The Girl from Baghdad (12 page)

Uday and I tried to overcome Dani's awkward departure by joking about it. Then the conversation became enjoyable. We spoke of our trips abroad, of foreign cities and of life in Baghdad.

I watched his confident hands playing with his empty glass. He was the most famous and sought after young man in the city and he was talking to me. I had to be careful not to get a big head about this, but I felt very flattered by his attentions.

That night, I was so excited I didn't sleep a wink. I continued to think about our parting – the way he kissed my hand, saying, ‘I would be really happy to see you again.' It was like a scene from a romantic movie. Replaying every moment of the evening in my mind, I didn't know if it was just a dream, or if I had actually met him.

My mother's departure for Europe was approaching. We had nearly forgotten about it, thanks to the El Id celebrations.

On El Id, the end of Ramadan, all of the nieces and nephews received envelopes stuffed with money
from family members (even those with whom we were only slightly acquainted). That year, I helped Dad fill the envelopes and write the name of the beneficiary on each one. Despite the fact that El Id was a festival dedicated to children, Dad had also prepared envelopes for his sisters and mother. As usual, he had filled them generously.

Linda, Klara and I went around collecting our envelopes from all of the aunts and uncles. Then we opened our little packets excitedly, dumping the contents on the table. Competing to see who had received the most (more money was usually given to the eldest), we raced to count the bills. Only a few family members had been more miserly than expected, just giving some small change. In the end, we had collected an astonishing sum, which we decided to put aside for when we wanted to buy ourselves something nice the next time we went shopping. We couldn't have known how much that money would help us when, soon enough, times became really tough.

After the party, the fact that Mum was going to be away for a few weeks finally hit me. Of course, as Dad had insisted she take such a long trip, it would be okay. Nonetheless, I felt a little worried and I didn't know who to talk to.

I automatically picked up a pen and paper and wrote everything to Bàsil. I re-read that long letter and found myself thinking of how important our correspondence
had become to me. I didn't share such intimate details of my life with anybody, not even Dani. Even though we had never truly met, I felt closer to him than to anybody else. It was an incredible feeling. At the club, I could talk to people my age who I barely knew. Bàsil, who was a friend, couldn't even be seen with me at the gate of my house. We both badly wanted to chat face-to-face, but to be seen in public would have been compromising, and to meet at one of our houses would pose an even greater risk.

His response arrived two days later. Unfortunately, it wasn't good news: Bàsil announced he would soon be leaving for America, where he would enrol into a prestigious college. His mother had decided the ongoing war meant it would be much safer for Bàsil to finish his studies abroad. Damn war. It was taking away the person most dear to me. Reading his long farewell message again, I realised how much I would miss his stories and the comfort of his friendship. In the last line, with clearer handwriting than usual, he wrote:

I was only able to wish him luck and promise that even though he was going to be far away, I would never
lose the habit of checking the crack in the wall where he left his letters. Maybe one day he would come back, and we would start writing to each other again.

Our parents accompanied us to Aunt Ahlam's house where us kids would stay until Mum came back. I normally stayed at Aunt Ahlam's willingly, and I was never bored with Samar. This time, however, I wasn't very enthusiastic. I wouldn't be able to meet up with Dani at the club and I was dying to meet and talk to Uday again. I was also anxious that Mum was going to be away for so long.

Mum phoned a week after her arrival in Germany to assure us that everything was okay. Dad listened intently, cradling the handset to his ear. Then I heard him say something about a flight to Prague, mentioning our names. He explained everything to us when he hung up.

In a few days he would put Linda, Klara and me on a flight to Frankfurt, where Mum would be waiting for us at the airport. The four of us would then stay at Babička's house until Dad flew over to meet us. Dad's terse tone made me suspicious. I didn't understand why we suddenly had to go on this ‘vacation'.

Mum phoned again a couple of days later. When it was my turn to talk to her she said, ‘Pay close attention,
Michelle. You have to do me a huge favour.' Her tone was serious. ‘You know where I keep all of our precious jewels, right?'

‘Yes.'

‘Good. Before leaving, you have to choose the prettiest ones and bring them to me.'

‘But, Mum, where will I put them?'

‘On your body. Wear them under your clothes: yours and Linda's and Klara's. Tell your sisters it's a surprise for me, like when we play “princess”.'

Every once in a while, to animate a boring afternoon, my sisters and I would beg Mum to let us play with her jewellery box full of precious baubles made from diamonds, emeralds and rubies. Linda was the one to come up with the idea. ‘Let's play princess!' she'd cry, and we'd put on several long handmade necklaces and rings and earrings. We made up stories about incredible kingdoms, ruled by kings and queens with bizarre names, as we raced to see who could put on the most jewellery.

Mum was asking us to play the game again, but her request seemed odd.

‘Do you understand, Michelle? Don't put anything in the suitcases. You never know, they could check the bags. Is everything clear?'

‘Yes, but … what are the jewels for?'

‘I can't explain to you now, but stay calm. Do as I tell you, without saying anything to anybody.'

‘Not even Baba?'

‘No, it's our secret. Remember: be especially careful with your little sisters. We'll see each other in Frankfurt in two days.'

It was all very strange. I explained to Linda and Klara that we were going to see our grandmother in Dobříč. They asked a few questions about the jewellery, but they believed the story about the game. Besides, I knew as much as they did. Remembering my parents' conversation that evening at the Al Rashid restaurant, it came back to me that Dad had raised the possibility of leaving Baghdad forever. If we were going to leave like this, I was certain they would have warned us.

I hoped I would only be away for a short time. Dani told me on the phone that Uday, after not seeing me for a few days, had asked about me. I didn't want him to forget me. I couldn't wait to go back to the club and pick up our discussion from where we left off.

As we three girls disembarked the plane, wearing garlands of heavy and uncomfortable necklaces under our clothes, one of the floor staff in the Frankfurt airport escorted us to a reserved room, full of blue armchairs. Linda, who was very tired, started asking for Mum. Klara tried to keep her quiet, while I stayed alert, out of fear somebody might notice our suspicious behaviour.

I couldn't wait to be able to take off Mum's jewels. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to wear my favourite
piece – a pair of very flashy earrings. It was strange that Dad hadn't noticed them when he drove us to the airport. I had the impression that everyone was staring at me, and that they knew we had necklaces and bracelets hidden on our bodies. I was terrified by the idea that they might steal them from us.

Linda had become more weary, but then Mum finally arrived. She was wearing a very large trench coat we had never seen before. She too appeared exhausted. She hugged us and I felt a sense of calm sweep over me. Shortly after, we flew to Prague together. It was already dark when we reached Babička's house.

We put our things in our room immediately. Left alone with my mother, I finally took off her jewels. Mum undressed; under her outfit, between her under-garments and a strange-looking body vest, she had hidden bundles of cash. It looked as if she had robbed a bank. She slipped the money out from her body vest and put it with the jewels into a leather bag.

‘You girls have been really wonderful. I knew I could trust you.' She smiled, but I saw she was worn out.

‘Why did we come to Babička's? What are the jewels for?' I asked.

She took a seat next to me. ‘My dear, your father and I are very worried about the war. Baghdad isn't a safe place anymore and …' she spoke slowly, as if she was choosing her words carefully.

‘But we're going back soon, right?' I was suddenly afraid.

‘When things calm down.'

‘But I don't want to stay here in Dobříč. I want to go home!' I whined. I already felt ill at the thought of being so far away.

‘All right, Michelle, calm down. In any case, we're only going to be here for a few weeks, until Baba comes to collect us.'

I had a disturbing dream that night. I dreamed I was at Bibi's house in Baghdad, surrounded by my entire family. A mysterious man, a type of policeman, knocked on the door and said he had come to take me away. I didn't want to go. As I looked for Mum or Dad to tell him it was a misunderstanding, he grabbed me by the arm and led me away. I reached my arms out towards my cousins and aunts, but they shrank away from me. The man locked me inside a long black car and drove off. I pounded furiously on the doors. I screamed loudly with my hands pressed against the glass. I wanted to get out.

I woke up in a cold sweat, very distressed. I saw Mum, ready to go out, at the foot of the bed. She had the bag of money and jewels with her.

‘Where are you going?' I asked.

‘To the bank, to put these things in a secure place. Lie back down and go to sleep. It's still early.'

Mum returned later that morning; the bag still full because all the safe-deposit boxes at the bank were unavailable. As there was nothing we could do about the situation for the moment, I helped her hide the money and jewels under the bed.

A week later, early in the morning, I felt my mother slide out from under the covers. She usually slept next to my grandmother, but often she would sleep beside me or my sisters. There still wasn't a telephone at Babička's house, so Mum had to run to the village post office to receive Dad's call from Baghdad. When she returned, she told us we had to pack our bags quickly – we were going home. Babička, shocked, asked why we had to leave so soon. Mum told her there was a problem with our visas; we had to return at once, before they expired.

I remembered the night at the restaurant when Dad asked Mum to bring the money back to Iraq. I asked her if I should grab the leather bag from under the bed to take back with us. She stopped to think, sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘We'll leave it here,' she replied.

‘I thought Baba said to bring it back with us?'

Mum paused, deep in thought. ‘For now, I think it's best this way.'

‘We should take it to the bank. Perhaps one of the safe-deposit boxes has freed up …'

‘Unfortunately not. I checked yesterday. I really hoped that might be the case. I'd be able to leave it there without a worry. But we'll just have to keep it here.'

‘Does Babička know?'

‘Of course. She said she'd be careful.'

‘And you trust her?'

‘What a question! Of course I do. And besides, it's in a secret hiding spot, right?'

That afternoon we said goodbye to our grandmother and took a bus to the airport. Mum reminded her to be very careful and not to say a thing to anyone.