Forbidden Love (18 page)

“When? What day?”

“Well, the coroner will move her body there once the hospital has completed the autopsy. The earliest it could be is the day after

tomorrow.” \020”The hospital should know, shouldn’t they? I have to know,

I 7)

I have to be there. She can’t be buried alone, please, I have to find out. Can I call the hospital?”

“Sweetheart, even if you call the hospital and find out, I don’t think your father will allow you to go.”

“He has to. Please, Mum, I have to be there. Please, you have to help me, I’m begging you.”

“Yes, yes, all right. Just calm down. Go ahead and call the hospital. I’ll let you go, but we must be careful that your father doesn’t find out.”

“I know. Thank you. And please understand, I don’t want to do what I’m about to do behind your back, so I’m going to tell you. I have to call Jehan, Michael’s sister. Michael is the Catholic man. I have to let her know that Mahmood may be on his way there.”

“Oh, Norma, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I don’t want you to get involved in this any further. What if your father finds out?”

“Mahmood has already killed Dalia and I won’t sit by and watch him kill Michael too. They didn’t do anything, and you’ll see that I’m telling you the truth once the autopsy results are out. Would you rather I stay quiet and let them kill him? He’s the same age as Amjed. How would you feel if something like this happened to him and he was killed for nothing?”

“OK, I’ll let you make this one call, but that’s it. Warn him and that’s it. Do you hear me? If your father ever finds out about this, we’re both dead. Don’t you dare speak to him on the phone, only his sister, and lose that number after today,” she commanded.

“Thank you. Thank you. You’ve helped me save an innocent man’s life.”

First I called the hospital to get the update I needed, and that I knew Michael would want.

“Palestine Hospital, how may I direct your call?” The receptionist’s high-pitched, nasal voice jangled, abrasive, into my brain. I wasn’t sure whether my sensitivity was due to lack of sleep and an overdose of coffee, or just a normal response to an irritating voice. I held the earpiece away from my head as I spoke into the mouthpiece.

“I need some information, please. My sister is in your hospital. She passed away yesterday morning, and my family and I were wondering when the hospital would complete the post mortem and release the body.”

“Well, miss, you’ll have to speak to the morgue. Hold on a moment while I transfer you. I’m sorry for your loss. One moment,” she said routinely.

I heard a few clicking sounds, and a man’s voice.

“Morgue, how can I help you?”

“My sister died yesterday, and she’s there now. I was wondering… We’re waiting for a post mortem examination to be completed. When will that be done and when will the hospital release the body for burial?” I asked.

“Oh yes, I remember her. Hold on a minute, let me check… she’s your sister, you said?”

“Yes, yes, my sister.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, hold on a minute. OK, here it is. Let’s see, we were told the body would go directly to the cemetery in Rajib after the autopsy, which is scheduled for tomorrow. It looks like we’ll be taking her the following day as it’ll be too late to take her after the post mortem.”

“Do you know what time of day you’ll be transporting her?”

“I think she’ll be at the cemetery around nine in the morning. I really am sorry for your loss, miss. My condolences.”

“Yes, thank you. Thank you so much, you’ve been very helpful.”

I sat staring at the phone after hanging up.

“Well, what did they say?” my mother asked, breaking my trance.

“They said that she’ll be at the cemetery in Rajib the day after tomorrow. So that’s… wait, what day is it today, it’s

“It’s Thursday.”

“So Saturday at nine. I have to be there, Mum. I have to find a way to be there.”

“Well, you can worry about that later. If you want to make that other call, you’d better do it quickly.”

I watched my mother out of the corner of my eye as I reached for the phone. I wondered what she’d experienced to make her so understanding now. I knew that this wonderful woman had spent her life doing her best to portray an image of happiness, yet I wondered if she’d ever felt genuine joy. I tried to picture my mother at my age and decided that at some point she must have entertained the same hopes I did. I wondered if she’d suffered a loss like mine. Surely she’d had a life before becoming a wife and mother, though she never shared many details of it. It was as if parts of that existence had vanished, and others were filed away in the secret compartments of her memory. As a child, I’d spent countless hours watching her, trying to translate my mother’s private expressions. Yet I remained baffled.

I realized that I was as close to my mother as she’d ever allow anyone to be. She maintained an emotional distance as a form of self-preservation, it seemed, a barrier she built to protect her soul and perhaps any surviving shred of the unique and independent person who had been suppressed at the age of ten-from the harshness of reality. I wondered what kind of pain she had endured to make her build her fortress, and I ached at the thought of her suffering, as I knew she was aching

as she watched mine. I felt sure it must have been pain that bound her and constrained her life. I wondered whether the grief I was feeling now would force me to do the same.

“You’d better hurry and make that call,” she said again, her voice bringing me back from my thoughts. Seconds later, I had Jehan on the phone. “Norma? Hold on a second.” Her muffled voice called out, “It’s for me, Mum. Can you please do me a favour and get the notebooks I left on the desk in my room?” There was a pause, then, “Norma? Sorry, I had to get her out of here. My God, Michael told me what happened. I can’t believe it! It’s so terrible, so unbelievable. I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?” “Not so great. How’s Michael?”

“Not good. He’s still in his room; he didn’t even want to get up this

morning. This has really hit him hard, he loved her so much.” \020”I know he did, so did I, but Jehan, you have to get him out of there. Dalia’s father knows where you live. He could be on his way to your house now. You have to get Michael out of there. Especially if your father’s not home.”

“My dad’s gone. He leaves before seven. I’ll do my best to get Michael out of here.”

“Please, do whatever you have to. Tell your mother, call your father, I don’t care. If you don’t get him out of there you could lose a brother, and I’ll lose another friend to Mahmood’s insanity. And Jehan, tell him to stay at the base for the next three days or so.” He’d been obviously too distraught yesterday to care about safety and had ignored my previous urgings.

“I will, I promise. I love him so much and I don’t want anything to happen to him. Have you heard anything else?”

“All I know is that she’ll be taken to the cemetery in Rajib on Saturday morning. The bastard isn’t even going to give her

a service and, according to her mother, none of her family is allowed to go. I’m determined to go, but I’m worried that her father will show up. Don’t tell Michael about the funeral yet, at least not until I figure out a safe way to be there, I’ll be in touch. I have to hang up now. Take care of Michael, Jehan. He’s going to need your help. He loves you and I know he’ll listen to you. I’ll call you if I find out anything else.”

“Take care of yourself too. Be careful. Thanks for calling. Goodbye.”

I hung up the phone and lit another cigarette before turning to face my mother.

“I didn’t hear you tell her about Dalia. How does she know that Dalia’s been killed? Did you call them before?” she asked.

“Yes, I did. I wanted to be the one to tell Michael about Dalia and I had to warn him of the danger.”

“But how? From where? When?”

“Last night from the salon.”

“Does Amjed know about this?”

“No, he was in the car. Don’t worry, I was careful.”

“Norma, this is a dangerous game you’re playing. I don’t think you should contact him again. You’ve done all you can, he’s been told and warned, now you must walk away.”

“I can’t back away, not now, not until this is over. I can’t talk about it any more. I really need to go and lie down for a while, I feel as if I’m about to pass out.”

“Try to get some rest and I’ll wake you when your father comes home.”

“Could you wake me up at three? I have to be ready to leave with Dad. He’s going to take me to apologize to Mahmood today.”

“Well then, at least eat something. Remember, you have to control yourself over there.”

“I’m not hungry. My stomach feels as if it’s turning summersaults. I just need some rest, that’s all.”

“You didn’t eat yesterday either… just let me make you a—.”

“No, Mum, but thanks. Thanks for all your help, and for understanding. I love you.” I embraced her and turned to leave.

“I love you too,” she said. “Don’t ever forget that. You’re my precious, my only daughter. I’m just so worried about you.” She tried to look stern. “By the way, we’ll be discussing your smoking when this is all over.”

“I know, believe me I know. Thanks for waiting,” I shot back as I left

the room. \020I lay on my bed, but there was no escape. My mind and body felt like battered casualties of war. I was too exhausted to think clearly, and would have welcomed amnesia. But I had to remain focused on what I had to do.

A little while later, my mother roused me, I dressed quickly and followed her downstairs to find my father in the living room.

“I finished early, so we’ll go to Mahmood’s now. Let’s go,” he ordered.

In a few minutes we were walking up to Dalia’s door and her mother, eyes still swollen and red, was escorting us into the living room. My father busied himself making all the formal greetings, shaking hands, and kissing everyone on the cheek. I just walked in and planted myself on a seat in the corner. I sat in a daze, my eyes refusing to blink. I kept expecting Dalia to walk in and begin her greetings, as she had for twenty years. Then I heard my father’s voice as if it came from an echo chamber, and my name,

“Norma, Norma, don’t you have something you’d like to say to Mahmood and his family?” I remained still.

“Norma…” he repeated.

“Yes, yes I do,” I heard myself say. My voice sounded alien. I looked around the room and saw that everyone was staring at me. I caught sight of Dalia’s mother and her eyes begged me to tread cautiously. Mahmood, the object of my loathing, was sitting on the couch across from my chair, his beloved hunting trophies above him the stuffed birds and small animals on the all staring at me. I sensed that Mahmood wanted me to make a mistake and say something that would jeopardize my life. I could feel the anger he still felt towards Dalia now directed at me. His stared ignited a spark of fear that risked overtaking the emotions I was trying so desperately to control. I shut my eyes tightly, running through the speech in my mind.

“Well, Norma, we’re waiting. What do you have to say?” my father broke in, commanding me to speak.

“Yes … I … Yes, I have something to say regarding my behaviour yesterday. I was truly shocked and very hurt. Regardless of the fact that I couldn’t and wouldn’t, and probably never will, believe that Dalia deserved such a fate, I had no right to disrespect you or your family, and I apologize. I didn’t mean in any way to doubt your decision or judgement.” I paused and looked at Mahmood before continuing on to more dangerous ground.

“And I suppose I owe you an apology for loving your daughter like a sister, and finding her loss unbearable and your apathy over her loss infuriating. If so, I apologize for being human. I’m afraid that our God has created me with a very low threshold for pain and I lost control. I envy your strength, Mahmood, for upholding your family’s honour. After all, what is a life in the face of honour? I suppose that because I’m not a man, I can’t comprehend such apathy, such disregard for human life. I’m sure you must be right. I mean, what can a woman know or understand about a man’s honour? After all it’s a man’s place to control and maintain the code we must live by. And I suppose Dalia, in your eyes and in your mind, stepped outside the boundaries. You had the strength to do what needed to be done and there’s no room for emotion in honour.”

I was stunned by the strength and clarity I had managed to find. It seemed to be coming from somewhere beyond me. As if Dalia was squeezing my arm, urging me on. I was nearly done.

“So you see, I truly envy your indifference, because I’d love to be free of the crippling pain I feel. I’d love to be able to say that I feel nothing, but I’d be lying. The truth is that my world was shattered the moment you took her life, but I know that’s my problem. Again, I apologize because, regardless of the fact that you tore my heart from my chest, I didn’t have the right to disrespect you or your family in your home. The simple truth remains that she was your daughter before she became my friend, and who am I to defy your wishes? I’m nothing more than a grieving friend and I ask for your forgiveness

for my loss of control.” \020Everyone sat silently for what seemed like an eternity, each with a baffled look on his of her face. Dalia’s mother was the only one who shared in the tears I couldn’t hold back when I’d finished. Mahmood was clearly trying to assess my words and decide whether I’d made an adequate apology or a series of criticisms with a mock apologetic tone. My father was the first to break the silence.

“Well, as you can see, she’s truly sorry and I can assure you that she had nothing to do with Dalia’s betrayals.” I knew that my father was in a difficult position, since the purpose of this visit was to show that he had control over me. He

had no choice but to insist that he did, or he’d look a fool.

“Yes, well, that was quite an apology,” commented Mahmood.

“It’s obvious that she’s still mourning the sudden loss,” replied my father.

“In light of that fact, I’ll forgive her for her actions yesterday and I hope that our families can remain close.”

As soon as I heard these words, I jumped into the conversation before my father had a chance to say anything else. Mahmood’s words enraged me. How dared he suggest that our families remain close? I wasn’t authorized to respond as a representative of my family, but I could speak for myself and I would be damned if I would ever say a word to this murderer after today.