Monday, 6:30pm
Harun dunks into the water and swims stealthily from one corner of the pool to the other. His muscles tighten as he pushes himself to hold his breath a little longer. He was supposed to hit the gym but settled for swimming instead. He prefers to float around the cool water and not think. Yes, the goal during swim sessions is to avoid thinking at all costs. Don't think, just feel, he mentally chants.
He leans at the edge of the pool and stares at the magnificent view in front of him. The palm trees coat the corners of the city and the buildings poke out from beneath the vast land. The sun set a little while ago, enveloping the city in a pinkish orange hue. It's breathtaking. Harun forget's all about his workload and responsibilities for the time being.
Don't think, just feel.
From the corner of his eye, he notices his mother taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs. "How long have you been here?" She asks.
"An hour, I think." He swims in her direction while keeping his head above water.
"Dinner is ready."
"What are we having?"
"Lasagna, your favorite."
"You mean Rashid's favorite." His mother gasps as he throws water at her.
"Harun! I just changed." He chuckles and does it again. "Harun!"
"What mom? Are you going to ground me?" She glares at him and mutters something in Arabic.
"What am I going to do with you?"
"You're going to feed me because you're the best mother in the entire world." She rolls her eyes. He gets out of the water and sits on the other wooden chair.
"Uncle Badr called today." Badr is his paternal uncle who lives in Toronto. He's divorced and childless. Harun tenses at the mention of him. Six months after his father died, Badr hinted at the idea of marrying his mother. Of course she politely declined his offer but Harun wasn't- as expected- so polite. In fact he nearly threatened to beat him up if he ever brought up the topic again.
"What did he want?"
"He spoke about you actually."
"Me?" He towels his head. "Why?"
"He said that there's a girl who might be a suitable partner for you-"
"Not this again." Harun stands abruptly. "Mom-"
"Harun please just listen."
"No! I already know what you're going to say. Meet her, get to know her and then maybe you'll change your mind." He says the last few words in a monotone voice.
"She's a sweet girl, Badr even said she's from Ramallah."
"Mom, I don't need to marry someone from back home."
"Of course not but I'm just saying this so you'll consider it." Harun lets out a harsh breath. It's always this subject that drives me up the wall. "I'm doing this because I care about you."
"I know you do but..." Words fail him. What do I say? What's my excuse this time? His mother frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. She gauges his expression and suddenly Harun is nervous. It's as though she's reading his mind. She doesn't know about Jamila yet so don't freak out. Relax.
"Okay fine." She nods and walks towards the house. What just happened? One minute she's talking to me and the next she's walking away like I didn't just reject another 'good' girl. That's weird. Normally a full blown discussion about the pros and cons of getting involved with this family would've been laid out on the table but today his mother doesn't push. Is this reverse psychology? If so, I think it's working.
—
Harun covers a yawn and scrolls down his phone to read the messages from the hospital director.
Home visits are approved but you can increase your charges. Let me know what you decide to do. Huh that was easier than I expected.
I want this consultation to be free of charge.
Why would you do that? Is this a relative of yours?
No but it's someone I know. Mr. Lee takes his time typing. Harun can feel the anxiety building up as he thinks about what could happen tomorrow.
I understand. The decision is yours. Goodnight.
Thanks. Goodnight.
Harun places his iPhone to charge and sits at his desk to recite the Quran. "Iqra al Quran." (Read the Quran) His father would tell him as a teenager while Harun would mentally scoff at the suggestion. "My father told me it solves all problems." Harun never met his grandfather but he certainly knew that the man would've been a tough and strong individual who relied on his faith for everything.
Harun didn't believe it until he tried it for himself. It's scary what death can do to people. It reminds you that your time is limited and builds an attitude of gratitude.
He thumbs through the old Mushaf (scripture) which ironically enough, belonged to his father and decides on Surah al Qasas, (Chapter of The Stories). The verses flow easily from his tongue and his heart captures every letter lovingly. Like barren land, his parched soul guzzles every bit of guidance it can attain.
The story of Musa (Moses, peace be upon him) is mentioned; the tyrannical pharaoh at that time, his mother's sacrifice by placing him in the river out of fear for his life, his upbringing and growth in the palace, his helping of the Israelite, the accidental murder, his fleeing from Egypt to Madyan, his meeting of two women beside a watering place, one of the woman's shyness and interest in him, his marriage and service to his father-in-law...
Harun completes the Surah and brings the Mushaf to his chest. He makes a silent supplication for his father. Oh God, protect my father. Make his grave big and spacious. Shower him with Your Mercy Ya Rabbi. He was a good man, he taught me everything I know. Forgive him. Give him and all of us Paradise.
—
"No! No! How could he die?! Rashid, this is a joke. It has to be."
"Babe sit down."
"No don't tell me to sit down. This is a tragedy! I hate this show."
"Then why in the world are you still watching it?!"
"Because I can't stop!" Hanna smacks him with a throw pillow. Harun passed by the living room to get a class of milk only to witness this entertaining discourse. The couple lounge on the couch with the smart TV presenting a series based on history. Apparently it's inspired by true events but Harun isn't sure. He enters the living room, glass in hand and raises an eyebrow at them.
"How is that my fault?" He groans and pulls her back onto the couch.
"Rashid I swear to God, I'm going to kill the director." She fumbles with the remote to rewind to the murder scene.
"That's a crime. I can't allow it."
"Oh shush!" She finally notices her brother-in-law and grins at him. "Oh Assalamu Alaykum, brother."
"Wa Alaykum Salam. You do realize it's like twelve fifteen, right?" He addresses the both of them and sits on the single arm chair beside the fire place.
"The night is young." Hanna says and leans into her husband. "Plus I don't have classes tomorrow, well today actually."
"Hmm, those were the days." Harun comments. Hanna reminds him of his sisters Ramlah and Hafsah. The both of them moved to New York with their husbands so he doesn't get to see them as often as he'd like. Five years ago they'd all sit on this same couch and laugh obnoxiously as they watched old CD's of them as children and listen to funny stories about their relatives from Palestine while their parents would bring trays of coffee and dates to enjoy as a family. I can relive those memories with a family of my own. One day.
Seeing his brother so in love makes him smile. I don't know what she sees in him but obviously they're perfect for each other. Hanna is bubbly and loud. At first Harun thought she spoke loud because she assumed people couldn't hear her but he realized soon enough that it was in her nature. Her blue scarf is draped tightly around her as she whispers to Rashid. Harun is suddenly self-conscious as the both of them stare at him.
"What?"
"You're smiling like a loser."
"I was just thinking about what Hanna sees in you." Rashid's jaw drops while his wife cackles at his expense.
"It's my good looks obviously." He counters.
"Then I'm with the wrong brother." Rashid glares at her while she continues laughing. "I'm with him for the money." She teases.
"Wonderful, do you mind asking for a nice car soon?" Harun adds to the banter.
"Sure, a Range Rover?"
"Beamer or better yet an Audi so he can leave mine alone."
"Can you stop talking about me like I'm not even here?" Rashid pokes his wife.
"I'm sorry do you hear something?" Hanna looks around the living room in an exaggerated manner. Rashid then starts to tickle her which Harun takes as his cue to leave. He bids them goodnight and heads upstairs.
For the first time, Harun feels... Alone.
Lonely.
He wants to share his life with someone but not just anyone. Not the girl uncle Badr considers good enough for him. Not the girl who speaks four languages. Not the girl who's on an honor roll. Not the girl who cooks the best food...
No.
I want the girl from the coffeeshop.
---
I know you do buddy.