Chapter 16

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12 years later (present day)

  

    I made it. I have the house I have always wanted, the job I’ve always dreamed of, and the girl I have always wanted to call my wife. So what’s wrong? I’m not living the life I wished for myself; no, I never wished to live a depressed and isolated life.

    All this money I got now, it symbolizes a ticking bomb waiting to blow. The house I’m living in right now – my house -, it just resembles a prison to my wife and I. We’ve also got a small frame, with a picture inside it, which is displayed right next to our door; that picture fuels me with anger and sorrow every time I see it. However it’s not all bad, I still have Dalia with me, but we’re racing through a short tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel, I can only see papers; divorce papers I suppose.

    I’m walking in our huge garden, making my way to the entrance of the house. I wipe the sweat off my forehead, and keep my eyes on the ground, so the sun wouldn’t hurt them so much. I open the door, and like always, I look at the man in the picture by the door, and then slam my fist onto the table. I have always kept his picture by the door because he used to resemble hope and happiness to me, but now, I use him as a reminder of how I let everything fall apart.

    I drag my feet to the sofa, with my head still down, but this time it’s brought down by shame and fear, not by the flaming sun. I lie on the sofa, reach for a cigarette, and light it up.

    “Stop it.” Dalia demands through her teeth. 

    I ignore her, look at the picture by the door, and start recalling the past, to remind myself of why I’m doing what I am doing now. The man in that picture told me to love and take care of my wife, and that’s what I am doing right now.

  “He would still be here if it weren’t for you.” She whispers coldly.

    That is the first time she ever accuses me for his murder. My wet eyes widen because of her words, and I rise slowly to meet her eyes, “What?”

    She turns around to face the picture, “If you have stopped him from ever entering that house, he would probably still be with us right now!” She stops, turns to face me again and stare at the cigarette between my fingers, “If you never hung out with these… murderers and never started smoking, none of this would have happened!” She shouts.

    I sigh and move closer to her, “I’m sorry for what they have done to your brother, and I hope he’s in a better place now. I am also sorry for smoking, but that’s the only way I know how to deal with the stress I’m under.”

    “Then tell me!” She begins to scream, “What’s wrong? Why have you been limiting the places I could go to for the past three months and why are you making me feel imprisoned in this house? Why are you always depressed? What made you go back to smoking? Why aren’t you telling me anything and why-” She stops and begins to cry.

    I move towards her and wrap my arms around her, “Dalia, I’m sorry, but I am only doing this to protect you.”

    She looks up to meet my sight, and the moment I looked into her sad eyes, I feel my heart tear in half, “What happened to you? What happened to the boy-, no, what happened to the man I fell in love with that night on the bridge?” She pushes me away, slips the cigarette away from my fingers and goes upstairs to our room, leaving me standing alone shattered and even more destroyed.

    I sit on the nearest chair to me, cover my face with my hands, and relax my elbows on my lap. I start remembering that night she just mentioned, the night on the bridge.

    We were both at our beach houses. Dalia texted me, and told me to meet her by the bridge because she needed to talk to me about college. The weather was a little chilly, the waves were moving in a lovely rhythm and the stars were shinning brightly, lighting up the dark sky. We moved side by side, talking about how different and hard it will be far away from home, our family, and away from each other.

    “I’m worried that we’ll all go to college, go our separate ways, find new friends, and then when we come back here after four years or so, everyone will forget about the other.” Dalia whispered over the light wind.

    “That won’t happen.” I assured her.

    “How can I know that you won’t come back with some other girl and new friends?”

     I laughed, “Why? Would that make you jealous?” I tease. 

    “I’m serious.”

    “First of all, we’re just friends, remember? Second,” I stop walking and she turns around to listen to my words, “I promise you when I go to college, I won’t look at any girl the way I look at you and I won’t talk to any girl the way I talk to you.”

    “Promise?”

    I grin, “Yes, and I promise as soon as I get my book published and make enough money for the both of us, I’ll be knocking on your door, asking your dad for you to be my wife.”

    When I finished my sentence, I saw my favorite view; her breathtaking and mesmerizing smile.

    I rise from my chair, and head upstairs to Dalia. I can’t handle this anymore; I have to tell her what’s going on. I know that it will frighten her, but I can’t continue hurting her like that, I need to see that smile on her face again. I walk into the bedroom, and find my wife lying in bed crying into a pillow. I force my trembling legs to move over the soft white carpet, and sit by her side.

    “Dalia, you know I love you, right?” I whisper.

    She forces herself to stop crying, sits up, moves her knees towards her chest and wraps her arms around her knees, “Mm…” is all I get from her, but I’m still able to hear the soreness in her throat because of the crying.

    “Firas… He got out of prison four months ago, and he threatened to-” I stop, because I find it hard to say the following words.

    “Haman?”

     I walk about the room, thinking of the words I will choose, “He said that if I don’t support him financially and give him what he asks for, he’ll take you away from me.”

    “But he can’t do that.” She whispers after a moment of dead silence.

    “It’s not him I am worried about. He said that he doesn’t care if he gets beaten or sent to jail again; all he wants is revenge for getting sent to jail.”

    “But he deserved it!” She yells.

    I move close to her, “He wasn’t directly involved in the murder.” I remind her. “He said if I try to do anything like getting some help, or something, there would be other people who will…” I think of less terrifying words, but can’t find any better words, “There would be other people who will avenge for him.”

    “So that man you just opened the door to and gave him money an hour ago was Firas?” She asks, and I can hear the fear in her voice.

    I nod, and she begins to sob. I hold her tight and whisper, “Dalia, he won’t touch you as long as you stay close to me, I won’t let anyone harm you. Everything will be fine, I promise I will figure a way out of this mess.” I only wish I know how to fix everything, I think.

Chapter 15

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  I shuffled awkwardly into the house, trying not to make eye contact with Noor, but I still felt her confused and mad eyes at me. Before we walked any further into the house, we were asked to take off our shoes, and when I walked into the living room I understood why. It was a wide living room with a beautiful, soft, frieze patterned carpet, which covered almost the entire room. Centering the carpet was a short, glass table with a vase on top of it. Two white sofas, with chocolate-brown pillows, formed an L shape on the sides of the table, and on one of the sofas was a middle-aged man sitting, with a soft grin on his face. I was finally able to see his gentle, and hazel eyes; the same eye color as his niece, Noor.

    “Uncle Omar, this is Abdulrahman.” Noor greeted me to her uncle.

    Omar rose easily from the sofa, and shook my hand with a strong grip, “I know who he is, everyone heard about his story and how he lost his memory.”

    “So you know how he lost his memory?” Abdullah asked immediately.

    Omar started laughing, “Well, I heard multiples of stories and rumors, so I can’t really say I know how he lost his memory.”

    Abdullah’s face went a bit pale, “Excuse me, I need use the restroom.” He mumbled, and left us.

    Omar sat on one of the sofas and asked me to sit on the one next to it so I could face him. Noor sat on the same sofa her uncle was sitting on, but she was sat far away on the other side of it.

    “How are you now, did you gain your memory back?” Omar started.

    I chuckled, “I’m the one who supposed to be here to check up on you, but I think I got most of back now.”

    “Yeah how did you even know about my uncle?” Noor snapped.

    “It’s a long story.” I replied as Abdullah walked back and sat by my side.

    “I’m sorry I kept Noor away from visiting you, but she was always worried about me and refused to leave my side since my wife had to stay with my twin daughters in college.”

    I stared at Noor, not understanding why she didn’t tell me about this. I also felt guilty because I misjudged. I guess Adam was right when he said I should have looked deeper into things and asked her more about herself instead of just getting angry with her.

    “Why didn’t tell me?” I looked at her.

    “I tried to at first,” she stopped to calm herself down when she noticed the other people around her, and then continued, “but you didn’t give me the chance, and if you look at the messages I sent you, you’ll see that I explained everything in them.”

    “Why did you let me believe you were always upset-” I stopped for a second remembering her uncle’s presence, because I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to bring Adam’s name, “Umm…”

    She cut me off quick, “I’m sorry, could you excuse us for a moment.” Noor said embarrassed.

    I followed her out of the living room, “So?” I asked.

    “You seriously wanted us to have this conversation in front of them?” She whispered angrily.

    I shook my head, “ I meant so why did you always make it seem like you were upset because of Adam?”

    She turned around to check if there was anyone listening, “What good would it do if I talked to you about it?”

    “We won’t be having this argument right now.”

    “I’m serious.”

    “First, you know that you can trust me. And it’s good to tell the people you trust about your problems to ease off the pressure and sadness you’re under.” I took a moment to remember that night when I saw her helpless uncle coughing out blood on the empty road, “Besides, I could have visited him from day one to keep him company and happy; to make both of you happy.”       

    She smiled, “Let’s go back, I don’t want to get asked a lot of questions later.”

    We stayed for about fifteen minutes with Noor and her uncle and then Abdullah told me that he has to leave. I walked to Omar, and thanked him for having me, when I was shaking his hand, he pulled me closer and whispered into my ear, “The past will soon catch up to you and you’ll remember an important part of your life, but don’t let that frighten you, okay?” He let me go, and I looked into his hazel eyes, trying to make sense of what he said.

    “What do you mean?” I asked puzzled.

    “Abdullrahman, lets go.” Abdullah yelled from the car. I looked at Omar for an answer, but all I received was a wink from him.

   

    We sat inside the moving car quietly for a while; I used that chance to go into one of my deep thoughts as I stared at the sinking sun. What was Omar talking about? Did he by any chance see me that night when he scratched Abdullah’s car? But he was too sick, and was too busy coughing blood to notice me. Did he know something about my past that I don’t know or cant remember? Then again, how could that even be possible, I just met him today. He said it was an important part, if it was that important, why didn’t he just tell me what it is? How did he even know I’m going to remember it anyway? Unless if he wasn’t the one who knows that important part of my life.

    “Abdullah!” I whispered to myself.

    “Yeah?”

    I got nervous and my face went warm; he wasn’t supposed to hear that and I didn’t know what to say.

    Abdullah waited for me to speak, but when I didn’t say anything he decided to ask me a question instead, “Haman,” Abdullah said then cleared his throat, “you umm,” He stopped to take a deep breath, “You never asked me where I was heading to that night.”

    I looked at him, but his eyes were too focused on the road to look at my confused eyes, “Why are you bringing this up now?”

    “You know that I changed that night because of you and Omar, right?” He asked, and ignored my question.

    “Yeah.” I murmured.

    The car started to slow down, and he stopped it just a few blocks away from my house so he could look at me. His eyes were so wide and focused on mine that I was able to see the reflection of my frightened face.

    “Abdullah, what are you talking about, and why did you stop?” My eyes never left his, but my hand started to search for the door handle so I could race out of the car.

   His eyes shot at my escaping hand. “Abdulrahman, you’ll need to hear this.”

    I waited. The following sentence that came out of his mouth, changed his life and mine, and due to the actions he’ll take after what he said, his life will take a much scarier and extremer path than mine, “Abdullah, what is it?”

    He sighed, “I think I know who almost killed you and made you lose your memory.”

  

Chapter 14

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    The next morning I jumped on the sound of my phone blasting into my ears. I slid the arrow on the screen, thinking that it was my alarm, but when I put my head back on my pillow, I heard a sound coming from my phone. I put my phone against my ear, and heard someone call my name; it was Adam.

    I rubbed my eyes, to check if I was dreaming, but I wasn't, “Hey." I yawned.

    “What did you say to Noor?” He jumped straight into the topic, that was the first time I ever find him being impolite.

    “Wow, so she told you I asked her to stop texting me?”

    “She also told me how you think she only became your friend out of guilt. You know, even if that was true, did you ever think about how nice she has been treating you?”

    My uncles' words from last night echoed in my head, but I shook them away and continued with my argument, “I'm the one who has been nice to her, because she is the one who has been nagging about missing you. She didn't even visit me much when I was at the hospital, all because she misses her boyfriend!” I shouted.

    “That wasn't the reason why she wasn't visiting you. And whenever you have seen her sad, it wasn't because I'm away or because I was leaving. If you look deep enough into things – or just ask her what really wrong -, you'll realize how shallow your judgments are.” Then he hung up the phone, without saying a word after it.

    I got so mad at him for saying that I was wrong to be mad and for closing the phone like that. How could he say that I am the one who doesn't care about the other? She is the one who obviously only became my friend out of guilt; she didn't even deny it when I comforted her. She is the one who kept frowning at our faces. Besides, what did he even mean by “ if you look deep enough into things, you'll realize how shallow your judgments are.”?

    I look at the time, 11:30. After I washed up, prayed and grabbed a light breakfast, I decided to let my sister drop me off at the mall, where I decided to meet up with Talal. I was hoping that spending time with him might let me forget about this unreasonable fight I'm having with Noor.

    When I met up with Talal, we decided to walk around a little then watched a movie. After the movie, Talal excused himself to go to the bathroom. I stood by myself looking at the almost empty movie theatre entrance. My eyes gazed at one of the theatres for a while then crawled a little towards the popcorn machine and then sled towards a familiar face; towards Dalia's face.

    I moved forward, thought about talking to her, but then I remembered our conversation on the plane, so I stopped in my place. I didn't know what to do, I wanted to talk to her so bad, but I didn't know what her response would be if I did. What if I pass in front of her, she might start a conversation? That probably won't happen. I thought hard for a plan that would allow me to talk to her. My eyes were stuck at her, as my mind went to a different place, picturing different scenarios of the two of us talking the way we did last time. I got it!

    I walked towards the prettiest girl on the planet, getting more nervous with every step, and my heart beating harder and harder like a drum, which made breathing more difficult after every second. I took a deep breath when I was just a few feet away from her, and marched up to her, “Hey,” Dalia didn’t say a word, she looked stunned because of how I approached her so casually, “Excuse me, but do you know where I could find a good place that sells ice cream?” I asked, as if I didn’t know her.

    Her reaction didn’t change, and she didn’t answer me.

    At that moment a tall guy, who looked to be in his twenties came up to me. He had the same features as Dalia, so I assumed he was her brother. He seemed a bit mad and confused, but then his face expression changed, as he analyzed my face for a moment, “I know you.” He whispered.

    “Sorry, I can’t remember you. I had an incident and lost my memory.”

    He looked stunned, as if he figured out some life changing mystery, but then he continued with what he has been saying earlier, “You were that boy who was hiding behind the store the night the old man scratched my car last year.” He mumbled.

    “Abdullah, what are you saying?” Dalia interrupted.

    Just when I was about to excuse myself I remembered.

    FLASHBACK

   

On my way, I saw the men who were yelling earlier. I hid behind the closed shop they were next to, and observed what was going on. There was a young man, about twenty years old. He had dark, long hair that went right under his shoulders along with dark green eyes, the colour of a maple leaf. He was wearing a light blue shirt, with dark jeans. The other guy looked like he was in his mid-forties. He had grey, thin hair. I couldn't really make out his eye color, because of the glasses he was wearing. 

  "Just pay me the money for this scratch, so I can move on with my life already!" The younger man shouted.

  "I've already told you, I need this money to get my medications, and I need to get them now!" The older man said coughing.

  The dark haired guy swore under his breath, then shouted, "Alright if you really are saying the truth, what the hell do you need to get? What's wrong with you!"

   The older man coughed a little, and murmured, "I need to-" he started coughing again, and then soon he was on his knees coughing out blood. I just froze there, staring. The dark haired guy helped the other guy up, and started looking around with his startled eyes for help. When he didn't see anyone around he clamoured, "Don't worry I'll get you to the hospital!" He helped the man into the car, and drove away.

    “No wait, I think I remember. But I made sure you didn’t see me that night.”

    Dalia looked astonished, “You knew my brother?”

    Abdullah ignored her, and explained to me, “I saw you in my cars’ side mirror when I was about to drive off to the hospital. I want to thank you, because when I saw you, for some reason I realized that change could happen in matter of seconds. Maybe it was because seeing a young, and innocent boy.” He shook his head, “you just resembled a green light for me to start a fresh page.”

    “What happened to the man?” I asked without really thinking about it.

    He smiled, “He's been alright. He spent a week at the hospital since that day, but he’s fine, and I’ve been visiting him every week.”

    “I’m sorry, but would it be okay for me to come visit him with you one day?”

    “Sure.” He grinned.

    I exchanged phone numbers with him, took one quick glance at Dalia when they turned and went back to Talal, who has been eyeing me from a distance.

    “Who was that?” He asked.

    “He’s just some old friend.” I answered.”

    “And the girl?”

    “His sister I think.”

    “That’s all you’re going to tell me about these two?”

    I laughed, “Yep, sorry.”

    The next day, I got a call from Abdullah. He told me to that he was going to visit the man, and that I should be ready at 4:00. I told my dad that he was a friend of mine from school, but graduated a year ago. He didn’t seem to be suspicious or anything, he just asked me for his full name and number.

    Abdullah asked me a few questions about myself, to know me a bit better, and know about my background, and I did the same with him. When the car finally stopped, we approached a decent looking house; not too big or small, fresh colored wall, with multiples of windows, that welcome the sunlight in.

    Abdullah rang the doorbell, and we waited for someone to open the door. I stood behind Abdullah, admiring the trees that hung over the walls of the house. A minute later, someone finally opened the door.

    “Hi, Noor, is it okay if I come for your uncle. By the way, I brought a friend with me this time.”

    “Oh, any friend of yours-” She stopped when I walked from behind Abdullah to see her. It wasn’t any Noor; she was my ‘friend’ Noor, “is a friend of mine.” She continued with her sentence, but this time with a less cheerful voice. 

Chapter 13

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    When the airplane landed, I hurried off of my seat, so I’d be able to get to the exit and to my family as soon as possible. I shuffled my way across the airplane aisle, trying my best not to let anyway cut in front of me. I had to stop when a lady managed to dash in front of me to get her bag from the cabin above.

     When she open the cabin, her bag fell straight out because she opened it so quickly, but luckily I managed to raise my hands fast enough to stop it from banging her head. When she looked up, I finally got a glimpse of her face; it was Dalia’s mother. I gently brought the bag down to her side waiting for a response. She looked at me with a nasty look, which possibly meant that she was still angry about what happened earlier with her daughter. But when she realized that I just saved her a trip to the hospital, she thanked me shyly and started moving away as soon as she got the chance to do so. When I looked above her head, I saw two girls staring at me. One of them was my sister, impressed by my ‘heroic moment’, and the other girl was Dalia, giving me a thankful smile. The moment I caught a glimpse of that breath-taking grin of hers, I felt my whole body warm up, and my heart started galloping, pumping the blood through out my body, causing my face to go red. I tried making my way through the aisle faster, hoping that somehow I’d be able to see her one last time before I lose her in the crown leaving the airplane, but the people were moving to slow, that when I finally got out of the plane she was nowhere in sight.

    I moved forward to look for my sister and father. It took me about two minutes to find them, so when we were united again, I tried making us move fast, hoping that I will see Dalia if we do. However, I only caught a glimpse of her back when she got her luggage and was leaving along side her mother.

    When we finally got our luggage, ten minutes after Dalia got hers, we made our way out, and were greeted by my uncle, Ebrahim, who took us to grab tikka for dinner and then headed home. Of course, since he’s my dad’s younger brother, we were used to having him around and didn’t have to act all polite, and were able to walk around and eat comfortably without any awkwardness. An hour after dinner, my sister was already upstairs asleep, while my dad, uncle and I watched a movie in the living room. A few minutes into the movie, uncle Ebrahim excused himself to go smoke outside, but my dad was too caught up in the movie to realize his brother’s absence.

    As I relaxed on the couch, I couldn’t help but think, what’s the thrill in smoking? Why did I smoke before, and why is my uncle still smoking?

    I started arguing with myself on whether or not to go and at least just see how my uncle is enjoying the cigarette, or maybe get a secondhand smoke and see if I still get that soothing feeling from it. Why shouldn’t I? I stopped before so if I didn’t like it now I could just stop again, right? Besides, if my uncle has been smoking for about six years now, and seems to be perfectly happy, then cigarettes shouldn’t be as bad as people portray them.

    I got off the couch and walked up to the house door. I didn’t go out immediate, but instead, I watched my uncle through the window. When I saw him, he looked at peace, he seemed like he got all his thoughts straight and was just relaxed. I started to think of an excuse that would allow me to go out and sit with him, since I don’t remember ever sitting next to him while he was smoking. I couldn’t think of anything so I decided to just go and improvise.

    “Hey.” I started, awkwardly.

    “Haman, why are you here, is everything okay?” He asked immediately. I took a sniff through my nose, allowing the bad air to come in. I took another deep breath through my nostrils, as if I tasted the smoke. I felt a kind of need to have a cigarette, but I couldn’t make out if that ‘need’ was because I was curious about the taste and feeling, or was it because I actually did want to smoke a cigarette for pleasure. As I was evaluating the feeling I was receiving from this secondhand smoke, my phone made a ‘ding’ sound, announcing that I have received a message. My uncle laughed, “You must be really popular, your phone has been ringing since we stepped foot into this house!”

    I took it out, to check whom it was from, and it was from Noor – again. I put my phone back into my pocket, ignoring whatever she sent me, “It’s nothing.” I said as I sat down besides him.

    He elbowed me lightly, “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

    It was true, he was always the first I cried to when I was a kid, and he always took my side no matter what. But since my mom died, I can’t remember spending much family time with our family, “It’s just that I had a fight with one of my friends before we left, and I am just not bothered to listen to whatever she has to say.” I mumbled.

    “So it’s a she?” He teased.

    I chuckled, “It’s not like that.”

    “Instead of asking you what happened let me ask you this; was she a good and loyal friend?”

    I sat thinking about it, remembering our times together, and how much fun I had with her, but my answer reflected opposite of my thoughts, “I can’t really say that.” I thought for a moment and continued, “I don’t really know why she is my friend, and it’s just that there is something about her that makes her seem a bit suspicious, you know?”

    “Hmm… Actually no, I don’t know what you’re talking about exactly, may you elaborate?” He asked playfully, but this time it didn’t flip my frown.

    “Well, when we became friends, she was always nice to me, but then I found out something that just made everything seem like she only became my friend because of guilt.”

    He waited before he asked his following question, to allow me to think of my own answer, “Does she make you happy, and care for you?”

    “Yes.” I answered right away.

    “Did you read any of what she sent you?”

    I shook my head.

    He took one last puff, threw the cigarette onto the ground and squished it like a bug, “Get your phone out, and just read out the last thing she sent to you.”

    I hesitated a little; my eyes were still on the torn and burned paper on the ground. I got up and slipped my phone out of my pocket, and read out loud, “Abdulrahman, are you okay? Please reply as soon as possible; we miss you.”

    “That sounds like a friend to me.” He took a pause for a few seconds, “Haman, there comes a moment in everyone’s lives where we stop to think, who are the people that really care about us? Who are the people who will be in our lives ten or twenty years from now, and who are the ones who are in our lives just so we learn a few things from each other, and then move on with our lives.” He paused again, this time longer than before. I looked up to see what was wrong, and I saw a bit of pain in his eyes, “You didn’t ask me why I didn’t bring my wife with me tonight.”

    My head snapped up and I asked him, “Why? What happened?”

    “What happened was, me becoming an idiot. After three years of marriage, I thought that I no longer have to treat her in a special way. I started slacking off and becoming lazy, and somehow along the way, she thought that I no longer loved her the way I did. One thing led to another and we got into a fight, and now we don’t speak as much as we used to, or the way we used to speak with each other.”

    “You got a divorce?” The words just slipped out of my mouth.

    He laughed, “You have to give me some credit, I’m not that stupid! Anyway, the point is, when I saw you, your father and sister, I remembered how it feels like to have a family, and how it matters for the family to show that they care for one another. And then when I came out here, thought about our fight, I realized that she had the right to be mad at me because I stopped treating her like the princess she is. So what I am trying to tell you is that sometimes your decisions may feel right at the moment, but in the future, you will realize that you made the wrong decision, because that feeling that told you that you were right, cost you one of the most important things or people in your life.

    This friend of yours really cares about you, and I want you to think about the following, is this fight or whatever you two are having, really worth it? Are you sure you won’t wake up one day regretting your actions?”

    I thought twice and thrice about what he said. I unlocked my phone and texted her back without reading any of what she sent me, and wrote, “Stop texting me, Noor.”

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