Please don’t freak out… I kind of like you.
My eyes paused a moment then replied,I kind of like you too.
The only other person I’d ever had a conversation with using just a gaze, a glance, a sideways look, was Andrew.
Tariq’s father cleared his throat and clinked his ceramic cup down on the coffee table. “Good. I have said my piece.” With that he got up and left the room.
None of us said a word for a few moments, until we heard the door to an upstairs bedroom slam, at which point Tariq’s mother leaned forward again and said, “Nowyou can call me Zahra.”
* * *
Tariq helped Zahra turn down the sheets on the bed in one of the lavish guest rooms on the upstairs floor of the house.
“Please, don’t go to any trouble,” I said.
But Zahra was already ironing out the wrinkles in the sheets with her hands, before reaching into her pocket producing a handful of treats wrapped in silver foil which she laid on the pillow. “Chocolate-covered dates… in case you get hungry during the night. Now, is there anything else we can get you?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. You’ve already been so generous.”
“Nonsense. All we’ve managed to do so far is subject you to my husband’s moods. You must be exhausted.”
“I am, actually.”
“Very well, off to bed with you. Fruit and Arabic coffee for breakfast… and a nice cold glass of camel’s milk too.”
“Camel’s milk?” I uttered, but Zahra had already whisked her way out of the room.
Tariq gave me a smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it… I think. Now rest. You need it. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Just before he closed the door behind him, I couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s your room?” I wasn’t sure why I was asking. Perhaps I was feeling needy, sleeping in a strange house in a foreign country. Perhaps I just needed to know he was near.
He smiled again and opened the door wide. “I’m just across the hallway.” He pointed to the door opposite. “Are you going to be all right by yourself?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve been by myself for years now. I’ve gotten quite good at it… perhaps a little too good.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that.
I wasn’t even sure why I’d said it… but I did.
“Well… good night, Arthur,” was all he managed by way of a response.
I sighed. “Good night, Tariq. And thank you for patching me up.” I pointed to the gauze taped to my stitched-up temple.
“It was my pleasure.”
With that he closed the door.
I sat on the bed and suddenly my sheer exhaustion hit me.
I laid on my back, as though sitting up for one more moment seemed an impossible task.
I closed my eyes, and there on the bed— still dressed in the clothes I had put on after my attempt at a shower at the old dormitory— I fell into a sleep so deep that not even dreams came.
CHAPTER10
I woketo the sound of a knock at the door so gentle, I wondered how long the person had been knocking.
“Come in. Please.”