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Chapter Thirty Seven
They put up road-blocks, they dimmed all the signs, they planted canons, they mined the squares, where are you, love? After you, we became the love that screams we became the distances. For the happy days we longed, the days of staying up on the road, the long walks, the rendezvous at the old restaurant. O love of Beirut, O love of days, they will come back Beirut, the days will come back. It is the second summer, the moon is broken, is it true you may forget me, my defeated love? I went back to my house, my house I didn't find, only smoke and twisted beams, no rose and no fence. “Ya Hawa Beirut”, Fairuz. Arabic Lyrics by the Rahbani Brothers.
Khalil walked down the street on the way to work, but halted when the sound of gunfire blasted through his ears. In the distance, he saw a woman covered in a black cloak grab hold of her head and scream. The next moment, she fell to the floor. He ran towards her and found her lying motionless with blood spilling out of her ears. It was too late to help her. She was dead. Struggling to overcome his shock, he stood up and searched his surroundings. Finding the sniper on the roof of the building across from him, he turned around and ran in the opposite direction. As he ran, he heard footsteps speeding after him. Swiveling through narrow alleyways, he reached a dead end. He turned around to find a mob of armed men pointing their AK47s at him. He dropped to his knees, thrust his arms into the air, and yelled,
“Don’t shoot! Don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me! I’m only fourteen! I’m begging you, please don’t kill me!” he shouted again and again while breaking down into inconsolable sobs. The armed men paid him no heed. They lifted their weapons, aimed at the boy’s forehead, and placed their fingers over the triggers…
Khalil woke up with a start and struggled to catch his breath. He looked around to discover he was lying on the floor next to his bed with his blanket hanging down over his head. His back ached so much he knew he must have fallen off the bed while tossing and turning in his failed attempt to sleep. His body shivered, but whether it was from coldness or fear, he could not tell. When he stood up, his head twirled and throbbed. He almost lost his balance and needed to lean against the side of his bed to stay on his feet. His hyperventilating only grew worse. He had to find a paper bag as soon as possible.
He stumbled out of the dark bedroom and staggered his way to the kitchen, bumping against tables and hurting his trembling arms all along the way. Turning the light switch on, he found the object of his search and hastened to breathe into the bag with what little energy he had left. His breathing calmed down after a long while and he managed to grab a bottle of Paxil from the cupboard. After swallowing three pills at once without thinking twice, he forced his weary legs to move his panic-ridden body to the couch in the living room. He sat down with a loud thud, exhausted and still suffering from the trauma of re-living his past through yet another nightmare. He knew enough about insomnia and anxiety to understand he would not get any sleep this night. He occupied himself by reading the Al-Jazeera website and wallowing in the misery the war had brought to his country and to his family. *
Several hours later, his uncle walked into the living room. He glanced at Khalil, appearing frustrated but unsurprised by the sight of him sitting in front of his laptop at five o’clock in the morning.
“You’re up early. Have you had any sleep?”
“I got some sleep” Khalil muttered, unable to disguise the tinge of bitterness in his voice.
Hamid approached him and leaned his head over his nephew’s shoulder. He shook his head after determining the content of the website.
“Why do you torture yourself by reading the news all the time? You don’t live in Beirut anymore and there is nothing you can do about the war, yet all you do these days is watch the Arabic news channels and stare at pictures of destroyed buildings. All that does is upset you and yet you don’t do anything else.”
Khalil glared at his uncle, “What am I supposed to do? Sit here and pretend everything is okay? Do you want me to forget there is a war going on and my relatives are trapped in the middle of it?”
“You should not forget what’s happening, but it doesn’t do you any good to obsess over it as you have so far.”
“I’m not obsessing. I’m only doing what anyone else in my situation would do. Besides, I have to read the news to do my job.”
“You know, I was just like you when I first left Beirut. I wanted to know everything that was happening during the war. I would sit and watch the news all day. When reports said the fighting was dying down, I would get my hopes up. A few months later, the news would announce the war had started up again and I would get depressed. For years, I worried about what might happen to your father and his family. For years I felt guilty about leaving you all, but I finally realized how pointless all of that was. I learned to distance myself from the horrors of the war while still keeping my family foremost in my thoughts. It is not impossible. If I can do it, so can you.”
Khalil answered his uncle with silence. He refused to take unwanted advice and continued to read articles about the war in Lebanon. Hamid approached him and shook his head.
“You didn’t even listen to me, did you?” he asked with uncharacteristic irritation.
Khalil shrugged and kept reading. His uncle appeared to give up and walked towards the kitchen, muttering angry words along the way.
Fortunately for Khalil, the afternoon improved upon the terrible night and awful morning. Elizabeth’s loving presence helped him get through the day that was supposed to have been his long-awaited wedding day. The reminder of what could have been haunted him. He thought of his family and his heart ached over the suffering they must have endured instead of the celebration he had planned. As he started to succumb to severe disappointment, his darling Elizabeth walked into his bedroom and a few weights started lifting off of his shoulders.
“Hi” she said with a searching gaze and a soft smile.
“Hi” he whispered with only brief eye contact.
“Have you heard anything from your family?”
He shook his head.
She approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, habibi, you’re so sad all the time. It’s hard to see you this way. I want you to feel better and I’m doing everything I can to cheer you up, but it seems pointless when you’re suffering so much” she said with empathy shining in her eyes.
“Can you blame me for being sad today? We had it all planned out. We were going to be married and I was going to be the happiest man on the planet, but things didn’t really work out that way, did they?” he grumbled.
Elizabeth sighed and sat next to him on his bed. “No, I don’t blame you at all. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish I could see you smile again.”
He lifted his head and forced a smile. “Is this better?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. Your lips are smiling but your eyes are dead inside.”
He lowered his head, disappointed with his inability to please his beloved and frustrated with both himself and the world around him.
Elizabeth held his chin, lifted his head, and stared at him. “You look exhausted. Your eyes are bloodshot. When was the last time you had any sleep?”
He turned away from her. “I’ve been having nightmares again.”
“Was it the same one as before? The one about your friend’s murder?”
“No. This time it was me.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “They killed you?”
“Not exactly…I woke up before they pulled their triggers.”
“Oh…have you tried sleeping during the day?”
“I can’t sleep in the day.”
“But have you tried?”
“I can’t try. I have phone calls to make and work to do, okay?”
Elizabeth gave him a knowing smile, “Okay, but you don’t need to snap at me, you know.”
He blushed a little. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m having a terrible time these last couple days.”
“If there is anything more I can do to help…”
Khalil interrupted her, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “You’ve done so much for me all ready, Elizabeth. I don’t think there’s anything left for you to do. Just seeing you here is enough to make me feel a little better.”
“You still look sad when I’m around though.”
He grimaced, “You should see what I look like when you leave.”
“Should I stay longer?”
He lowered his eyes, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to burden you with all my problems and my miserable moods.”
Elizabeth laughed, “You don’t think you’ve done that all ready?”
He gave her a slight, wry smile in response. Elizabeth managed to keep a light conversation with him going until she had to leave. The rest of his day, unfortunately, did not recover from her absence.
As the days turned into weeks and the war continued unabated without any news of his relatives, Khalil fell into a depression deeper than he had ever felt before. He never slept. He ate little. He talked less than he ate. He started smoking again. He paid no attention to the conversations of his siblings except when they asked if he had heard anything from Ahmed. The answer was always no and the effect was always the same. Zahra would cry, Nasser would rant, Uncle Hamid would launch into another pep talk, and Sabreen would try to console Zahra while also nagging Khalil about something or other. Sa’id would visit when he could and tried to console his siblings, but his efforts did not accomplish much since he was also affected by the catastrophe in his homeland. Elizabeth came by the apartment every day and her visits became the only bright spot in Khalil’s day. Though the others tried, only Elizabeth could give him the comfort he needed. She was the one person he made an effort to talk to. Unlike his siblings, Elizabeth did not nag him and did not criticize his behavior. Instead, she made conversation when he wanted it. She sat next to him with a book in her hands when he preferred to read. She cooked for him and his family in order to give Sabreen a break. Sometimes, he would get so overwhelmed by the emotional rollercoaster his life had become that he needed a shoulder to lean on. Elizabeth would understand his feelings and would hold him in her arms for as long as he liked.
Each week, Khalil went through an astonishing variety of emotions as he immersed himself in the grim details of the war. The growing number of deaths and injuries reported with each newscast, the disintegration of blocks upon blocks of apartment buildings into piles upon piles of rubble, the destruction of crucial roads and bridges, the mass exodus of beleaguered refugees into Cyprus, Syria, or any country willing to accept them, the staining of the beautiful Lebanese coastline after fuel oil from a bombed power plant seeped into the Mediterranean sea and all the other tragedies of this new war blended with the horrors he had witnessed in the past.
He could not go a day without having a painful flashback. He could not watch the tanks fire their shells into the hills without remembering the hundreds of explosions he had witnessed as a child. In the dour days of his youth, he had been more interested in staring out the window at the city erupting before him than in finishing his homework. He could not see a photograph of a Hizbollah fighter with a rocket-launcher without remembering the red flares of the rockets as they soared one after another through the blackened, smoky sky. He could not go a week without having a panic attack. He could not sleep without hearing his boyhood screams.
This burden often became too much for him. He would lose the tight grip he usually held over his temper and allow rationality to cave to his emotions. At times, he would become so enraged by the events of the war and so consumed by hatred of the enemy that he gained a newfound sympathy for Ahmed. He wished he could go to the Israeli border, wave a Hizbollah flag before Israeli troops, and fight to save his country. Other times, his fury would turn against his own people. He would berate the residents of Lebanon and their corrupt leaders for refusing to learn from the violence of the past. He would also curse Hizbollah for acting as their own independent army by harboring their own weapons and provoking their neighbor into bringing another round of destruction upon their own country.
Fortunately for Khalil, his contradictory bouts of rage would hit their peaks and then decline into a puddle of resignation and despondency. Though he was depressed beyond measure, he had not allowed himself to cry. He called Ahmed at least three times a day, but each and every call had been in vain. He tried to contact his uncles, his aunts, his cousins yet he failed to reach any of them. His emails went unanswered. He exhausted himself in trying to get news of his loved ones, but steeled himself after every disappointment.
There came a time, however, when he could no longer bear the never-ending suspense. As he browsed through a Lebanese blog, he saw a photograph of a dead little boy who so strikingly resembled Ahmed in his younger years that his profound pain brought him to the edge of a nervous breakdown. Elizabeth happened to be sitting next to him at the time and she had him enfolded in her arms with his head rested against her shoulder in seconds. Sheltered in the compassionate embrace of the woman he loved, he yielded under the weight of his sorrow and wept harder and longer than he had ever cried in his entire life.
“What happened?” Elizabeth asked when he stopped weeping.
He sat up straight and pointed at the pictures on the computer screen. “This boy was killed when his apartment collapsed from an explosion. He lived in a neighborhood that is close to ours. This is a picture of his dead body and the one next to that is a picture of him when he was alive. He looks so much like Ahmed when he was around this boy’s age.”
He turned away from his laptop and gazed at Elizabeth. “I can’t lose him!” he said, his voice straining under the weight of his anxiety.
“You shouldn’t let yourself think that way. You can’t be pessimistic like that. You will drive yourself crazy” she said as she gave him a hug.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tight. “I know, but I can’t help it. I can’t handle this uncertainty anymore. It has been several weeks since the war started and I still don’t know where Ahmed is or how he is doing. I can’t bear another death in the family. I just can’t!” he exclaimed while bursting into sobs again. Elizabeth comforted him as he drained his eyes of all their tears.
Another agonizing week later, Khalil finally received the answer he had been too afraid to hope for. He was sitting in front of his laptop yet again when the ring of his cell phone interrupted his reading. He picked it up and was flabbergasted after recognizing the voice at the other end of the line.
“Ahmed? Am I hearing things? Could that really be you?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
Khalil leaned his back against the wall, thrust his head up towards the ceiling, and exhaled. He paused for a long moment before talking into the phone again.
“Are you okay? Where are you? Have you heard from the others? How is everybody?”
“I’m okay and so is everyone else. Uncle Muhammad and his family came here from Sur when the war first started. We are all living in a make-shift shelter at the moment. It’s crowded and we’re a bit short on food, but we’re all together and safe for now. We have had to dodge a lot of bombs while moving from one place to another, but, al-hamdu lillah, none of us has been injured yet.” **
Khalil breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Hamdu lillah…oh, but have you heard from Umm Kazi? Is she okay?”
“Yes, she and Uncle Rakim are fine. Baalbek has not been hit as hard as Beirut, so we don’t need to worry about them.”
“Why didn’t you and the others go there?”
“We couldn’t. They bombed the roads before we ever had the chance. Anyway, can I ask you something?”
“Ask me anything.”
“Why didn’t you come? We were all convinced you would find a way to get here and help us. We waited for you until the Israelis dropped leaflets in our neighborhood warning us to leave as soon as possible. I was so worried. I thought you would get here and be unable to find us…I don’t mean to say that I’m mad or anything. I don’t blame you for not coming. I’m glad you didn’t, because it’s too dangerous. It’s just that I was positive you would come and I can’t believe you didn’t.”
The guilt and resentment Khalil had felt ever since he had made the decision to stay in Los Angeles surged within him, but he tried to push such unwanted feelings aside.
“I had intended to go and help all of you, but…but someone that I really care about persuaded me to stay here.”
Ahmed laughed, “Wow! You listened to someone else? My brother, who happens to be the most stubborn man on the planet, actually let somebody change his mind? That’s amazing. So, who managed to achieve the impossible? Was it Sa’id?”
Khalil smiled, “No.”
“Who was it?”
“Guess.”
“Sorry, I don’t have much time to guess. Can you just tell me who it was? I really want to know.”
“Elizabeth.”
“What? I didn’t hear you.”
“It was Elizabeth.”
“Oh…eh…I guess I should have known…eh anyway, how are you? How is everybody? I hope everything is okay.”
“I’m fine and so are the others…we were all very worried about you.”
“Yeah, I figured you would be…by the way, about what happened before…I’m really sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I forgave you a long time ago.”
“I was wrong about you. I should never have listened to my friends. I had the perfect role model to look up to all these years and I was too damn blind to see it. I’m sorry, Khalil. I never gave you the credit you deserved, but I’ve learned my lesson now.”
“Good, don’t ever leave me like this again.”
“I won’t, I promise. As soon as this war ends, I’m getting on a flight to L.A. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you all!”
“We all missed you too.”
“Yeah? Even Nasser?”
Khalil laughed, “Yes, believe it or not, Nasser missed you very much.”
“Well, I should get going soon…but I do have some bad news. Our old apartment is gone. We left just in time. Had we stayed a few days longer we would have been killed when the entire building collapsed. It’s nothing but rubble now.”
Khalil’s heart plummeted. “Oh…so our cousins are homeless.”
“Yes, unfortunately, a lot of them are homeless now. I’m not sure what they’re going to do. They keep telling me not to worry about it and that they can take care of themselves, but I still feel so bad for them.”
“If you can tell me where they are staying before you leave Beirut, then I can send them money and food. I’ll send them plane tickets too so they can all come to the wedding. You’re coming to my wedding, I hope?”
“Oh, you’re not married yet? I thought the wedding was supposed…”
“I postponed it.”
“Oh…well, in that case…yeah! I’m definitely coming! I’m really looking forward to it. I hope everyone else in the family can come to. God knows they need something to celebrate!”
The next moment, Ahmed said farewell and Khalil hung up the phone. Though relieved to know his relatives were all well, he was grieved to learn the fate of his former apartment. The home he lived the vast majority of his life in was no more. All he had now were the lingering memories. He cheered himself up, however, with the reminder that an apartment building was the least important of all that he could have lost. ***
*Al-Jazeera is like the CNN of the Arab world.
**Al-hamdu lillah- Praise God.
***The July War of 2006 came to an end with a cease-fire between Israel and Hizbollah on August 14. It is estimated that the 34 day war resulted in the deaths of 1,125 Lebanese, and 159 Israelis, as well as thousands of injuries and millions of people displaced for both countries. All statistics were taken from the BBC news website.
Chapter Thirty Eight
~Part One~
Khalil felt exhausted. He had been cramming canned foods, clothes, toiletries, and anything else he thought could be useful into care packages to send to his family in Lebanon for the past few days. The hard work of gathering everything into piles, stuffing them into boxes, and then moving those heavy boxes around proved to be murder on his back and arms. He pushed on, however, with the aid of his conscience. Since he heard the bad news from Ahmed, thoughts of his homeless uncles, aunts, and cousins weighed on his mind so heavily that he could not rest until he had done something to aid them. In addition to sending as much money as he could afford, he decided to donate everything else he could do without to his relatives to help them begin a better life. His siblings had agreed to the plan and gave away their old clothes and generous parcels out of their hard-earned paychecks without hesitation.
Khalil was just about to seal the overstuffed cardboard boxes when he heard a knock on the door. He figured it was Elizabeth and felt a sharp pang of insecurity. The apartment was a terrible mess and so was he. Laziness in the morning had driven him to slap on an old t-shirt that was way too small and had all sorts of stains on it with a pair of worn out ill-fitting jeans to match. He had neglected to comb his thick, often unmanageable hair and he had not shaved. He knew he looked dreadful, but the knocking on the door followed by the ringing of the doorbell told him there was nothing he could do about it.
With his mind dwelling on his unfortunate appearance, he was caught off guard by the sight of Elizabeth appearing tired as well. His surprise kept him from giving her an appropriate greeting.
She gazed at him with obvious confusion. “I’m sorry. Did I come at a bad time?”
He shook himself out of his stupor and smiled. “Oh, no…sorry, I should have said hello. I, eh…I was distracted by other things…anyway, how are you? You look a little worn out.”
She sighed, “I’m more tired than I have any right to be…but I don’t want to get into that…I have a surprise for you” she said with an excited smile.
His eyebrows shot up, “Oh?”
He waited for her to say something else, but she stayed silent. His eyes widened and his jaw opened involuntarily, however, as she turned around and dragged in a cart full of boxes.
“What is…” he started to ask, but stopped when realization dawned on him. She had brought him care packages of her own! He had mentioned his plans to donate his belongings to his family to her earlier, but he had not expected her to respond in this way.
“Are you donating all this?” he asked with his jaw still hanging open from surprise.
She gave him a triumphant smile and nodded. “These three boxes are from me, those two big ones are Jennifer’s, that small one is from Marianne…she couldn’t give anymore because she had to go back to school so she had less time to pack than the rest of us, this one is from my mom, the one next to it is from my dad and the rest are all from Leah and Katie. I think we managed to cover just about everything you could think of, shoes, dresses, evaporated milk, plastic forks and spoons, tupperware, t-shirts, canned goods, jeans, toilet paper, pajamas, blow-driers, towels, brushes, and even make-up. Whether they use it or not, Leah insisted on buying a bunch of make-up for the women in your family, because no woman in this world deserves to be deprived of eye-liner and mascara.”
A slow smile crept its way onto his lips and must have shined in his eyes when Elizabeth finished speaking. He placed his hands on her cheeks and gazed at her in utter amazement.
“Thank you” he whispered, hoping his facial expression would convey the depths of his awe and gratitude better than his words.
She blushed and lowered her eyes. “You have nothing to thank me for. The clothes are in good condition and the accessories still work, but they are all pretty old and none of us really need them anymore. Besides, this is the least I can do for you and your family.” she said in a low voice.
With that response, there was nothing left for Khalil to do but kiss his fiancé senseless.
“I love you. Let’s get married in two weeks” he said as soon as he drew away from her.
She giggled, “I love you too and I would love to be married sooner rather than later, but I need more time than that to finish planning everything.”
“What is their left to plan? We’re having the ceremony and the reception at Chad’s house so we don’t need to book a church or a banquet hall. The imam and the priest are both still willing to perform the service. What else is there to do?”
“There is a lot left to do! I have to re-order all the flowers, arrange for another wedding cake since we canceled the last one, buy and send out another batch of invitations, and…”
Khalil cut of her off with a roll of his eyes, “Ay, habibti, I don’t care about flowers and wedding cakes and all of that. I just want to marry you. Please, don’t make me wait another three months” he ended with his most persuasive pout.
“Well, we still can’t get married so soon. Your relatives will have to buy tickets and I doubt they can get them for the week after next on such short notice.”
He smiled, “I all ready ordered tickets for them online. My cousin emailed me yesterday and said they will be arriving next week.”
Elizabeth looked flabbergasted as her case for a prolonged engagement grew weaker and weaker.
“But what about the flowers and the cake and…”
“Ya Allah, stop worrying about the stupid flowers…listen if it means that much to you, I can have Sabreen help you with the planning. She’s good at this stuff and she knows a lot of talented people. She can pick out different things and let you choose one of them. That way, I’m sure you can have everything arranged within two weeks.”
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and smirked, “You figured this out all ahead of time, didn’t you?”
“You know what they say, impatience leads to genius.”
Elizabeth laughed, “Nobody says that. You just made it up!”
He shrugged his shoulders. “So? It’s better than men are from mars, women are from venus.”
Elizabeth continued laughing at him, but he didn’t mind. He had managed to get his way in convincing her to marry him sooner and that was all that mattered.
The next few days passed by in a flurry and the day of Ahmed’s return to Los Angeles arrived. Ahmed had called a second time and said he was so eager to see his brothers and sisters and be home again that he decided to come a week before the rest of their relatives in Lebanon. That afternoon, the Hassan family’s small yet comfortable apartment was filled with hustle and bustle. Sabreen had planned a favorite home-cooked meal to celebrate Ahmed’s return home and Khalil had invited Elizabeth’s family as well as their mutual friends Richard and Samantha to join him and his siblings.
After finishing his work for the day, he entered the kitchen to find Elizabeth struggling to make dolma while Sabreen and Zahra whipped off a batch of the grape leaves stuffed with a mixture of rice, chickpeas, olive oil, and spices without batting an eyelash. Sabreen was smiling and Zahra was focused on her work, but Elizabeth looked beyond frazzled. The contrast in the facial expressions of the three lovely young women painted such an interesting picture of domesticity that Khalil could not stop himself from laughing as he approached them.
Elizabeth turned around and gave him an irritated frown, “What’s so funny?”
He looked at the hideous dolma poor Elizabeth had been working so hard on and continued chuckling, though he knew better.
“Your dolma is lop-sided.”
She rolled her eyes and held a leaf up to his face, “You should try wrapping one of these extra thin leaves into a perfect cylindrical shape instead of standing there and making fun of me!”
He smirked and grabbed the grape leaf from her hand, unfurled the edges, smoothed it down, spooned the rice mixture right into the middle, and rolled the leaf into a perfect cigar-shape while laughing at his fiance’s shocked expression.
Sabreen patted Elizabeth’s shoulder and said, “This isn’t the first time he has done this. He used to help mama make dolma all the time.”
Elizabeth turned away from him and took another leaf.
“I suck at this” she despaired as the leaf in her hand ripped apart before she could stuff it.
“No you don’t” Zahra replied.
“It’s only your first time. You’ll get better, trust me. You just need more practice” Sabreen comforted.
“You’re doing fine. I was just teasing you, Princess” Khalil said as he swiped one of the dolmas off of Zahra’s plate and plopped it into his mouth.
“Ew, don’t eat that! It’s still raw!” Sabreen exclaimed.
“So what? It’s good! I like raw dolma” he replied with his mouth still full.
“You’re disgusting!” Sabreen teased as Zahra and Elizabeth giggled.
Khalil stole another raw dolma and laughed until his finicky sister shooed him away from the kitchen. An hour or so later, the siblings rushed into the living room at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Khalil opened the door to find Ahmed standing behind it.
He had lost a lot of weight and he looked tired, but his smile was bright. Without saying a word, he gave his older brother a hug. Khalil chuckled in surprise and held his brother tight as a rush of relief and warmth tunneled through him.
“Welcome home.”
Ahmed grinned, “Thanks. It’s good to be back.”
Khalil stepped aside and allowed his sisters to overwhelm Ahmed with fierce embraces. When the girls were done greeting him, Ahmed approached Nasser with some hesitation and held out his hand. Nasser, however, shook his head and refused to take his brother’s hand. Khalil frowned at the unmistakable look of disappointment in Ahmed’s eyes, but before he could scold Nasser, the boy pulled Ahmed into a hug.
“I’m sorry” Ahmed mumbled.
Nasser patted him on the back, “It’s all right. I’m glad you’re home.”
Ahmed grinned and moved on to give Sa’id, Maryam, and Uncle Hamid hugs as well. The only one left for Ahmed to greet was Elizabeth and she gazed at him with a genuine yet shy smile. Khalil felt a wave of anxiety stir up as he watched Ahmed approach her and stare at her for a moment.
“Hi. It’s great to see you again. I’m glad to know you’re okay” Elizabeth said.
Ahmed smiled, “I don’t remember you being so shy.”
Elizabeth giggled, “Sorry. I don’t mean anything bad by it.”
Ahmed surprised everyone by reaching his arms out towards her with a grin. Though her eyes had widened and her eyebrows were raised, Elizabeth didn’t miss a beat and gave Ahmed a hug.
As he approached the two of them, Khalil heard Ahmed say “I’m sorry about how I treated you before. I hope you will forgive me. I’ll be glad to have you as a sister. Thank you for all the stuff you and your family sent. You have no idea how happy my teenage cousins were to see all those clothes. They loved the make-up too. All my relatives were so excited to get all these gifts from America and to know that they had not been forgotten. It really meant a lot to them.”
“I forgive you and you’re welcome” Elizabeth murmured before the doorbell rang. Her family and friends filed into the apartment and they greeted Ahmed as well. Sabreen then announced that dinner was ready.
Khalil felt more than satisfied with the way the reunion with Ahmed had gone so far as he took a seat next to Elizabeth. He stayed silent or whispered in Elizabeth’s ear for the most part as the others broke into several different conversations. He heard Mrs. Benton compliment Sabreen on her cooking and ask for the recipe of dolma. Sabreen managed to give her the recipe with a straight face, but Khalil caught her snicker when Mrs. Benton was no longer looking in her direction. He was pleased to see Ahmed engaged in a conversation with Sa’id, Maryam, Jennifer, and Chad. It sounded as though the two couples exchanged opinions on marriage while Ahmed listened and added a comment or two now and then. Nasser and Zahra were talking to Leah and Katie about the latest movies they had seen while Elizabeth, Sabreen, Marianne, and Mrs. Benton discussed cooking.
Richard, however, brought all of the conversations to a halt by standing up with a bottle of wine in his hand.
“David, I’d like to make a toast if you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.”
Richard opened the bottle of red wine and started pouring it for the members of the Benton family. As he leaned across the table, Sabreen held out a glass and asked him to pour her some. He hesitated and glanced at Khalil with a worried frown.
Sabreen gazed up at Richard with a smirk, “It’s okay. I don’t practice.”
“Oh…are you sure it’s okay? Because one time I…”
Khalil laughed, “Rick, don’t worry about it. I won’t bite your head off, I promise.”
“Hey, can you pour me some too? I don’t practice either” Nasser said.
“Nice try, Nas, but you can’t drink alcohol” Khalil warned.
“Why not? I’m even less religious than Sabreen!”
“That doesn’t matter. You’re not twenty-one yet.”
“Oh, man! Are you really going to make me wait until I’m twenty-one? They don’t enforce age limits for alcohol in Lebanon, you know.”
“I know, but you don’t live in Lebanon anymore. You’re not drinking anything until you’re twenty-one, understand?”
Nasser nodded, but crossed his arms and pouted afterwards. There was an obvious need for a change of subject while Richard continued to pour wine for everyone. Khalil was trying to come up with a neutral topic when his intentions were foiled by one of Elizabeth’s sisters. Katie and Leah had been whispering to each other after Richard brought out the alcohol and they seemed to be prepared to express their whispers to the rest of the table.
“I was wondering...for Muslims, if you don’t practice, does that mean like you don’t pray all the time and stuff but you’re like still Muslim or does it mean like you’re not Muslim at all?” Katie asked with evident curiosity and confusion.
“It means you’re a cultural Muslim. If your father is Muslim, then you are considered Muslim whether you pray or not. That is, unless you renounce the faith or convert to another religion, then you will be an apostate” Ahmed answered.
Nasser continued the discussion, “We all know the traditions and history of our religion to a certain extent, but only Ahmed reads the Quran and follows all the rules. See, when I was six and Zahra was five, Khalil took us to a mosque and he taught us all about Shia Islam, which was our dad’s religion…he talked about the Prophet and his cousin Ali and how Ali was killed and the Sunnis usurped his rightful throne and all that and he explained the holidays and then he listed all the rules like how to pray and what we can’t eat and all that stuff. So, at the end of all that, I asked him if I had to follow all those rules and go to a mosque a lot and pray all the time and he said, ‘No, not if you don’t want to. I’m not going to force you to practice,’ so I said that I don’t want to and he was like, ‘okay, whatever, but celebrate the holidays because dad always celebrated them’ so I agreed to participate on holidays …and that was pretty much the last time I ever talked to Khalil about religion.”
“Yeah, dad did the same thing for me when I was a kid. None of us really practice Islam except for Ahmed” Sabreen said.
“What are you talking about? I practice!” Khalil exclaimed.
“No, you don’t. You made up your own version of Islam and you practice that instead” Sa’id replied.
Ahmed laughed, “Khalil practices Islam like Elizabeth speaks Arabic!”
Sa’id, Nasser, Sabreen, Zahra, and even Uncle Hamid erupted into laughter while poor Elizabeth turned crimson from embarrassment.
Khalil was incensed. He slammed his hand down on the table, “Oh, you’re really going to get it!” He stood up and chased Ahmed out of the apartment.
Ahmed ran around yelling “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me” until Khalil caught him and held him in a head lock.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Khalil let him go. Ahmed stared at him, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, honest! It just slipped out!”
“Fine, I forgive you. Now go tell Elizabeth the same thing.”
“What Ahmed and Sa’id meant was that Khalil doesn’t practice exactly the way a Muslim is supposed to. He follows about half the rules and ignores the ones he doesn’t like” Sabreen explained to Katie while Khalil and Ahmed walked back into the room.
Ahmed apologized to Elizabeth and Elizabeth forgave him despite her embarrassment. She then turned to Khalil and asked,
“Is my Arabic really that bad?”
The truth was that she could not speak Arabic very well, but she understood it perfectly. She had trouble pronouncing the many sounds in the Arabic language that were not found in English and Spanish. It was not her fault, however. Her vocal chords were not trained to voice sounds she had not learned to make as a child. Despite her imperfect enunciation, Khalil enjoyed speaking in Arabic with her. He sometimes could not find the right words to use in English so it was wonderful to be able to express himself to her in his native language.
“No. You’re Arabic is wonderful. Don’t listen to Ahmed and the others. They’re being stupid snobs.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand, making Khalil sigh with relief. Richard made his toast and the rest of the dinner went very well. Sabreen had shown Elizabeth her plans for the wedding and the results were as great as Khalil had hoped for. Elizabeth loved Sabreen’s ideas and became even more excited about the wedding. She stayed behind after her family left to further discuss the wedding details with Sabreen. Khalil was trying to figure out a way to get Elizabeth away from his chatterbox of a sister so that he could be alone with her for a while when Ahmed beat him to it.
“Elizabeth…sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you in private?”
“Sure.”
Elizabeth stood up, but Ahmed did not leave the room. Instead, he approached Khalil and asked him to come as well.
“Let’s go to my room” he said and led the way. Khalil followed his brother with no little apprehension. He had no idea what Ahmed would wish to discuss with him and Elizabeth in private. He worried it might not be a nice conversation.
Ahmed closed the door and walked over to where his luggage had been placed. He pulled out a large, wrapped rectangular box and handed it to Elizabeth.
“This is your wedding gift. I wanted to give it to you in private and I thought now would be the perfect time. I hope you like it.”
Elizabeth sighed, “Aw, you didn’t have to get me a present! Thank you.”
“Go ahead, open it.”
Elizabeth unwrapped the gift to find a very life-like portrait of Khalil in a wooden frame staring back at her. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes staring in awed fascination at the painting.
“Oh, this is beautiful! Thank you so much! I can’t believe you made this for me! I thought you didn’t do human portraits” she said and gave Ahmed a hug.
He reddened a little, “I don’t, but…well, I don’t think I’ll burn in hell just for breaking a rule that isn’t made clear in the Quran” he replied with a nervous laugh.
He then went back to his luggage and pulled out another present. “This one is for you” he said as he handed a similar gift to his brother.
Khalil took off the wrapping and stared at its contents in disbelief. It was an amazing representation of Elizabeth that captured the essence of her beauty as well as her vibrant personality. He was overcome with awe, shock, and gratitude. He knew he should say something, but all he could do was gaze at the portrait in admiration. He managed to tear his eyes away from the painting long enough to see Ahmed’s frown.
“Do you like it?”
He smiled, trying to find the right words to express how much he loved the gift. In the end, all he could come up with was, “It’s perfect, thank you.”
Ahmed grinned and took both pictures. He held them side by side and said, “Look, the backgrounds match and everything. I painted them in the exact same style…they go together.”
Elizabeth gazed at Khalil, and then glanced at Ahmed, “Yes, they’re a perfect match!”
Ahmed nodded his head and started walking out of the room, but Khalil stopped him. He put his arm around his brother’s shoulder and squeezed it. Ahmed smiled and the three of them left the room together.
~Part Two~
The night before his wedding, Khalil had planned something special for Elizabeth. He invited her over for dinner, but neglected to tell her he had asked his siblings and uncle to spend the night with Sa’id and Maryam so the two of them could be alone. Though he had never cooked a true meal before, he thought it would be romantic if he made dinner for Elizabeth. He borrowed a favorite recipe of hers from his future-mother-in-law and followed her instructions to the best of his ability. He hoped he had not messed it up. He hated the idea of humiliating himself on the night before his wedding.
After placing the lasagna in the oven, he put candles all around the living room, on the dining table, in each bedroom, and even in the bathrooms. After lighting each candle, he turned off all the lights. He then put a bouquet of lavender roses on the dining table.
As the hour of Elizabeth’s arrival approached, he started to get restless with nervous energy. The apartment was stone silent without his siblings around. It was strange to hear the clarity of his own thoughts, as though he were speaking to himself out loud. His mind was occupied with both anxiety and anticipation. He worried he had gone overboard with the candles and the soft music in the background and all the other sappy stuff he had arranged for the evening. He had never been a romantic and despite being in a relationship with Elizabeth for almost a year, he still was unsure of himself in that capacity.
All of his doubts flew out the window, however, when he saw Elizabeth walk in with an astonished yet pleased look on her face. He approached her and pulled her into his arms. She giggled and kissed him.
“Where is everybody?”
“I banished them” he answered with a grin.
She laughed, “For the whole night?”
He smiled, “Yes.”
He took her hand and led her to the kitchen. Her eyes shone with delight as he took out the lasagna he had made.
“Aww, you cooked for me!”
“Yeah...I wouldn’t get so excited if I were you. I’m not much of a chef and I never will be.”
Elizabeth smiled, “That’s okay. It was very sweet of you to try even if it doesn’t turn out to be good.”
He pulled up a chair for her and watched her sit down with a sense of dread. She took a slice of the lasagna and tasted it. She then put her fork down and looked up at him with a smile.
“This is good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
He tasted it for himself. It was not bad, not as good as when Elizabeth made it, but at least it tasted okay enough. He let out a sigh of relief. When they finished eating, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him and gave him a sweet kiss.
“Thank you for doing this. It’s very wonderful and romantic of you.”
He blushed, “You’re welcome.”
They sat side by side on the couch. He enfolded her in his arms and she rested her head against his chest.
“Stay with me for the night. I won’t be able to sleep and I don’t want to be here all alone.”
Elizabeth frowned at him, “Why won’t you sleep? Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“No, I’m too excited to sleep…what about you? Are you nervous or excited?”
“I was a little nervous earlier, but now I’m excited” she said with a smile.
“Elizabeth” he said after a long pause.
“Hmm?”
“Tell me you love me.”
“Ana bhibbak.”
He sighed and trailed kisses across her neck.
“Did I say that right?”
“You said it perfectly” he answered and kissed her again, but this time on her lips.
“David…David…hey, stop for a moment” she said with a giggle.
He drew away from her with no little annoyance. “What?”
“Before we get married, promise me something.”
“I’ll promise you anything.”
“Please talk to a doctor.”
He blinked, unhappy about this turn of the conversation. “I don’t need a doctor. I have you.”
“David, I love you, but I can only help you a little. I can’t cure your insomnia. I can’t stop you from having panic attacks. You can’t expect miracles from me.”
“But I’m getting better! I slept five hours last night, I didn’t have a single nightmare since two weeks ago and I haven’t had a panic attack in two weeks either.”
“You’re not getting better. If another crisis happened, you would have panic attacks and flashbacks again. Habibi, please see a doctor. You need help. You can’t go on having panic attacks and flashbacks and insomnia for the rest of your life. I don’t ever want to see you suffering as much as you were a few weeks ago.”
Khalil could not remain steadfast in the face of such an emotional plea. “Okay. I promise I will go to a doctor and talk about my problems.”
“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek and leaned her head against his chest. They spent the night holding each other and discussing all the hopes and dreams they had for their future together.
Khalil woke up to find his fiancée sleeping in his arms. He smiled and pushed a lock of her hair away from her eyes.
“Princess…Princess, wake up.”
Elizabeth opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.
“We’re getting married today.”
“Yes…oh! What time is it? Oh God, I have to go! I have to start getting ready!”
“It’s only eight-thirty.”
“But I have so much to do. Sabreen is going to come over at ten to dye my hair with henna. I have to go. Bye, habibi. I’ll see you in a few hours” she said as she picked up her purse and rushed out of the room.
A few hours later, Khalil stood in the backyard of Nathaniel Field in rapt anticipation. He had expected to feel nervous, but he had no idea the wait before the ceremony would be so excruciating. He reminded himself, however, that he should have known better considering Sabreen was in charge of Elizabeth’s hair and make-up. The henna alone would take a while to finish plus everything that must come afterwards and Sabreen would spend just as much time chatting with Elizabeth as she would be helping her. He wondered how long he could wait before he lost his sanity.
Khalil and Elizabeth had decided to have an outdoor wedding at Chad’s house, since it was where they had first met each other. They had also agreed to combine aspects of both Islamic and Catholic wedding traditions into their ceremony. The men of both families, therefore, were gathered outside with the groom, the imam, and the priest, while the women waited inside.
The Islamic service was short and simple. The Imam read a few passages from the Quran. Then, under the imam’s supervision, Khalil presented a written marriage contract which included the amount of money he planned to settle upon his bride and other such details to Mr. Benton. Mr. Benton acted as a representative for Elizabeth and read the contract, which Khalil had discussed with Elizabeth before the wedding. The imam asked for approval of the contract from both parties, which they both gave readily. The imam then delivered a short sermon and announced Khalil to be a married man.
Once the Islamic part of the service was over, the catholic priest took his place in front of Khalil and Mr. Benton went inside to bring out the bride. The women of both families walked out of the house and took their seats outdoors. After everyone was seated, the music started and the ring-bearer (who was Mr. and Mrs. Giovanni’s young son) marched down the make-shift aisle towards the make-shift altar. The flower girl came next, then the bridesmaids (Sabreen, Zahra, Leah, and Katie) and groomsmen (Nasser, Ahmed, Richard, and Chad), then Jennifer (the maid of honor) and Sa’id (the best man) and then everyone stood up for the arrival of the bride.
Khalil took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he felt himself to be calm, he opened his eyes and directed his gaze to the entrance of the backyard. Mr. Benton walked out, stopped halfway, and then turned around. A moment later, Elizabeth came outside.
The sense of calm Khalil thought he had attained disintegrated as he stared in wonder at the beautiful bride striding towards him. A strange mixture of emotions took hold of him. He felt both overjoyed and paralyzed by love. An overwhelming sense of gratitude swept over him as she gazed into his eyes and smiled. He felt so fortunate and yet so undeserving to have such a lovely, good-natured, and vivacious woman in his life. He felt his eyes sting with tears as he thought of all she had done for him in the past two years. Despite his emotions, he never broke his contact with her glowing eyes. Her smile, her dress, her manner of walking, her beaming countenance, everything about her was perfect.
As she drew closer to where he stood waiting, Khalil was not surprised to find that her eyes were teary as well. He smiled and took her hand as she stood next to him. For some unknown reason, his touch disturbed her equilibrium. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gazed at him. He held her face and wiped the tears away with his fingers, making her blush and lower her head.
A cough from the priest guided the young couple’s attention in his direction and he began a traditional Catholic service. Elizabeth beamed and shed another tear or two during the ceremony. Though his emotions were powerful and tears continued to sting in the back of his eyes, Khalil maintained a calm demeanor.
When the priest announced them as man and wife, however, he lifted Elizabeth up and held her tight for several minutes. She shed even more tears of joy in his arms and he allowed his tears to fall as well. When he recovered his senses, he kissed his wife and the two of them proceeded to pose for pictures while everyone except the bridal party went to the banquet hall for the reception.
Khalil and Elizabeth hugged their closest relatives and accepted their warm congratulations. When finished with the photographs, they entered the banquet hall of Nathaniel Field and received a standing ovation. Their first dance was a slow one. Khalil had picked a song that both he and Elizabeth cherished. He held her close and sang the words of Khaled’s song “Aisha” as she stared at him with uninhibited devotion.
Comme si je n'existais pas,
As if I don't exist
elle est passée à côté de moi
She was passing by me
Sans un regard, reine de Saba,
With no regard, the Queen of Sheeba
j'ai dit, Aïcha, prends, tout est pour toi
I said, Aisha, take this, all of it is for you
Voici, les perles, les bijoux,
Here, the pearls, the jewels,
aussi l'or autour de ton cou
also the gold around your neck
Les fruits, biens mûrs au goût de miel,
The fruits, well ripe with the taste of honey
ma vie, Aicha si tu m'aimes!
And my life, Aisha if you love me!
J'irai où ton souffle nous mène,
I will go where your breath leads me,
dans les pays d'ivoire et d’ébène
In the countries of ivory and ebony
J'effacerais tes larmes, tes peines,
I will erase your tears, your sorrows
rien n'est trop beau pour une si belle
Nothing is too beautiful for a girl so beautiful
Aïcha, Aïcha écoute-moi,
Aisha, Aisha listen to me
Aïcha, Aïcha t'en vas pas,
Aisha, Aisha don't go
Aïcha, Aïcha regarde moi,
Aisha, Aisha look at me
Aïcha, Aïcha reponds-moi
Aisha, Aisha answer me
Je dirais les mots les poèmes,
I would say the words, the poems
je jouerais les musiques du ciel,
I would play the music of the sky
je prendrais les rayons du soleil,
I would take the rays of the sun
pour élairer tes yeux de rêves
to light up your dreamy eyes
Oooh! Aïcha, Aïcha écoute-moi,
Aïcha, Aïcha t'en vas pas
Elle a dit: "Garde tes trésors,
She said: "Keep your treasures,
moi, je vaux mieux que tout ça.
Me, I'm worth more than that.
Des barreaux sont des barreaux même en or
Bars are still bars even if made of gold.
Je veux les mêmes droits que toi
I want the same rights as you
Et du respect pour chaque jour,
and respect for each day,
moi je ne veux que l'amour"
Me I want only love."
Switches to Arabic…
Nbrik Aicha ou nmout allik
I want you Aisha and I'd die for you
'Hhadi kisat hayati wa habbi
You are master of my life and my love
Inti omri wa inti hayati
You are my years and my life
Tmanit niich maake ghir inti
I hope to live with you, only you
When the song ended, Elizabeth lifted her head towards his face and whispered, “I love you.”
He grinned and whispered back, “Ana bhibbik, habibti.”
He was left unable to say more. The band changed the music to Arabic and his brothers, uncles, and cousins launched into a debke. Khalil and Elizabeth laughed and cheered them on. They spent the rest of the night eating Lebanese food and dancing to Arabic music. Elizabeth had wanted a Middle Eastern style reception almost as much as he did and she immersed herself into the dancing and celebrating as though she had been brought up with it her whole life.
By the time the reception was over, it was seven a.m. in the morning. Khalil was tired from all the dancing and shouting, but he was bursting with uncontainable happiness. His siblings, however, appeared to be feeling just the opposite.
Sabreen approached him with teary eyes, “So I guess this is goodbye then.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m leaving you completely. I will visit you all often. I promise.”
“I’m going to miss you so much!” Sabreen said as she gave him a fierce hug.
He embraced and bid farewell to his brothers and his uncle next. They took his departure from the family better than Sabreen did. Zahra, however, was the least able to remain calm. As soon as he approached her to say goodbye, she broke into tears.
He wrapped his arms around her, “Habibti, don’t cry. I’m not leaving for good. I’ll only be ten minutes away.”
“I know, but it won’t be the same” she said through her sobs.
He waited for her to stop crying, and then said “Ma’asalama” to everyone but Elizabeth.
“Ma’asalama” his relatives replied. *
Elizabeth said goodbye to her family as well and the newlyweds headed to Elizabeth’s apartment, which would now be their home. Elizabeth was so exhausted she fell asleep in the car. Khalil picked her up and carried her to their bedroom without waking her up. He laid her down on their bed, covered her with the blanket, and kissed her forehead. He then lay down next to her and counted his blessings.
*Go in Peace (Goodbye)
Khalas (The End)