The Other Half of My Soul (25 page)

* * *

Approaching Gibraltar, Rayna sighted the gigantic chunk of jagged limestone rising up from the Mediterranean. “Look! The Rock of Gibraltar! Can we stop?”

Edmund parked the car. They climbed to the Upper Rock and watched the dolphins jumping in and out of the shimmering blue water. In the distance, the stately Rif Mountains of North Africa swelled gracefully from the earth. “Sorry, you two, but we must leave now if we want to make the next ferry across,” Inga said.

* * *

The Nordic hydrofoil sat in its slip. Rami and Edmund walked off to buy the tickets. Rayna and Inga trailed behind, deep in conversation. Rayna stopped to lace up her sneaker, which had become untied. From the boat, a horn bellowed, indicating an imminent departure. “Why don’t you catch up with the men? I’ll meet you at the ferry. Be sure it doesn’t leave without me.” When Inga hesitated, Rayna urged, “Go on. I’ll be right there.” She knelt to the ground, concentrating on double-knotting both laces. Oblivious to the tourists rushing toward the ferry, Rayna was not aware of two little boys fighting. Their mother had tried to separate them, but they dashed from her grip and knocked Rayna over.

* * *

Absorbed in dialogue with Edmund, Rami assumed that Rayna was close behind with Inga. He stepped onto the hydrofoil and instinctively reached for Rayna’s hand. She was not there. Panic struck. Once before, he had let go of her hand to buy tickets for the passage. Once before, she had vanished. Terror engulfed him.
Please Allah, do not take her from me again
. “Rayna! Rayna! Rayna!” He ran from the boat screaming her name.

* * *

Swarms of people hurried to reach the ferry. Rayna tried to get up but could not. Bodies crowded her space, almost trampling her. Scared, she cried out for Rami.

Jolting through the masses, Rami bellowed, “Rayna! Rayna!”

Edmund and Inga joined the search. “Rami, here! We found her!”

Spotting Edmund’s head above the crowd, Rami frantically leaped toward him. Seeing Rayna on the ground, he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. In those few moments of blurred twilight, Rami was petrified that history might repeat itself. Lowering his forehead to meet hers, he uttered, “I am not strong enough to live without you. I do not want to take this trip.”

“Rami, crossing the Straits . . . isn’t it closure you came here for?”

Rami searched her face. “Yes,” he nodded.

* * *

Arriving in Tangiers, a barrage of unscrupulous guides bombarded the disembarking tourists, aggressively vying for their business. Rami tightened his grip on Rayna. “If the four of us stay together, we’ll be okay,” said Edmund, who was now clutching Inga’s hand. The two women wanted to shop at the souq and immediately became engrossed in the wares at one particular booth. In Arabic, Rami negotiated a price for a piece of jewelry that Rayna liked.

The merchant, an elderly man, stopped to talk with a younger man who had just entered. In broken English, the merchant made the introduction, “My son. Very good. Very honest. He show you Tangiers.” The son smiled. His white teeth glistened against his warm brown skin. Dark shoulder-length hair hung in loose ringlets framing his face.

Rami spoke to him in Arabic. “Can you drive us to Ceuta, wait for us, then bring us back?”

“Yes,” the son answered.

“How much?”

When a price was agreed upon, Rami turned to Edmund, who nodded. “Tell him we’ll pay one third now, the rest when we safely return. We’re as honest as his father says he is.”

The son looked to his father, who approved the terms presented. Rami paid for the gold bracelet and slipped it onto Rayna’s wrist. Edmund bought Inga a necklace and dropped it into her purse.

* * *

Arriving in Ceuta in the early afternoon, they found the restaurant that had been recommended and invited the young Muslim to join them. Lunch was not disappointing. Rami and Rayna ordered a dish of asparagus tips with potatoes and eggs. Edmund and Inga had rice with seafood. The Moroccan guide ate a dish of eggplant with potatoes and pimentos. Feeling pleasantly full after their big meals, the five still managed to make room for an iced chocolate drink and vanilla ice cream.

* * *

After lunch, the group walked around the town, weaving through the maze of streets. They entered old mosques, churches, and synagogues. They passed shops and cafés, upscale homes and shacks. Ceuta had a different feel. It was not Spain, but it was not Morocco either. The guide made it known that in Ceuta the Muslim residents were treated as inferiors.

Rami and Rayna wondered what might have been if they had actually arrived here five hundred years earlier. Imagining different scenarios, they concluded that this place held nothing for them except a fantasy, and the realization that, if they had succeeded in a life together back then, they might never have known the love they now shared.

The journey to Spain opened up a past that Rami and Rayna needed to understand. It had transported them back in time, then just as swiftly, propelled them forward to the present, a place where they preferred to be, at least for the time being.

twenty-nine

Whatever the mind thinks of, that alone it sees. What people call fate or divine will is nothing other than action from the past acting upon itself. Even as motion is inherent in air, manifestation is inherent in consciousness.

—Yoga Vashistha

Rayna had agreed to send Kamil another article by Labor Day. Gathering all her research material, she sat down at the computer, struggling to present an objective picture.

Religion is the universal obsessional neurosis of humanity, Sigmund Freud once wrote. Since that time, many scholars of religion have asserted that humans have an innate need to create a supernatural force. The conception of a deity can provide comfort, order, and explanation to an otherwise chaotic world. It can also provide justification for intolerance, wars, destruction, genocide . . .

She summarized the world’s five foremost religions—Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, and Judaism. Elaborating on each denomination’s philosophies, she explored the roles of peace and violence, spirituality and fanaticism, tolerance and oppression. Offering quotes from several experts, Rayna was able to make a case for the genetic disposition in humans to create a higher power—a god.

* * *

“It’s too controversial,” Simon argued. “Rayna is not an expert. Her take on religion could stir an international backlash. Fundamentalists will look for any excuse. Terrorism is on the rise and will get worse. Our magazine may not survive an attack like this.”

But Kamil argued strongly on Rayna’s behalf, pointing out that she had objectively presented her material and provided enlightenment on a subject that holds universal interest. In the end, Simon acquiesced, “You’re the editor-in-chief, Kamil, so I’ll defer to you. I’ll also hold you responsible for the consequences.”

* * *

Rayna’s article generated admonishment and controversy. It also drew noteworthy praise and commendations. The magazine’s circulation soared. Subscribers wanted to read more from Rayna. The media critiqued her and her work. Photographers shadowed the young journalist, clicking their cameras at every opportunity. Soon, Rayna’s exquisite face flashed across magazine covers. Requests for interviews and speaking engagements poured in. Overnight, Rayna had become a sensation. The public was captivated.

She found the attention distressing and craved her privacy. Discussing this new wave of events with Rami, Rayna made a decision. Hoping to deflate the unwanted recognition, she refused to write anything more for
InterContinental Weekly
until after graduation. School and Rami were her priorities, and for now she wanted to keep it that way.

* * *

Early fall brought the Jewish high holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Nearby, Rayna had found a Sephardic synagogue with a mostly Moroccan congregation. The familiar liturgy and Arabic melodies reminded her of just how much she missed her Syrian roots. When Rami had expressed a desire to attend services with her, Rayna cautioned, “Orthodox Judaism, like Islam, requires men and women to be separated. And like devout Muslims, who know the rituals and prayers as well as they know how to breathe, orthodox Jewish men are of the same merit. Your unfamiliarity with our ways and our Hebrew liturgy will stand out and . . .”

“I would like to try . . . please.”

“Yes,” she smiled. “I’ll buy tickets for both of us.”

* * *

In late October, after a stressful commute in heavy rain and bumper-to-bumper Beltway traffic, Rami and Rayna returned home to the sound of Abe’s voice on the answering machine. From the kitchen desk, they heard, “Hello, Rayna. This is Dad. Please call me. My new cell phone number is 718-626 . . .”

The call caught Rayna by surprise. It had been a long time. She lifted the receiver, “Dad?”

“Rayna?” There was a conspicuous pause. “Is this a bad time? I could call back.”

“No, Dad, it’s a good time. We just walked in the door from school.”

“How is school?”

“Good. We’ll graduate this year and . . .”

“I’ve been reading your articles. You’ve become quite a celebrity.”

“I wouldn’t quite call it that. Celebrity status is not what I want from life.”

“Well, anyhow, I’m very proud of you.”

“That means a lot to me. Thank you.”

“I’d like to see you. I miss you.”

“You’re welcome to visit us. Our door is always open.”

“Can I see you without the . . .”

“I know. Without the Muslim. The answer is no. Rami is my husband . . .”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

“At home . . . well . . . no different. But business is good. How . . . how is he treating you?”

“
He
has a name. And I’m ecstatically happy with Rami, if that’s what you mean. Rami treats me with more love than I ever dreamed possible. You may have regrets, but I don’t.”

“Well I just wanted to hear your voice and congratulate you. That’s all.”

“Bye, Dad.” Rayna hung up the phone before she could hear her father utter, “I love you.”

* * *

The third week in December marked the beginning of Ramadan. Rami had not been inside a mosque since the imam’s stinging sermon on Jewish annihilation and Islamic domination. He swore to keep his distance from the ugly rhetoric and turned to Rayna for closeness during this Islamic holy month. With her love and understanding, Rami’s fasting brought new meaning. His sixth sense heightened and his connection to Allah deepened.

* * *

At the end of March 1999, Rami gave his wife a beautifully handcrafted jewelry box made from ebony and curly maple. The inscription inside the lid read:
My love for you has no beginning and no end. Happy second anniversary—Rami
.

Rayna presented her husband with a custom-made replica of La Sinagoga. The Arabic inscription on the small front door read:
El’li ma andou atiq, ma yijinou jdid.
One who does not hold onto that which is ancient, will not be able to have that which is new.
My love for you is boundless. Happy second anniversary—Rayna
.

* * *

The evening following their anniversary, Rami and Rayna celebrated the first night of Passover at the home of Marisa and Jason. Seventeen Jews and one Muslim took their places around the seder table, which was made extra long by three leaves Jason had added. Young Miriam insisted on sitting between Rayna and Rami. “Is that okay?” Marisa asked.

“Absolutely.” Rayna joyfully reached out to Miriam, who climbed onto her lap.

Joseph took his seat on the other side of Rami and immediately began fidgeting with Rami’s watch. Rami winked and removed the timepiece from his wrist. He put it on Joseph. “You can wear it . . . for tonight.”

“Another one of our children you don’t need crowding you,” Marisa laughed as David started toward Rami. “David, you go sit by your father. He needs your help with the service.” Unhappily, the lad did as he was told.

* * *

Rami’s attention kept drifting to the matzoh that filled two plexiglass holders at opposite ends of the table.
How could anyone be so twisted with lies to believe that Jews kill non-Jewish children and use their blood to bake matzoh
? Rami never did accept the senseless, inflammatory blood libel stories, but the seeds planted in him at such a vulnerable young age did occasionally surface from their dormancy. He wanted to join the others in partaking of the matzoh, but could not bring himself to consume the unleavened bread, or even have it on his plate.

* * *

Goblets brimmed with Manischewitz blackberry wine for the adults and grape juice for Rami and the children. The traditional seder plate was placed in front of Jason. A small decorative pillow rested at his left side. Beginning the service, Jason explained the purpose of each symbolic food. David proudly pointed to the items as his father spoke. “The roasted shankbone represents the sacrificial lamb. Bitter herbs remind us of our slavery in Egypt. Charoses symbolizes the mortar we used to make bricks. Salt water depicts the tears we shed. Parsley signifies springtime and rebirth.” A goblet was filled for the prophet, Elijah. A piece of matzoh was put aside for the afikomen, to be hidden so the children could search for it later. The seder began. Everyone took turns reading from their Haggadah, recounting the ancient story of Passover. Two-thirds of the way through the service, a feast fit for royalty was served. The evening ended with the merriment of Passover songs intertwined with clapping and bursts of laughter.

* * *

By the end of the week, Nolan had left for Maine to spend the Easter holiday with his daughter, Anna, and her fiancé and his family. While he was gone, Nolan’s house was broken into again. The alarm triggered, bringing the police to the scene. Rami was called, since it was his name that Nolan had given to the security firm. The burglars took nothing and left no clues. At a loss, the police began questioning the neighbors.

“I have everything under control,” Rami told Nolan. “Your house is locked up and I reset the alarm. Nothing was taken. I also went to the lab and checked everything there. All is okay. Relax and enjoy your Easter holiday. I will see you when you get back.”

* * *

The day after Nolan’s return from Maine, Rami received an anxious call. “Two men in a black van have been following me. I was on my way over to the lab, but kept on going. I’m here at Lakeforest Mall and . . .”

“Nolan, where are the men now?”

“I think they’re staked out by my car, waiting for me. I’m not sure. But they’re not here.”

“I am on my way now. Meet you in Starbucks. Get a cup of coffee while you are waiting.”

* * *

“Yousef is determined to get possession while the bacteria are in the most destructive state, while they still cannot be contained. He has no intention of waiting for you to complete the work.” Over a frappuccino, Rami filled Nolan in on the details. “Yousef’s power lies in his ability to threaten the world. His delusions of grandeur include holding six billion people at his mercy.”

“So now what, Rami? How long do we sit here?”

“All night, if we have to. Until their patience runs out. Until those barbarians either come in here for you, or they leave. But in either case, they will be back. So, our next move, as soon as it is safe to do so . . . you are not going to like this, Nolan, but we must get over to the lab and destroy the bacteria.”

“What!”

“Shhh. Keep your voice down.”

“All my work, Rami. We can’t . . .”

“How important will your work be to you if you are dead? Think, Nolan. You are a professor of philosophy. You taught me to look at all the angles.”

“So now what?”

“We will no longer pursue this undertaking, and Yousef must never find out. As long as he believes the bacteria are within his reach, we are safe. That is the key to our survival.”

* * *

In spite of the enormous stress they were under, Rami and Rayna had succeeded in graduating with high honors. They anticipated their next move—New York City and Columbia University. Rami planned to pursue a degree in international law. Rayna was determined to further her journalism studies with advanced degrees.

The couple set out in search of an apartment for their three-year stay in New York. Simon, however, beat them to it with a tempting proposal. If Rayna were willing to commit to one article a month while in graduate school, she and Rami could have exclusive use of the corporate apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, rent free. It overlooked Central Park and was within walking distance of the university. “Decent housing is not only hard to come by in this city, but also very expensive.” Simon’s argument was persuasive. In the end, after carefully reviewing the limited options, Rayna and Rami agreed to the trade.

* * *

When Edmund learned of the couple’s plans, he advised Rami to hold onto the townhouse in Bethesda. “Real estate all over Washington is booming. And besides, I hope one day you’ll accept my job offer and move back here. A comparable house like yours could skyrocket, costing you double or triple what you paid. You would be smart to hold onto what you have.”

So Rami spoke with Rayna, and they took Edmund’s advice. They kept their home.