Chapter Four
I poured the last of the heated milk into Eijaz's favourite mug, a lime green one with the words 'home sweet home' written on it in white letters, and stirred the tea. It was a Saturday so he was off for the next two days, back to his stressed-filled life on Monday. Although, he might argue that weekends are quite tiresome too with all the arguments he has with Mum trying to defend me.
As I exited the kitchen with his mug in my hand, I made a mental note of rinsing out the milk carton and chucking it away in the recycling bin, anticipating a complaint if I didn't. I entered the living room to the backs of Mum and Eijaz sat beside each other on the three-seat sofa that faced the television on the wall. Eijaz had his head resting on Mum's shoulder as she had one hand her stroking his hair and the other holding her tea mug. Earlier, when I had made tea for Mum, I had returned to the kitchen to clear up only to hear footsteps coming downstairs so I thought to make tea for Eijaz too.
"I had to wait two hours after I should have finished work for a client to send me the information because that's what they told me they'd get it to me by. I waited an extra hour after even that and they didn't even get back to me," Eijaz moaned, talking about work.
"My poor baby, it's okay, just rest today; don't think about work." Mum moved on to stroke his cheek.
I cringed from behind them, disliking how Mum always babied him.
"Assalumu alaikum," I spoke, moving around the sofa and standing next to Eijaz. "Your tea"
"Waalaikum assalam," they both replied in unison, although Mum had already returned my salam when I had first seen her this morning.
Eijaz's tired face looked up at me and gave me a grateful smile.
"JazakAllah khairan," he said, ever so quietly.
"Wa Antum Fa JazakAllahu khairan. Let me go get you some biscuits."
I glanced over at Mum's tea mug to see that there was still some tea in there, otherwise I would have taken it back to the kitchen with me.
Returning to the kitchen, I rinsed out the milk carton and went outside to throw it away into the recycling bin. Back in the kitchen, I pulled out the box that contained the digestive biscuits and went to the living room, placing the box on the glass coffee table in front of Eijaz.
"What took you so long? My son is getting hungry." Mum frowned at me as I took a seat on the one-seat sofa, which was adjacent to the one they sat on, closer to Eijaz's side. Her tone was aggressive.
"Uh, sorry, I had to go throw the milk carton away," I replied.
"it's okay, Mum," Eijaz commented.
I froze on my seat, scared that any movement at all would trigger her. Could she not give me a break for once? I watched her lean forward and place her empty mug on the table. She turned to the television, which was just background noise up until then.
After a couple of more minutes, Mum sighed.
"I guess I have to do everything," she grumbled.
She reached out for her mug and made to get up, forcing Eijaz to lift his head away from her shoulder. I knew she wasn't really going to get up. Eijaz turned to me, begging with his eyes, for me to take the mug back to the kitchen instead.
Usually, he would help me around the house but with his mother around, he was bound to the culture of his upbringing in the hopes to prevent the complaints that all too often spewed out of her mouth.
I, silently, stood up and took the mug from her hand, heading towards the kitchen. I placed the mug in the sink and stood there, my hands in fists, resting on either side of the sink. I wanted to scream but instead dug my nails into my palm; her behaviour never failed to frustrate me. I should have remained calm but in the heat of the moment, when I couldn't let it all out, my nails relieved my emotional pain through physical pain.
"Astagfirullah (I seek forgiveness in Allah)," I muttered to myself once I realised what I was doing.
I drank some water and when that didn't reduce my irritation, I knew I needed to get out of the house for a little while to get some air. If all else failed, the fresh air always worked.
I peeked into the living room, barely walking in.
"I'm going out to get some milk," I informed, using that as an excuse.
They both turned around, Mum not looking too pleased.
"No, I'll get it in a bit. If you give me fifteen minutes, I'll go get it," Eijas interjected, sleep still evident on his face.
"it's okay. You rest, I'll be quick. I want to use it now."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah." I added a smile to convince him.
With that, I got ready; I picked out another plain, black abaya as the other one was well overdue for a wash, wore the first hijab I pulled out that happened to be navy blue and put on my niqab over that. Thankfully this abaya had pockets so I placed my phone, money and keys into them. All the while, my frustrated refused to dissipate. I made my way downstairs and double checked the cupboards and fridge in the kitchen to see if there was anything else that we needed.
"Assalamu alaikum," I called out by the front door, before exiting the house.
I decided to buy the milk on the way back home; right that minute, I just needed some space so I kept walking without a destination. I stuffed my hands into my pockets. I went straight, left, then right and straight, going the way my legs took me, not really paying attention. I couldn't get my head around why Mum always acted like that; I couldn't figure out what exactly I had done wrong. I played the scenario over in my head, my frustration turning into fury. Why did Eijaz wait until I responded to defuse the situation?
Without realising, I found myself in my local park and took time out of my thoughts to admire the greenery and dotted colours of flowers. As I passed a bush of peach flowers and I took a hand out of my pocket to smell one, I heard the sound of something dropping at the same time but I dismissed it, deeming it wasn't anything to do with me. I continued walking, taking note of my surroundings, now heading towards the café, which was on the road opposite to the to the exit of the park. As I focused more on the surroundings around me, I found myself slowly calming down. I made my way into the small café that housed about four tables with and a counter with all the baked goods, unreachable due to the glass covering it. Beside the bakery section, there was a worker behind a till and a machine to make all the drinks next to her behind the counter. There was no one else in the café other than the two of us.
"Hey, Liz," I greeted, making my way towards the worker.
"Hafeezah!" She squealed, moving around the counter to give me a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages!"
Under normal circumstances, Elizabeth wouldn't have embraced me like that but since there was no one else around, it wouldn't really matter. When we parted from the hug, she moved her golden, brown hair out of her face, revealing her green eyes. She was a good few inches taller than me and her work uniform hugged her body.
"I know! I haven't been out much, lately. This is probably the first time in three and a half weeks," I explained.
"You look drained out, girl. I can see it in your eyes and that hug was weak from your side! I know you don't drink coffee but do you want to make an exception this time?" She asked, going back behind the counter again.
"Is that your way of saying I look horrible? I don't even know how you can tell when all you can see are my eyes," I laughed, jokingly.
"I've known you for years now, even before you started wearing that face veil, so I kinda think I should be able to tell by now." She brushed it off.
Couple of years back, a school friend of mine worked at the café part time so I spent a lot of my free time there. Once she moved away for university, I continued to visit the café even after I lost contact with her so I was familiar with all the staff there.
I shrugged. "And no to the coffee, thank you. The usual, please."
"A berry cooler coming right up," she winked before getting to work. "I'll come sit with you in a bit and we can catch up since no one is here. I have so much to update you on."
I nodded, paid for the drink and took a seat by the table closest to the exit, staring out of the window. I found that all the negative emotions within me were gone when Elizabeth greeted me in her usual bubbly way. The bell to the door opening rang but I didn't pay much heed to that until something was placed on the table in front of me.
"Hey, you dropped your phone before," someone said to me, their voice not exactly stable. She sounded upset.
Before I could look at her, she had already turned around and was almost out of the door. I recognised the clothes she was wearing and realised it was the girl who was sat on the bench besides the bush of flowers I stopped to smell but as she was irrelevant earlier, I didn't really notice much beyond her outfit. She was in all black; black, long sleeve top and black jeans so there wasn't much to take notice of at the time. She was like a blur in my vision when I walked through the park. I looked down at the phone in front of me and it looked like mine so I searched my pockets, completely oblivious to it missing and discovered that my phone wasn't there. I unlocked to screen to find that it was, in fact, mine.
"Excuse me," I called out, hoping to thank her but she was already out of the door.
"Liz, I'll be right back." I placed my phone into my pocket and followed the girl who returned my phone out.
She was already too far gone, having entered the park. I quickened my pace, worried that she'd disappear before I could say anything. Another reason that I followed her was that from the way her voice shook, she didn't seem okay and it didn't sit well with me if I didn't check to see if she was okay. I've been in plenty of positions where I wasn't fine and no one bothered to check on me; I don't want anyone to ever feel the way I did.
I headed straight to the bench that I saw her sat on earlier and luckily found her sat there. She had one knee up on the bench, her arms wrapped around it and her forehead resting on top. As I got closer, I could hear her muttering to herself. Her long, brown hair covered up most of her face.
"Ya Allah, please help him. Ya Allah, please grant him complete shifa. Ya Allah, please keep me strong." One after another, she was making supplication.
I was taken aback at first, not expecting someone like that to make supplication.
"Astagfirullah," I mumbled to myself repeatedly for judging her on her appearance. I was glad I reacted before she saw me.
"Assalamu alaikum," I greeted, once I plucked up the courage to go up to her.
She glanced up at me as I stood in front her, her eyes red from tears. She wiped her snot on the sleeve of her black top. I wasn't sure how to proceed because I didn't expect her to actually be crying.
"Waalaikum assalam," she replied through heavy gasps.
"Err...I just wanted to say JazakAllahu khairan for returning my phone. I didn't even realise I dropped it," I began, unsure of what to say.
"Wa iyyaki. It's okay. I know, I did call after you but you didn't hear me. Don't worry about it." She forced a smile and I could tell that she was waiting for me to go away.
"Erm, I know it's none of my business but you don't look okay so I just want to make sure, you know, that you were okay," I rambled on, not making much sense.
"I'm okay." She brushed it off, wiping her eyes with her sleeves too.
"I mean, you don't look it," I probed.
"Really, I'm okay."
I was stuck here; I didn't want to leave without making sure she was actually going to be okay but at the same time I didn't want to annoy her.
"Oh, okay." I was about to walk away, then stopped. "You know the best thing about telling a stranger is that you don't have to worry about anyone you know finding out because you'll probably never see them again." I took a deep breath after that, not breathing for the whole sentence due to nerves.
She just gazed at me for the longest time, making me feel uncomfortable. Just when I was about the leave, thinking she wouldn't speak, she opened up.
"My brother is in the hospital," she blurted out.
I took a seat on the bench next to her and hesitantly, rubbed her back. When she didn't shrug me away, I continued with it.
"It'll be okay." I wasn't great at situations like this so my words weren't exactly helpful
"I know everything will be okay. Allah doesn't burden a soul beyond it can bear but I just need to let this out."
All of a sudden she slumped backward so her back rested against the bench and her eyes focused on the clear sky.
"You must be close to your brother," I commented, observing her reaction.
She looked at me as if I had a second head growing out of my shoulder.
"Have you read Surah Yusuf? That's my favourite Surah"
This was the second time I was taken aback, not expecting a question like that from her. I, internally, scolded myself for thinking she was any less knowledgeable than I was just because of her appearance, when she was proving me otherwise. Honestly, I have read the Surah but not with translation so I wasn't sure what it meant. I kept silent and it appeared the question was rhetorical.
"My family are like that of Prophet Yusuf's, but my father is not so much like Prophet Ya'qub. That's why I like the Surah so much; I can relate to it." She was speaking up to the sky, as if she wasn't exactly talking to me. She gasped, as if just realising I was there. "I have to go. I shouldn't have backbitten like that."
I wasn't given a chance to respond before she ran off. I knew I wouldn't have been able to catch up to her so I let her go, praying that I'd meet her again one day. Her attitude towards her situation piqued my interest; where she ran towards Allah when in need, my default was to run away. On my way back to the café, I kept thinking about our conversation and made a mental note to read up on Surah Yusuf at some point.
~~~
A/N
I wrote this on 3 hours sleep, without any food for hours so my brain is a mush. Please let me know if it doesn't make sense and if there are any mistakes. I'm planning to edit this when my brain is fully functioning again.
So, although, this chapter was uneventful, it's a gateway to her contemplating her own thought processes; how one small encounter, which seems so trivial, will become such an important turning point.
Please let me know what you think.
Also, I wanted to dedicate this chapter to Ambersarah27 even though she doesn't read my book but I just wanted to mention her because I am totally obsessed with her book and think everyone should read it. Pretty please!