later." I smile at his words, vividly reminded of Baba and his attitude towards my learning.
"Salam." I shift my gaze surprisingly at the salutation, from the menu to 'Amu'.
"Hi." I reply as I play with my bag straps.
"I've never seen you before, you live here?" He rubs his hands together and then pats his apron.
"She came with me." Noah perks up as he places both arms on the display case and leans his weight against it.
"Oh, you're friends with Noah here?" Not sure what so say, I nod my head meekly. I don't know if we are friends or not, but I'm pretty sure, going to get something to eat isn't something neighbours do. "Yeah, Noah's a good boy- any friend of Noah, is friend of mine." He pats his chest as he beams at Noah. Noah just shakes his head as he looks up at the menu. "I'm Saleem, but everyone calls me Amu."
"Hana, nice to meet you." I nod my head with a smile that seems glued to my face. Saleem's cheeriness seems contagious as he continues to beam and shift his weight enthusiastically from one foot to the other.
"What do you want to get?" Noah asks as he looks back at me.
"Um," I haven't really looked properly at the menu. From where I stand, I can only see the blown up stock pictures of food, and have to squint to read the small black print on the wall above. Feeling both Noah's and Saleem's eyes on me, I take a step forward and try to find something on the list that I'd like.
"Why don't you try our special today huh?" Saleem suggests, as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. "We give a platter with beautiful saffron rice mixed with nuts and sultanas. And with it, slow cooked lamb, that is-" He stops as he kisses the tips of his fingers and blows it out in appreciation of his food. "Perfect." He continues. "And it also comes with Tabula salad and a side of hummus and a small bottle of any drink you like."
I nod my head slowly and purse my lips as I try to take in all he's just said. The food sounds delicious and in a way reminds me of the food at Jido's house. On the rare occasion that Baba and I go there together for dinner, Teta always makes the best food. I swallow the saliva that has accumulated in my mouth, as I begin.
"What was it again?" I bite my bottom lip unsurely as I hear Noah chuckle beside me.
"We'll have what I normally get." Noah says as Saleem presses a few buttons on the register. "Wait," He turns to me, "You eat meat right?"
"Yeah." I smile and nod as I face Saleem. I swing my bag around, hanging on one arm as I unzip the bag and pull out my purse. "How much is it?"
"I've got it." Noah says. "It's my treat."
"No, I can get my own it's fine." Turning to Saleem, I repeat my question.
"Six dollar fifty." As I place my five dollar note and loose change on the counter top, I see Saleem glance at Noah then back to me.
"Thanks." He takes my money and places in the till, the coins cluttering with the others already in there.
"No worries." I zip up my purse and place it back in my bag.
"Cough up boy." Saleem chuckles as he gives Noah a not so threatening glare. "You think you can eat for free here all the time?" This time Noah laughs as he digs a ten dollar note from his pocket and hands it to Saleem. "I should keep the change for all the free things I give you." At this I laugh and glance at Noah.
"Go ahead." He motions with his hand for Saleem to do so as he shakes his head.
"Do you want the receipt?" Saleem asks.
"Nah." Noah shakes his head as he pushes off from the display case and heads to a plastic seat.
"Won't be long." Saleem calls as I follow Noah and take a rickety seat opposite him. He places his bag on the seat beside him while I place mine on the floor by my feet. Noah slumps into the plastic chair and tilts his head back, letting his hair fall back. I sit straight and pull at the end of my scarf to tighten it slightly.
"So what is it that you ordered?" I drag my fingers sideways on the scratched plastic surface of the table as I watch Noah sit up.
"Yiros with coke." I nod my head a couple of times in approval. "So what do you think of the place?" He gestures with his hands around the place, though keeping his eyes on me.
"It's," There are a number of ways I'd like to describe the place, but nothing that wouldn't involve me being too personal and rambling on about Teta's cooking. "Unique." Is what I go with and earn a raised brow from Noah.
"Unique?" I nod as I drop my hand in my lap.
"So much for it being 'round the corner'." I bring my hands up to symbolise quotation marks.
"I said that?" He mocks confusion as a grin spreads itself across his lips, pushing them to the far side of his cheeks. I shake my head as my back caves and recline back into the plastic chair.
"Do you come here often?" I'm giving it my best go to actually keep the conversation going as we sit and wait.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Saleem seems to know you well."
"He's got a way with people, he knows how to talk, and keep you talking."
"Yeah, he seems like it." I bite the inside of my cheek as I hear a clutter coming from inside the kitchen and then Saleem's voice yelling, though I can't make out what he's saying over the music. "So how'd you find this place?"
"I was walking around and came across it."
"You're into cultural cuisine then?" Noah doesn't answer straight away. But chooses to rest his arms on the table and lean forward on them.
"You ask a lot of questions." His words seem harsh, but the smile on his face and the humour that resonates from his tongue, lessens that impact on myself. My eyebrows cave into a partial frown before I straighten them up and shut my mouth.
"I was trying to hold a conversation." Unlike Noah, my tone is somewhat sour and holds no humour in it. He leans away from the table and back in the seat. Instantly I feel apologetic and wishing I could have at least rephrased my words.
"It was more like an interview." He doesn't seem offended as he brushes his hair from his forehead. I don't say anything, worried that if I speak I'll say something stupid and uncalled for. "Can I ask you something?" I nod my head. "What happened to your dog?"
This time I don't try to hide the frown that forms from confusion. "Albi?"
"Mhm." I smile, my mood changing at the thought of the dog.
"He's not my pet, he's my mum's."
"So he's back in Adelaide?" Pursing my lips, I nod my head.
Neither of us says anything for a while as we sit. Noah's back to slumping in his seat and drumming his fingers along with the tabla in the background, while I play footsies with my backpack. With my head down, I can feel Noah staring at me.
"Where are you from?" He speaks as he leans forward against the table again. I lift my head up and stare back in confusion.
I'm from nowhere really. I'm half and half and don't fit in with either bloodline. In a way, I'm an outcast, a hybrid that isn't considered one thing or another. I look different, I act different, I think different and I believe different. And because I am, I'm not either. I can't be, because that's not how it works. Nobody wants to accept a half-blood, especially given my families circumstances. I'm not nothing, but I'm yet to find the something that I am. I don't tell this to Noah though. To him I just say, "I'm and Arab Australian."
"What?" He chuckles as he looks as me incredulously. "I'm guessing that you're half and half."
"Baba-" I stop and start again, "My dad's Egyptian and mum's Aussie." Noah nods.
"Do you speak Arabic."
"A little bit, from what Baba taught me."
"Cool."
"You speak bits of it too." I comment and I nod towards him.
"Yeah, Amu's taught me words here and there."
"So you're into languages too?"
"I like learning about different cultures." He pauses as he smiles again. "You're interviewing me again."
"Sorry." I say as I go back to playing with the end of my scarf. Noah must have noticed, because he asks.
"So you're Muslim?" His tone is subtle, but unlike before it doesn't hold any hint of humour.
"It's a bit of a give-away isn't it?" I hold up the loosened of my scarf in hopes of restoring his humour filled voice.
He smiles, but he doesn't speak; not straight away at least.
"You're-" He stops as he stares down at the tables and drums his fingers for a bit. Uncertainty starts to fizz throughout my body as I drop the scarf and suddenly feel much warmer in the small hut. "You're not what I expected." Is what he goes with in the end, though he still doesn't look up.
"What?" While he's not looking at me, I stare intently at him. He seems reluctant at speaking freely. He seems to be overthinking his words, before speaking them, just like you would chew food you don't want to eat before swallowing. His reluctance has me on edge. My heart is slowly picking up its pace, taking faster and harder beats against my chest. For some reason, I feel offended. He hasn't said anything, but the fact that he's so hesitant to do so has me thinking anything he is going to say is going to be offensive. Frankly, I'm not sure I can take it.
"You're not what I thought Muslims would be like." Noah looks up at me for a second before glancing back down at the table. From the separate strands of his hair that fall over his head and hide is face, I can see him press his lips tightly together as if preventing more words from coming out.
Now, I admit I'm not a role model Muslim, and that I can be better, much better, but hearing someone else say it to me, someone I barely know, is offensive. I'm offended. My leg beside my bag twitches as a sudden urge to stand and leave consumes me. I want to leave, and I would have, if Saleem didn't come with our order.
"Here you go, Yiros and coke." He sets the first plate in front of me and the second in front of Noah. I muster up a smile and brief thank you, while Noah smiles widely and thanks him, as if he hadn't said anything to me before. "Enjoy." Saleem says to me as he wipes his hands on his apron.
"Thanks." My reply is curt and doesn't carry any of the cherry vibes shared between Saleem and Noah.
As Saleem walks away, he stops and turns on the spot, his shoes squeaking on the laminate floors. "Noah," He calls. "How're the books going?" Holding a Yiros up to his mouth, Noah finally looks up at me, before hurriedly turning away.
"Good."
"Tell me if you need anything else."
"Will do." Noah speaks through a mouthful of Yiros as Saleem walks away.
I untwist the cap on my bottle of coke, walking the yellow bubble fizz and ill up the empty space at the top. Against my fingers, the bottle is cool and slightly damp. The drink is tingly and refreshing against my tongue, though I can barely down more than a gulp at a time without screwing my face.
In the most recent back of my mind, I try to ignore Noah, and his brief comment, but it's not all that easy, when he's still trying to push for conversation.
"It's nicer when it's warm." He says as he places his food on the plate and untwists his coke lid. I don't reply as I pick at the shredded lettuce covered in mayonnaise and nibble on it. I glance up at Noah, as he tilts his head back and drinks. "I'm sorry about what I said."
"You don't need to apologise." Truth be told, he does, and I'm quite satisfied now.
"You're upset." He points out as I continue to pick at the lettuce. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't." You did and I am upset.
He leaves it there as he picks up his Yiros and eats. I do the same, earning a full-mouth beam from Noah.
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So this chapter turned out, longer than I expected, and it's not finished yet. This scene turned out longer in writing then in my head, so the next chapter will be a continuation of everything that's going on here. Also, I have used Arabic terms in this chapter, so if you don't understand, then let me know.
I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Let me know what you think, so vote and comment :)