Glass Collector (22 page)

“What hospital?” Aaron leaps to his feet as if possessed by demons. “Which one?” he shouts.

“Um …” Abe racks his brains for the name. “She got in there for free because that hospital doctor was here at the clinic when it happened. It’s the one near the American University.”

“The Eastern First National.” Jacob knows it well. “Lend me the pony and cart,” Aaron begs him.

“No, the pony can’t go out. Not again. Anyway, the hospital won’t let you in. Don’t be crazy,” Jacob says. “It’s too late.”

“Why do you want to go?” Abe’s confused and Aaron can’t answer.

It’s impossible to believe that Rachel’s in the hospital—dead maybe. All through the stupid wedding Rachel was in trouble and he didn’t know. How can he get there? Each breath he takes is an effort as pain floods his body.

He must see her.

Aaron turns to run but Jacob grabs his arm. Abe grabs the other arm as Aaron struggles and moans like a wild animal. Together they twist him to the wall and push him down.

“Tomorrow, first thing. We’ll go there. Whatever you want,” Jacob promises.

Every cell in Aaron’s body collapses as his mind soars through the city, skimming main roads, minarets, domes, shiny hotels to get to the hospital. At the same time he silently prays to Mary, the Queen of Heaven, to save Rachel. To keep her safe. To let him see her again. His fingers clasp the bottle of perfume in his pocket, while he swears that if she will let Rachel live, he’ll look after her forever.

“I’ll find out more for you,” Abe says, and scuttles off. Meanwhile, a whirl of emotions passes between Aaron and Jacob. Aaron’s ashamed to have revealed his true feelings for Rachel to his friend.

“She’ll be fine!” Jacob holds Aaron’s arm tight in case he decides to run.

A lonely glittering sky meets the dark, dusty earth as, one by one, the church lights are dimmed. Soon the priest and deacon emerge from behind the altar in their ordinary black robes to join the festivities and the silence of the night feels like something too hard to live through. Bruised and battered by the desperate longing to see Abe come back with a smile on his face, Aaron hovers between heaven and hell.

“She likes animals,” he mutters, as if Mary will save Rachel for that reason alone.

“Yeah, I know,” Jacob murmurs.

The distant throb of music tells them that Shareen’s wedding party has started.

Slowly, Jacob asks, “Want to wander over there, Aaron?”

“You go,” Aaron says, sighing.

“Nah, it’s all right.”

Jacob lets go of his arm at the very moment Abe’s footsteps come padding up the path. The second he appears, Aaron jumps from the wall and rushes to meet him, with Jacob close behind.

Abe waves his arms, gasping for breath. “She’s not dead. She’s not dead. Everyone said prayers for her.”

“Tell us!” Clutching Abe’s shoulders to shake the news from him, Aaron can barely wait.

“There was a Dr. Sameer visiting the clinic when the bike ran over her. He’s got his own charity to help poor people like us for free.” Abe pauses to nod and push hair from his wild eyes. “She was lucky he came immediately and got her to his hospital. She won’t have to pay, but her leg’s bad. They’re all saying God’s on her side.”

“Let’s go and see her now.” Aaron’s eager to leave.

“No way!” Jacob pulls a face. “There’s no point—they won’t let you in. I’m going to fill up at the party. Coming, Abe?”

“Yeah, course. Hey, Aaron, come on.” Abe tilts his head to tempt him. “There’s a stack of honey sweets. Fatima with the Filthy Mouth says Shareen’s been singing like a strangled crow. You missed seeing Lijah drunk, drowning his sorrows. Everyone knows the bike accident was his fault for fooling around. He’s gone home because Shovel Face is flirting with Youssa.”

Jacob frowns at Aaron’s crestfallen face. “When’s Rachel coming home?” he asks on his behalf.

“I dunno. They gave her morphine.” Abe’s enjoying his role as important messenger and adds, “She’s got to have an operation tomorrow. She might die then, you don’t know.” Jacob shoots him a look. “Well, you don’t know, Jacob. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Who says we track down Lijah and make him feel bad about Rachel?” Jacob says, hoping this will shake Aaron out of his stupor.

“I want to see her,” Aaron starts again. “I’ll go on my own.”

“Forget it. She’ll be asleep. And the hospital’s miles away.” Jacob slips his arm through his. “Don’t be stupid. Let’s get some food. We’ll go tomorrow.”

Aaron grabs his arm desperately. “We will? Honest?”

“Yes!” Jacob nods firmly, giving Aaron hope for the first time that things will turn out all right.

The three boys start walking toward the sound of the party. Deep down, Jacob thinks it would be better not to go for a few days, until Rachel’s recovered from the operation, but Aaron is so desperate to visit her he had to say yes. Tomorrow he’ll try and make him see sense. The Eastern First National Hospital isn’t on their route and the detour through the center of town after working all morning will be a pain, but what else could he say?

A harsh, crunching drumbeat and sharp tooting noise drift from the music deck as they turn the last bend of the dark alley leading to the concrete shed where the festivities are taking place. The smell of koftas and roast chicken fills their noses as the tension of having to enter the room increases for Aaron. He gives a final shiver when he reaches the open door and sends a quick, simple prayer to the framed picture of Mary hanging from the wall.
Please make this all right and look after Rachel for me.

A few people look Aaron up and down like before, but most are so used to ignoring him they carry on chatting and eating as if he’s invisible. Abe scoots off to chat to a boy his age and Jacob hangs back to make sure Aaron’s OK.

Daniel marks the place in the center of the room where the groom is greeted by newcomers, who bow and nod as they pass on their congratulations. Surrounded by male cousins, Daniel looks as if his fight with the devil’s over and he’s won, while Shareen, who’s leaning on the wall next to her father, has lost her purpose and gazes at Aaron as if he’s changed into someone she’s never seen before.

Walking toward him with a demure smile, Shareen’s suddenly glad that Rachel’s out of the way, but angry that she’s stumbling slightly in these stupid silver slippers. If only the dress fit her better she’d feel more attractive, but it’s too late to worry about that now.

Aaron’s fills his plate with rice and chicken, then searches for a quiet corner to eat in. He turns around and bumps straight into Shareen, who’s looking at him oddly.

“OK?” he says, trying to get past her to join Jacob and Abe who are eating hungrily while leaning on the wall near the door, but Fatima with the Filthy Mouth steps in front of Shareen and bares her huge, wonky teeth, grinning to let him know she’s watching him. Her sudden curiosity in him stops Aaron in his tracks. Then Shareen pushes her out of the way.

“Aaron,” Shareen says, sighing. “I’m … married. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Aaron lifts the well-stacked plate over his head to shift past her and Fatima with the Filthy Mouth, but Shareen’s determined to stop him leaving.

“You didn’t congratulate me. You weren’t at the church. Aren’t you going to say something?”

“Um, good luck. Oh, and er … got any news on Rachel?” Aaron’s eager question results in a look of pure venom appearing on Shareen’s face. It’s her wedding party and he’s asking about Rachel? Fatima with the Filthy Mouth starts cackling her head off, which distracts Shareen from spitting out the nasty comment that was on the tip of her tongue and allows Aaron to get away without excusing himself.

Confused by her sudden interest in him, Aaron glances at Daniel and fears for the worst if he hears anything. It’s bad enough having Lijah on his back. He doesn’t want another enemy, especially for the reason that he can’t stand Shareen. She seems to think he’s forgiven her for reporting his stolen bottles to the priest and ruining his life. Well, she’ll soon learn the truth.

Gazing around the room while he leans against the door beside Jacob, Aaron swallows food as fast as possible so he can leave this awful party. His eyes land on Suzan, Lijah’s fiancée. It looks like she’s having a heartfelt chat with Youssa, who looks sober for once. From where Aaron’s standing, he can just hear Suzan lecturing him about booze. Youssa’s so ashamed he daren’t pick up the half-empty beer bottle that’s positioned safely between his bare feet. It’s no wonder Lijah went home angry. Suzan’s a nag and they’re not even married yet.

It’s the kind of party where the old people are smiling and talking nonstop, and the little kids are climbing under the table and pulling the grown-ups’ clothes. The teenagers are bored out of their skulls and would rather be watching TV, talking about football or, better still, crowded round Sami’s computer.

But it’s slightly better than the engagement party because there’s more food and no crazy pig running wild. Jacob soon brings them each a plastic glass overflowing with melon juice. Aaron drops the paper plate on the floor before reaching for the drink. The second Jacob nods at the door, suggesting they leave, the music blares out louder, battering the room. They step outside into the pure Mokattam night. Aaron gazes at the halo of smog hovering over the distant city lights and wonders if Rachel is asleep or awake.

Aaron doesn’t see the stacks of garbage as he carefully winds his way to the tenements, head down, eyes half closed and Jacob whistling behind him. The pungent smells drift over him while his mind forms a picture of a hospital bed with Rachel curled up in pain. The tube in her arm, which hangs from a blood bag on a metal stand, is like one of many he’s touched while out with Jacob this morning. He can see the rich red color trickling down it. Tomorrow there’ll be more blood bags and, when he feels the leathery plastic between his fingers, he’ll think of her.

“What is love anyway?” Aaron asks before he can stop himself.

But Jacob doesn’t tease him. Instead, whistling while he thinks, his friend suddenly stops and says, “It’s when you feel sick inside and you can’t think straight because you’ve turned into a snake.”

“A snake?” Aaron’s baffled. “Why a snake?”

“Snakes get stuck in mud and can’t get out. Like people in love. Yeah.” Jacob’s pleased with his answer. “You’ve had it then.”

“Stuck in mud? That’s stupid, Jacob.” He decides to change the topic. “What happened to the spray paint?”

“You don’t think I’ve forgotten, do you?” Jacob looks smug all of a sudden. “Follow me!”

Drunk on the effects of the still, bright night, food, and melon juice, he darts into the side alley where Daniel lives.

Jacob longs to make a name for himself as something more than Noha’s son who’s a medical-waster. He’s not good-looking like Aaron or sweet like Abe. The only gift he has is not being seen at night when he sprays messages around the village. He started off small, doing small ankhs and scarabs, but now he sprays words and sometimes whole sentences.

Dark and gloomy, the concrete hovels resemble entrances to underground caves where visitors have urinated on the rubbish. Quick as a flash, Jacob reaches for a plastic bag that’s closest to Daniel’s tiny home. Behind it is a small can of red paint he hid earlier. He waves it in the air and a cloud of flies swarm to sniff the silver can. Jacob laughs when Aaron starts head-butting them.

“Ready?”

Jacob strains to see Aaron’s face as they creep up Daniel’s stairs but it’s too dark. Two seconds later, they peer through the shadows at the thin mattress on the floor, which is covered by a striped sheet with a red, folded blanket at the end and, side by side, two blue embroidered pillows. Someone has sprinkled lotus petals on the pillows and the smell is sickly sweet. There’s a church-sized candle on the floor and a print of the Ten Commandments stuck to the wall. A deathly quiet adds to the atmosphere of disbelief as they imagine Daniel and Shareen lying there together.

Aaron starts to feel restless. It doesn’t seem right, standing here and thinking what he’s thinking.

“Hurry up,” he hisses.

Wondering what message to leave, Jacob hesitates for a second before flipping the lid from the spray can and misting the air with a burst of red paint. He moves quickly, holding the can tight, his skinny body leaping after the letters he paints across the floor. In the silence, the spraying sounds like whispering—until Aaron groans.

“You can’t write that!”

“Why not?” Jacob pauses to admire his work. LOVE IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL.

“Where did you get that from?” Aaron’s never heard such a stupid thing.

“I overheard Habi talking to his friend last week.”

Jacob’s anxious to get out of here before the so-called happy couple return. Without another word they sneak into the night. Jacob slips the paint can back into its hiding place until he needs it again.

It’s late. Rachel’s almond eyes flash through Aaron’s mind. A large cloud covers the murky moon as they make their way through the darkness and Aaron comes to the conclusion that Jacob’s never been in love. This feeling inside—this bewildering, overpowering warmth that rises up whenever he thinks of Rachel—is so normal to him now that he wonders how he ever lived without it.

Wearing the same threadbare clothes as yesterday, Aaron twists on the wooden board of the cart to find a comfortable spot to sit as they wend their way through the traffic on the main highway. Already this morning, they’ve cleared two hospitals of waste, and the drifting smell of disinfectant and warm plastic mixed with car fumes is getting to him. Then there are the flies that keep buzzing around his face.

Every day for the last week, Jacob has patiently forced the pony to go another three miles across the city to the hospital where Rachel is. Every day, he’s tied the pony to the thorn tree beside the entrance to the car park so that Aaron can jump off and race inside. Every day, within five minutes, Aaron returns, having been refused permission to get in the lift or climb the stairs to the wards by the woman on the reception desk. Every day, Aaron insists on trying again, even though Jacob’s running out of patience.