Bitter Almonds (15 page)

Embarrassment. That was what she couldn't read on his face. He was ashamed for being young and healthy and not fighting alongside his cousins.

‘I know. You're like Shareef, an only son.' Nadia pointed to a curtain behind her. ‘You are needed here.'

Marwan placed his palms flat on the table, leaning forward. ‘Everything all right at home, Nadia?'

His face too close to hers, her cheeks flushed and she nodded hurriedly.

‘Your mother well? Anything I can do?' His tone sounded urgent and sincere. ‘Need anything?'

Something warm in his dark eyes made her reach out and touch the back of his hand. ‘When you ask about your cousins, will you try to find out about Omar too?'

Marwan straightened, pulling his hand back. He glanced at the group of men nearby. Raising his voice, he addressed the men, ‘I will ask about your relative at the military hospital for you.' He returned his eyes to
hers. ‘Please telephone my sister at home should your family need anything. You have our number?'

Nadia looked past him toward the crowd. The men, engrossed in war discussions, didn't seem to notice her interaction with him. ‘I believe Huda does.'

Marwan rolled up his sleeve, gave her a hint of a smile, and disappeared behind the curtain.

That night, Nadia crawled into bed after she had bathed and sprayed her pillow with perfume. She needed to get the hospital smell out of her nose. She and Huda had the room to themselves. Mama had taken the little girls to her bedroom, giving them peace and quiet after the long, emotionally draining day.

Closing her eyes, Nadia thought of Marwan. His enigmatic dark eyes. His rough tanned hand. His pride. His concern. She had waited for him to return with news of Omar, but the day had ended without seeing him again. Shareef had shown up in the afternoon, giving blood and barely acknowledging what she told him about Marwan's efforts to find Omar.

Hugging her pillow tight, she thought of Huda sleeping in her bed at the farthest side of the room. On their way home, Huda had grown silent, a distant and strange expression on her face. Accustomed to seeing blood, it couldn't have been the shock of tending to injured soldiers. Something else had driven her deep inside herself, making her appear vulnerable. A first, as long as Nadia could remember. She didn't know how to approach Huda, comfort her.

Nadia flipped onto her back. She looked toward the window. On nights like these, when sleep eluded her, she would stare at the moon and let her imagination take her to faraway places. But tonight, the windowpanes were painted dark blue. Shareef had followed instructions broadcast on the radio for safeguarding homes from possible aerial strikes. But he had done a poor job, missing the corners, allowing the
moonlight to filter through. She squinted to peek at the moon from one of the missed corners. The waning crescent was fading, despondent and sad. Everything around her was depressing, everyone dispirited and dejected. Even the moon had lost hope.

She concentrated on a darker shadow near the light fixture dangling from the ceiling. When Father passed away, Mama had told her younger sisters he watched over them from heaven. Was he watching over Omar too? Would he keep him safe? Bring him home?

Muffled hiccups drifted from the other side of the room. Nadia lifted her head. Sobs were coming from Huda's corner. Leaving her bed, Nadia walked barefoot to stand over Huda.

‘Are you all right?'

Huda lay on her side, facing the wall. She shook her head and tugged her blanket tighter around her shoulders.

‘Are you cold?' Nadia felt a chill travel down her spine, not related to the weather. Huda's crying became louder, clearer. Nadia lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped under it. She wrapped her arms around her sister. ‘I'm cold too.'

In the early hours of the morning, a loud boom propelled Nadia and Huda out of bed. Nadia clung to Huda in the brief deafening silence that followed. Every muscle in Nadia's body froze, including her lungs.

Slapping her across the face, Huda shouted, ‘Breathe!'

Sirens pierced the unnatural stillness. They ran out and joined the others in the hallway. Shareef held Sameera in his arms. Mama kept the little ones by her side.

‘What was it?' Mama hugged the girls closer. ‘Where did it strike?'

‘I think the Abu Rummaneh area,' Shareef said. ‘Possibly targeting the army headquarters.'

Mama sat on the floor, pulling the girls with her. ‘Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid.'

Banging on the door called for Shareef to leave the safety of the hallway. He returned a couple of seconds later. ‘The neighbor, Mr Rafid. Checking if we were fine.' He plopped down next to his wife.

‘What are you doing?' Huda barked.

‘What?' Shareef stared at her with his mouth open.

‘Get up!' She shoved his shoulder. ‘Go help Mr Rafid check on everyone. You're the only men in the building.'

Sameera held on to Shareef's arm. ‘We need him here.'

Mama rested her head back on the wall and closed her eyes. ‘Go, son. Let us pray no one is hurt from shattered windows or anything like that.'

Shareef headed out after getting dressed, his wife begging him all the while not to go.

The phone rang. Huda answered it. Dragging Nadia by the arm, she headed to the bedroom. ‘That was Um Waleed. Get dressed. Waleed is on his way to walk us back to his place. Fatimah is bleeding.'

Nadia ran to the bathroom with a bucket of soiled linen for the third time.

‘How's Fatimah doing?' Waleed followed her, right on her heels. ‘What's happening?'

‘I don't know.' She removed the soiled cloth rags into a bag, then dumped the contents of the bucket in the toilet. Red water spilled on her legs and the front of her dress. Frantic, she splashed clean water from the sink.

Waleed grabbed her by the elbows. ‘Is this my baby's blood?'

‘I don't know.' Tears and sweat dampened her face.

‘Is my baby dead?' His eyes bore into hers, cold and frightening.

‘I don't know,' she repeated, louder this time.

Waleed shook her. ‘Tell me something, damn it.'

‘I don't know anything!' she yelled. ‘All I see is blood, and they are too busy to tell me anything.' She shoved him aside. ‘I have to get back.'

Another loud explosion penetrated the air, knocking Nadia to the floor and throwing Waleed against the wall. He helped her to her feet and ran to the bedroom.

Um Waleed hurried to block him from coming closer to the bed. ‘Huda has the bleeding under control. We have to take Fatimah to the hospital.' Um Waleed held his arms. ‘There's nothing more Huda can do.'

‘Get her ready.' Panic laced Waleed's voice. ‘I will get a taxi.'

‘You're not going to find a taxi in this chaos,' Huda said over her shoulder. She sat at the edge of the bed, facing Fatimah and keeping her back to Waleed. ‘And no ambulance will get here in time. They're heading for the bombed sites.'

Nadia sloshed forward, the hem of her dress dripping water. ‘Marwan Barady has a car. I'm sure he will help.'

‘Yes, call him,' Huda urged. ‘His number is in the little brown book in my purse. Waleed, get more blankets. Um Waleed, get me a clean gown.'

 

21

Marwan drove as fast he could, maneuvering his way through streets full of disarray and confusion. Cars hurried in the direction of the bombed areas, columns of smoke making the mark. People bustled, calling out for children to return home.

Waleed ran toward the main doors of the hospital with Fatimah in his arms, his mother and Huda trying to match his steps.

Marwan touched Nadia's elbow. ‘She'll be fine.'

‘I should go in with them.' But Nadia didn't move her feet. Twisting her body sideways, she bent at the waist and retched by the back tire. After the convulsions subsided, she straightened, ran a hand over her hair. Most of her ponytail escaped the blue ribbon holding it.

‘Huda was wrong,' she heaved. ‘I can't handle it. Not the smell of blood. Not the sight of it.'

‘I'll take you home.' Marwan guided her into the passenger seat, his hands hovering over her shoulders, not making contact. ‘Your mother is probably worried sick.'

As soon as the car took off, an airplane crossed the sky in front of their eyes. Nadia doubled over, clasped her hands over the back of her head. ‘More bombs,' she shrieked.

Marwan stopped the car. Another jet roared by. He craned his neck out the window. ‘Those are our jetfighters. Chasing the Israeli pilot away.'

Nadia unlaced her fingers and lifted her head. ‘Ours? Are you sure?'

‘Certain.'

She straightened her back. ‘But they said on the radio we don't have any planes left.'

‘I guess some were spared. I saw one jetfighter in the air on my way over, and now those two.' Marwan draped one arm over the steering wheel. ‘Not that it will make any godda . . . any difference now.' He stared at the sky. ‘It's all over.'

‘Did you learn anything about Omar?'

‘Omar's regiment was sent to the battle front with the first wave.'

Nadia inhaled a sharp breath.

‘I will keep searching.'

‘And your cousins?'

‘Two are back already. They didn't get to do anything. The retreat happened before they made it to the front lines.' He started the car again. ‘Still trying to find the third one.'

‘I want Omar to come home.' Nadia's lower lip quivered.

‘He will.' Marwan breathed out his words, doubting he sounded reassuring.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I can't believe three armies lost the war in what? Six days?' Her blue ribbon came undone, fell to her shoulder and slipped between the two seats.

Marwan's eyes followed the escaping ribbon. He inserted two fingers in the small space, extracted the ribbon and tucked it in his shirt pocket. Roaming his eyes over Nadia, he worried about her disheveled appearance: her hair a big mess, her dress soiled and stained, her white shoes caked with what must have been dried blood. He killed the car engine.

Nadia opened her eyes. ‘Is it not safe to drive yet?'

‘Do you know if Shareef is home?'

‘No idea. He went to check on the neighbors before I left. He should be back by now, why?'

Marwan averted his eyes to the side. ‘I can't take you home.'

‘Something wrong?'

‘We should stop at my house first.'

Nadia jerked upright. ‘Just who do you think I am?'

‘My sisters will be there, I swear. I want them to come with us.'

‘Why?'

‘People shouldn't see you leaving my car without a chaperone. Shareef in particular.' Marwan dropped his gaze to his lap. ‘Sorry for being blunt, but I know how his mind works. I will not put you in a position where you would have to explain yourself to Shareef, or to anyone else.'

Nadia put her hand on the door handle. ‘I don't believe this. We're in the middle of a mess and that is where your mind goes.'

‘Shareef is the one who will think that, looking for an excuse to get in my face.'

‘I don't see why he would. You helped him with his marriage, didn't you?'

‘He doesn't see it that way.'

‘What do you mean?'

Marwan regretted his words the instant he uttered them, unsure of how much Nadia knew of his role in pushing Shareef to honor his obligation to Sameera. Help was not the right word. He did assist Omar in trapping and beating Shareef, if one wanted to be accurate. ‘No man likes to be indebted in such matters.'

‘I will never understand men.' She pushed open the door. ‘I'll walk home.'

‘That solves nothing. You think I would have you walk alone in this chaos?'

Nadia placed one foot on the ground.

He grabbed her wrist. ‘Listen. You don't have to go into my house. Stay in the car. I will have my sisters come out to you.'

She glared at him. ‘Let me go.'

Marwan withdrew his hand and placed it on his chest. ‘You don't know the kind of man I am. Omar asked me to watch out for you while he's gone, and that's what I intend to do.'

At the mention of Omar's name, Nadia paused. ‘Watch out for me?' She flung her hands in the air and burst out, ‘I'm not a child anymore.'

‘Precisely my point.' Marwan's voice shook. He took a deep breath. ‘On my honor. I'm thinking of your best interest.'

Hesitation seeped into her eyes. ‘How far is it to your house from here?'

‘Half an hour, but with this mayhem, it might take longer.'

‘I'm sitting in the back.'

Marwan parked the car at the opening of a narrow alley. He pointed down the way. ‘The car won't fit through here. My house is the second door to the right.' He left the car. ‘I'll be right back.'

A couple of minutes later, a tall girl carrying a large bag walked up the alley. She opened the passenger door and slipped inside, a gentle smile on her face. ‘Hello, Nadia. I'm Rihab. Remember me?'

‘Huda's friend.'

‘We met at Fatimah's wedding.' Rihab handed over the bag. ‘I brought you a wrap-around skirt. I hope it fits over your soiled dress.' She signaled with her hand toward the house. ‘Want me to get you slippers?'

‘Thank you, no need for slippers. This skirt is enough.' Nadia lifted her hands to her hair. ‘I could use a hair tie. I lost my ribbon on the street.'

Rihab dug in her purse and handed over a hair tie and a comb. ‘Hurry, Nadia. We have nosy neighbors.'

Nadia wrapped the skirt around her waist, braided her hair and did the best she could to put her looks in order. ‘I'm ready.'

Rihab honked the car horn twice. Marwan left the house, two girls ahead of him. The girls, younger than Nadia, introduced themselves before they joined her in the back. Marwan threw a quick glance toward Nadia and then started the car. Rihab tried to strike a conversation on
the way. Nadia remained quiet. She spent the time comparing Rihab's tranquil nature to Huda's abrasive one. Both women had the ability to take charge and solve problems, each in her unique way. What kind of woman was she turning out to be? A helpless one in need of someone like Marwan to watch over her? A pathetic weak woman?