The Other Half of My Soul (23 page)

“Definitely not!” With a burst of laughter, Eli and Kamil responded in unison.

“Okay, you guys. All into the library. Go play tawleh. I have work to do.”

* * *

Rami and Kamil were first to sit down at the backgammon table, the one that Rayna and her grandfather used to play on. While Eli waited his turn to play the winner, he wandered into the study where Rayna was at the computer. “What are you doing?”

“Working on another article for the magazine.”

“Rayna, I’m sorry about all that has happened to you,” Eli eased into an opening.

“We make our choices and then we live with them.”

“Rayna, I don’t want to upset you more, but . . .”

“But you will anyway. Go on, Eli. What is it now?”

“The rabbis have ruled on your case and . . .”

“Case! What case?”

“For marrying a Muslim.”

“A
beit din
? A religious court is ruling on my life for marrying Rami? You know, I recall something like that happening to Salman Rushdie when fundamentalist Islamic clerics ruled against him and put out a
fatwa
on his life.”

“I should never have told you.”

“Well, now that you have, finish it! Tell me the rest.”

“No one in the community is to have contact with you, not ever, lest you corrupt their ways. The gossip is cruel. You’ve been ostracized. Excommunicated.”

“Like Spinoza?”

“Yes. Like Spinoza. You can’t go back. There’s no forgiveness. Rayna, I’m sorry to be the messenger, but at least you know where you stand.”

“And Mom?”

“Mom’s not coping well and rues the day she had you. You upset her orderly little world and she’ll never forgive you for it.
Never
.”

“And Dad?”

“Dad is struggling with his love for you, his life with Mom, and living in the Syrian community. I’m certain his salvation will be to throw himself even more into his businesses.”

“And you, Eli? What’s your position?”

“You’ll always be my sister. That won’t change.”

So the rabbis have acted as judge, jury, and prosecuting attorney. I wasn’t even given the opportunity to plead my case.
“Eli, I have loved you from the time I can first remember. You have been my rock . . . thank you for telling me. It’s good to know who my enemies are. You know, Eli, if I consume myself with living for other people’s approval, I will become their prisoner.”

“Has Rami been worth it?”

“Yes, Eli. He has.”

* * *

Trotting into the study, Rami announced, “It is your turn, Eli. Kamil won.”

“The game was very close,” Kamil smiled humbly.

“Do you know that nobody can beat my sister at tawleh?”

“He is right about that. Nobody beats my wife. She had an excellent teacher . . . her jidaw.”

“Kamil, I bet ten dollars on the game. You and my sister.”

Delighted to accept the challenge, Kamil sat across from Rayna. The two set up the board. Kamil caught himself staring and forced his gaze away. Rayna wore a brushed cotton, lavender turtleneck. Her black stretch pants clung gently to her lower frame. To Kamil, Rayna represented the total sensuality of a woman.

“Uh-uh, I wouldn’t move there if I were you,” Eli intervened, making Kamil’s next move for him.

Rayna rolled her eyes, “Oh, brother!”

Rami jumped in, “No, not there. Here. Move here. I know my wife’s mind. She will not take your piece.” Within seconds, everyone was absorbed in the playful commotion.

* * *

Over the next few evenings, Rami, Eli, and Kamil managed to scrounge up enough men for basketball games at the gym at the Jewish Community Center. Returning home, they would be full of chatter, hunger, and body odor. Rayna would send them all upstairs, “No dinner until you shower.” Then, after dinner, the three men would stay up late playing backgammon and talking into the wee hours while Rayna slept.

* * *

On the last night of their visit, Kamil took them all out to the Cheesecake Factory. The four babbled incessantly and cleaned every morsel on their plates. Feeling stuffed when the waitress came to tempt them with dessert, they all agreed to share one slice of pumpkin cheesecake. “Four spoons,” Rayna requested.

This was as close to intimacy as Kamil had known since losing his family.
Connection. Bonding. Trust. Four human beings on this earth and not a bit of difference who we are. Jew, Muslim, Sunni, Shi’ite.
This was the peace Kamil was searching for. “Rayna, we’re waiting for your next article.”

“It’s ready, Kamil. I’ll print out a hard copy tonight. I’ve already e-mailed the file to you.”

The three men lifted their water glasses, “Here’s to Rayna’s successful career in journalism.”

* * *

Later that night, Kamil lay in bed with a copy of Rayna’s latest article. She wrote about the repeated attempts by the United States government to eradicate the coca plants in southern Colombia and why the project had been failing for years. She told of greedy contractors and lax government workers who were low on over-sight and high on fringe benefits.

. . . knowingly, the American government has allowed itself to be bilked of millions. For years, government contractors have been spraying lethal chemicals from the air over the southern Colombian states of Putumayo and Caquetá. The toxins pollute the water, contaminate the air and soil, wipe out vegetation, destroy food sources, and cause illness and death to the region’s indigenous people. Yet, the coca plants continue to thrive and the drug trade continues to flourish . . .

When Kamil was done, he read it again. Rayna had another winner. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep but could not. His marriage to Maddy was a big mistake.
Where was my head? What was I thinking? Was I so desperate that I could not see?
Three weeks earlier, Kamil had arrived home from work sooner than expected. His dinner meeting had been cancelled and he hurried home to be with Nida. Turning the key in the front door, he entered the apartment to find Nida in her crib crying and Maddy in bed with her closest girlfriend.
In my bed! How could she?
He was grateful to Maddy’s mother, a loving and kind grandmother who adored Nida. She offered to take the child during the week and help out until the messy affair was settled. Kamil knew it would be an ugly divorce. Maddy was threatening to fight for custody.

* * *

On Friday morning, Rayna dipped each slice of challah into a mixture of eggs, milk, maple syrup, cinnamon, and vanilla. The kitchen table was set, fresh cut-up melon filled a bowl, and the aroma of just-brewed coffee permeated the air. She heard the three men coming down the steps.

“Mmmm, I’m famished!” Eli checked out the French toast on the electric griddle. He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. “Perfect,” he smiled approvingly.

Playfully, Rayna swatted his hand. “You couldn’t be that famished after the big dinner you ate last night.”

“Wanna bet?” He gave his sister a peck on the cheek and carried the platter to the table.

“You know, Eli, I’ve always noticed that playing basketball never fails to trigger a rise in your testosterone.” Using that male word, Rayna noted Rami giving her a censuring glare.

“Dig in,” Eli grinned as he passed the maple syrup.

When the very last crumb was eaten, Rayna reminded everyone that it was time to get going. “Rami and I have classes and you two need to hit the road. Eli has to be home in time for shabbat, before sundown.”

* * *

“Basketball was great. It certainly does cause a rise in one’s
testosterone
,” Rami jested as he and Rayna walked Eli and Kamil out to the driveway.

“My husband has learned a new English word which I hope he doesn’t overuse,” Rayna bantered. Hugging Eli goodbye, she made him promise to come with Alexis next time. Turning to Kamil, she thanked him for bringing Eli, then quietly took him aside and asked. “Are things any better with you and Maddy?”

Kamil shook his head. “I wish I could say they were. One evening, not too long ago, I unexpectedly came home early from work and found Nida in her crib crying, and Maddy . . . and Maddy . . . Maddy was in bed with her closest girlfriend. In my bed . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Oh, Kamil, I’m so sorry,” Rayna gave him a caring hug. “Where is Nida now? What will you do?”

“Nida is safe and happy with her grandmother, but an ugly divorce is on the horizon. Maddy wants custody.”

“Please let us know how we can help. Anything at all. Rami and I are here for you. Eli, too. You’ll find my brother to be a loyal friend . . . and he lives in New York.”

“Thank you for these past few days.” Kamil’s eyes watered. He wanted to gently take Rayna’s face in his hands but refrained from doing so. “My mother . . .” He stumbled. “My mother was a lot like you. Rami is a lucky man. You are his blessing.”

“What a sweet thing to say, Kamil. Someday, you will find your blessing when you least expect it. Be patient. It will happen in time. I feel it in my blood.”

“I can’t thank you enough for everything. Rayna, I read your article last night. You have another winner.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Rayna took his hand, “I’m worried about you.”

“Your caring means a lot . . . I’ll be okay.”

* * *

In the driveway, Rami and Rayna waved goodbye to their guests. “It was a good visit.”

“Yes, it was.”
Rami, Eli, and Kamil
. . .
I will call them my Three Musketeers, for their lives will be full of adventure and forever intertwined.

twenty-seven

Go, eat your bread in gladness, and drink your wine in joy; for your action was long ago approved by God.

—Ecclesiastes 9:7

Awakened from a deep sleep, Rami reached across the bed and lifted the receiver. “Hello.” He checked the clock on the nightstand. He glanced at Rayna sleeping. “Nolan, do you know what time it is?” Rami listened to Nolan’s tale. The police were at the professor’s home. He needed Rami to come right away. “There is no traffic at this hour so I can be there in twenty minutes.” He hung up the phone.

Rubbing her eyes, Rayna mumbled, “Rami, what is it? Who was that?”

“Someone tried to break into Nolan’s lab. Drilled a big hole through the solid oak door. The motion detector triggered the alarm when the prowlers entered. I must go help him.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, my rrawhee, I will be fine. The police are there now. Go back to sleep. I will call you later, and I promise to be home by six. My cell is on if you need to reach me.” He leaned across the bed, “Happy first anniversary.” He kissed her. “With each new day, I love you more.”

“Mmmm. Love you, too.”

* * *

When Rami arrived at Nolan’s house, the police were in the midst of questioning Nolan. By default, Rami’s presence made him part of the inquest. Nolan explained that Rami was one of his students and also a friend. One of the officers took notes.

“This was not an amateurish burglary. Not the work of young-sters looking for drug money,” said the other officer. “This was the work of professionals who wanted something specific in this house. Now, Doctor Nolan, tell us what you think that may be. Surely, you have some idea.”

“A professional thief?” Nolan asked innocently. “I don’t keep a lot of cash around. I don’t have expensive jewelry. I don’t have . . .”

“There is something in this house that somebody wants. I suggest you attempt to figure it out, because I guarantee they’ll be back.”

After the policemen left, Rami examined the large hole in the heavy door. “Dear Allah! How could you not have heard the drilling, Nolan? And what about your neighbors?”

“Rami, I was asleep. I assume my neighbors were, too. The alarm went off and woke me.”

“Whoever Yousef sent will return. We must get the bacteria out of here. Today!”

Nolan dialed his secretary, Bertha, and asked her to come as quickly as possible. Rami leafed through the Yellow Pages, found a security service, and requested their two best guards. Nolan called the company who had installed the door and explained the urgency of replacing it. The two then delved into the real estate section of
The Washington Post
.

* * *

In a strip mall in Gaithersburg, along the congested but convenient Montgomery Village Avenue, Rami and Nolan found what they hoped would be a safe sanctuary. With a three-month deposit up front, they could gain access by early afternoon. The large room, atop a music store, had a separate entrance and was wired with a security system.

Renting a U-Haul truck, the two men transported the contents of the lab to the new location. By late afternoon, all was set up. Nolan and Rami were exhausted. “Whew! This has been one heck of a day. May I take you and Rayna out for dinner to say thank you?”

“Thanks, Nolan, but tonight Rayna and I are celebrating our first anniversary with friends.”

* * *

Jeannie and Stan were young lawyers who lived next door to Rami and Rayna. The two couples had become friends and good neighbors. Their anniversaries fell within the same week and they planned to celebrate the milestone together.

At the Marrakesh restaurant in downtown Washington, the four were escorted to a round, hand-hammered brass table that sat close to the floor. Lowering themselves onto large, colorful pillows, they felt as if they had been transported to the Casbah in Morocco. As the evening unfolded, they were pampered with a three-hour extravaganza of Moroccan food, music, and belly dancing. Joy and laughter filled their space. By evening’s end, they were all feeling blissfully high.

* * *

Returning home that night, Rami went straight to bed. After a full day that had begun in the early morning hours, he could not keep his eyes open another minute. Rayna flossed and brushed her teeth, washed her face, and crawled into bed. Cuddling up to her sleeping husband, she felt something jab her and she jumped up. On her pillow was a small, delicately wrapped box. Turning on the lamplight, Rayna quietly unwrapped it, removing a dainty gold bracelet-watch adorned with brilliant stones of pink and purple. The inscription on the back read:
I will love you longer than forever—Rami.

She brushed her lips against his cheek, “May your Allah protect you and keep you safe, always.” On his nightstand where Rami would see it when he woke, Rayna placed the pocket-sized GPS street pilot that she knew he wanted.

* * *

Later that week, on his way to meet Rayna for lunch at the Student Union building, Rami spotted Omar ahead. When he called out to him, Omar increased his pace. Rami picked up speed until he was alongside his old friend. Out of breath, he asked, “Did you hear me calling to you?” When Omar remained silent, Rami jerked him by the arm, forcing him to decelerate and listen. “I am sorry for all that has not gone well. Yousef’s cruel exploits have extracted a toll on our friendship. I know that I am taking great risks by not succumbing to Yousef’s bullying. It nearly cost me my life. You have chosen to acquiesce and play it safe. It is not a matter of right or wrong, good or bad. I respect you for your choice. Please do not judge me harshly for mine.”

“Look, Rami, I am not ready to die. And my family . . . well, I have seen what Yousef and Abdallah are capable of doing.”

“You know, Omar, I never properly thanked you for guiding Kamil to my rescue. You did not even have the decency to warn me of my dire situation.”

“I was scared . . .”

“And now what is your excuse? I want to know about the break-in at Nolan’s.”

Omar fumbled, “I . . . I have to go.”

“Do not turn your back, Omar. Look what has happened to you. You are changed.”

Omar’s eyes blinked rapidly. He extracted an oath of silence from Rami, then revealed all that he knew. “Yousef says he wants the bacteria now. He dreams of having power over all mankind . . . threatening to unleash the bacteria. Yousef says it is like having a nuclear bomb in his hands. He has made a decision not to wait for the results of Nolan’s work. Abdallah and a man named Ghazi attempted the break-in.”

“I owe you for this . . .”

“There is more.” Omar’s hands were shaking. His books fell from his grip. Nervously, he bent and picked them up. “Yousef has plans for you. He wants to take you off of Nolan’s project once the bacteria is in his hands. And he intends for your life to be one of negotiating arms-for-drugs, if he decides to let you live. Carlos el Negro was impressed with you.”

A cold chill slithered up Rami’s spine and he shuddered.

“Once Yousef has secured the bacteria for himself, he will kill Nolan and . . . and . . . and I am late for class.”

“No, Omar. I beg you to finish. Tell me the rest.”

“Yousef is taken with Rayna’s beauty. He wants her.”

“What!”

“He does not know that she is a Jew. Rami, I am late for class. Salaam.”

A yoke of guilt tightened around Rami’s neck.
I knowingly put Rayna in danger by marrying her. How selfish I have been.
A tickle in his throat triggered a coughing spasm. Tears trickled down his face. Reaching into his book bag, he took out a bottle of water and drank it all. The coughing subsided.
As long as Nolan and I have possession of the bacteria, we are safe
, Rami deluded himself.

* * *

By the end of the semester, Rayna’s writing had won her much recognition and many awards. Her controversial articles in
InterContinental Weekly
continued to bring in a daily deluge of mail long after publication. Never had Simon or Kamil seen such a response. A dramatic rise in the magazine’s circulation and a clamoring for more of Rayna’s work set her on a course that would eventually launch her into the public eye.

Kamil and Simon asked Rayna to work full time over the summer and offered her hefty compensation. She turned them down. She and Rami had other plans. The first six weeks of the summer would be spent in school taking classes, advancing closer to an early graduation. Then they were off to a much anticipated two-week vacation in southern Spain.