Zara Hossain Is Here

by Sabina Khan

  On the third morning, Nick calls to say that the reporters have all left. They’ve pestered all our neighbors with no success, and seeing no signs of our return, they’ve moved on to the next story.

  As we’re getting ready to head back to Corpus, Senator Delgado asks us to stay for lunch.

  “I may have some good news for you,” she says over salad and grilled salmon. “I may have a way for Zara to stay. But I didn’t want to say anything until it was all approved, in case it fell through.”

  My face lights up, and I almost jump up to hug her. But I manage to restrain myself.

  “Dr. Hossain, I have a proposition for you,” she says. “If you are interested, I’d like to bring you on as my campaign’s private physician. We’ll be hitting the road for the midterms very soon, and I would be honored to have a health professional with your level of experience on hand for the team. Fully sponsored, of course.”

  We stare at her in stunned silence.

  “Well, don’t all of you speak at once,” she says with a smile.

  “May we have some time to think about it?” Abbu finally manages to say.

  “Of course, please take some time to talk it over,” she says, bustling out of the room when one of her assistants knocks on the door.

  We don’t say much during the car ride home, not wanting to talk about this in front of the driver. But as soon as we enter our house, I can’t hold it in any longer.

  “So?” I ask with the biggest smile on my face. “Isn’t this perfect?”

  Ammi smiles and gives me a big hug. “It is very good news, beta. But—”

  “But nothing, Ammi. Please, this would solve all our problems.”

  “Does it really, Zara? Think about what you’re saying.”

  “Actually, beta,” Abbu says quietly, “nothing has changed. A short time ago, I was shot. And now we’ve been chased out of our own home by reporters because of a bomb threat that some lunatic planned with our family in mind. My family. Do you get that, Zara?” His voice has risen until he’s nearly shouting the last part, and I cringe. Abbu has rarely ever raised his voice at me or Ammi.

  “Please, Zara,” Ammi says. “Your father has been through enough. We’ve all been through enough, and I don’t know how much more I can take.”

  In that moment, I realize just how selfish I’ve been lately, and I’m instantly overcome with guilt.

  “I’m sorry, Abbu,” I say, putting my arms around his middle. “I’ve just been so caught up in my own stuff.”

  “I understand, beta,” Abbu says, stroking my hair, all signs of anger gone. “I know it’ll be a big sacrifice for you if you come back with us.”

  “But we simply cannot stand to be here any longer,” Ammi says.

  I know there’s nothing I can say to convince them otherwise, so I don’t say anything. Ammi resumes her packing and Abbu goes to take a nap, so I decide to go over to Nick’s to pick up Zorro.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick says as soon as he opens the door.

  “Senator Delgado offered Abbu a job so that we could all stay, but my parents still want to leave,” I say.

  “Are you serious?” He hands me Zorro’s leash as we start walking toward Cole Park.

  “I wish I wasn’t,” I say. “They’re just so adamant about leaving, they won’t even listen to me.”

  “But this would literally solve all your problems, right?”

  “Exactly. And I know it’s been so hard and terrifying, what happened, but still. I wish they’d see my side of things.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Nick says.

  “I have no idea,” I say with a big sigh. “If Abbu’s visa doesn’t get extended, then there’s no way I can stay.”

  “There has to be some way to convince your parents,” he says. “I’ll get mine to talk to them.”

  “I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

  * * *

  Back at home, we have company. It’s Shireen Khala, and I’ve never been happier to see anyone in my life.

  When I walk in, she’s chatting with Ammi and Abbu over tea and dessert.

  “Iqbal Bhai, if the senator is giving you this opportunity, then you have to take it,” she says. I could kiss her. “Why are you even thinking about it?”

  “It’s not that simple, Shireen,” Abbu says. “After everything that’s happened, I don’t know how we’d ever feel safe here again.”

  “These days nowhere is really safe,” she says. “Do you think you won’t be in any danger in Pakistan? There is so much political instability there—how can you be sure it’s any better?”

  “At least we’ll be among our friends and family,” Ammi says.

  “You have family here, Nilufer Baji,” Shireen Khala says gently. “I am your family. Isabella and John are your family.”

  “Yes, of course,” Abbu says. “But we shouldn’t have to feel like we constantly have a target on our backs.”

  “But what about Zara? Do you think she’ll be safe over there? If anyone finds out she’s queer, she could be in grave danger. You know this.”

  “She doesn’t have to tell anyone over there,” Ammi says. “Shireen, this is a personal matter.”

  “Do you honestly think it won’t come out eventually? What if she meets someone and wants to get married? Then what?”

  Ammi and Abbu are both silent. They have no good answer to this question. It’s one I haven’t been able to ask them, because much as I’m desperate to stay, I don’t want to force them to if they’re going to be unhappy.

  Shireen Khala turns to Abbu. “Iqbal Bhai, you only have to do this until you all get your green cards. After that, if you and Baji still want, you can go back. But at least Zara will be off at some Ivy League university by then. If you leave now, you’re risking her future.”

  Abbu looks at me, his eyes welling up. “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt her future, Shireen. She’s my only child, and I would do anything for her. But I’m afraid these people will come after us again. And what if she was the one who got shot? What if she’s at home next time they come to our house? How am I supposed to keep her safe?” He breaks down in sobs, and I can’t bear it. I run to him and cradle him in my arms like a child. Ammi is right next to me crying too.

  “Abbu, it’s okay,” I say to him softly, wiping his tears. “You don’t have to stay here for me. I’ll come with you, and I’ll get into a good college in Karachi. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  He’s shaking his head. “Nahin, beta, I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s okay, Abbu. It’s not worth losing our peace of mind over.”

  “What kind of father lets his own child sacrifice her future for her parents?” He looks at me, and there is so much pain in his eyes that I would do anything to make it go away. Having to go to a school in a different country is nothing compared to seeing my parents suffer like this. I won’t be the reason my parents can’t sleep at night.

  “Nahin, Zara,” Ammi says. “Abbu is right. We can take measures to stay safe. We can put in a security system and whatever else we have to do to feel safe. And Shireen is right. After we get our green cards and you’ve gone away to college, we can go back if we still want.”

  “But, Ammi, what about—”

  “Nothing, beta.” Ammi is adamant now. “I became so consumed with my own fears that I forgot what is most important to us.”

  “After all, we came to this country to give you a better future,” Abbu says. “So how can we leave now, when it’s so close? You’ve worked so hard all your life, Zara. We couldn’t ask for a more perfect daughter, so we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you accomplish everything you want.”

  Now I’m the one who’s sobbing uncontrollably. As always, my parents will do anything for my happiness, and I can never repay them. All I can do is make them as proud as I can and make sure I don’t squander the opportunities they’ve given me.

  Even Shireen Khala has tears running down her cheek
s, although she’s smiling.

  “I just came here for some chai and your delicious cookies, Nilufer Baji. Now I feel like I’m in the middle of a Bollywood movie.”

  Abbu walks over to her and bends to kiss her forehead.

  “Shireen, I have to hand it to you,” he says with a broad smile. “You’re a really great lawyer, haan. You even convinced your stubborn older brother to see reason.”

  “Iqbal Bhai, you’re embarrassing me,” Shireen Khala says. “In this country, you all are my family. I only want the best for you.”

  I step forward and give her a tight hug.

  “Thank you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “You know I always have your back, Zara,” she whispers in reply.

  “Okay, so it’s decided,” Abbu says. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll call Senator Delgado to accept her offer, and Zara can help us unpack all these boxes.” He smiles at me, and it’s as if a huge weight has been lifted off me.

  I can’t wait to tell Nick and Chloe, but I’m suddenly exhausted, the stress of the last few days finally sinking in. And the more I think about it, the more it doesn’t feel right. My parents are doing this for me; they’re going against their own best interest. And that is something I’m not sure I can live with. I rack my brain for a solution that will work for us all, but deep in the pit of my stomach, I worry there’s really no such possibility.

  The next few days pass in sort of a haze as I vacillate between being relieved there is light at the end of the tunnel and feeling guilty because that light will bring my parents pain and discomfort. I know Abbu only agreed to accept the offer for my sake, and I cannot watch my father swallow his pride and work for the senator, knowing that all the hard work and dedication he put into his practice of the last fourteen years of his life meant nothing. I cannot bear for him to look at himself in the mirror and feel anything other than pride in what he’s doing. And I cannot live with myself, knowing that just for me my mother chose to stay in a country where she’ll be afraid every time her husband steps out the door. Where someone could be waiting in the shadows, ready to tear it all down again.

  Sure, I’d get to be around my friends for the rest of senior year and live the life I want, but at what cost?

  I find myself lying to everyone about how I’m feeling. My parents assume that I’m ecstatic, as do my friends. But honestly, I’m torn apart and I can’t see a way out.

  It’s been days since I’ve been able to sleep properly, and the stress is starting to show. I’m irritable and snapping at everyone. Then, early one morning, as I’m retrieving Zorro’s ball from underneath the recliner, I find something glittery hiding there as well.

  It’s my cousin’s wedding invitation. I see it, and something clicks in my mind.

  The answer is right in front of me, and it’s perfect.

  How did I not think about this before?

  I rush to my parents’ bedroom. They’re still asleep, but I’ve decided that it’s time for them to wake up.

  I shake Ammi gently, but she’s so nervous these days that she screams and almost gives Abbu a heart attack. They both sit up and give me dirty looks.

  “What is it, Zara?” Ammi asks. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’ve had a brilliant idea,” I say triumphantly.

  “And this brilliant idea couldn’t wait until, say, breakfast?” Abbu asks, rubbing his eyes.

  “You don’t understand,” I say impatiently. “It’s the perfect solution.”

  “Okay, so let’s hear it,” Ammi says.

  “Canada,” I say, standing tall and proud.

  “Okay?” Abbu says. They both look at me blankly.

  “We can go to Canada. And stay with Murshed Uncle.”

  I can tell by the looks on their faces that it’s starting to dawn on them that their daughter is a bona fide genius.

  “Isn’t it brilliant?” I ask.

  “Did you get any sleep at all?” Ammi asks.

  “Who cares about sleep, Ammi? Didn’t you hear what I said?”

  “But I thought we agreed that I would work for the senator,” Abbu said. “Why did you change your mind again?”

  “Abbu, I know you’re only doing it for me,” I said. “And I just can’t let you two do that.”

  “But what about your friends?” Ammi says. “And your life over here?”

  “Canada isn’t that far. And my friends and my life here are important, yes. But not more than you.”

  “You know, Murshed has been asking me for years to move over there, closer to him and his family,” Abbu says.

  “He said it’s a lot better there,” Ammi says. “Especially compared to the way things are here these days.”

  “So, you think you’ll do it?” I’m practically buzzing with excitement.

  Ammi and Abbu look at each other.

  “I think we should definitely look into it,” Abbu says.

  I hug them both and run back to my room to start some online research.

  When it’s a reasonable waking hour, I call Shireen Khala, and she’s surprised to hear what I have to say.

  “I didn’t know you were still thinking about all of this,” she says. “I thought it was a done deal with the senator.”

  “It wasn’t sitting right with me,” I tell her. “You’ve seen how stressed Ammi has been these last couple of months. I don’t want her to feel unsafe all the time and worry about our safety.”

  “Well, it sounds like a pretty good idea,” Shireen Khala says. “I’ll look into it too, in case you need some help with the paperwork.”

  It feels right. A place where they have what they want—family and safety—and I can have what I want—freedom, equality … and family.

  Now I just have to share the news with Chloe, Nick, and Priya and hope they’ll understand.

  I’m sitting across from Nick and Priya at Scoopz. Now that I know about them being a couple, they’re nauseatingly cute with each other, sharing a bowl of frozen yogurt. I guess I get to eat all my sour gummies alone from now on. I’ve just told them about the change of plans, and they’re a little stunned.

  “We’ve never even talked about Canada,” Nick says. “How did you even come up with that plan?”

  “Do you remember my cousin Ayesha? From Vancouver?”

  “Yes,” Nick says. “She was really pretty.”

  Priya snatches the spoon from him, and I grin at them.

  “Anyway … I found this wedding invitation they sent us a while back, and that must have triggered something in my genius brain.”

  Nick mumbles into his frozen yogurt.

  “But why did you change your mind?” Priya asks.

  I tell her what my parents had said right before Shireen Khala guilted them into agreeing to stay.

  “Yeah, I get that,” Priya says. “I wouldn’t want them doing that for me either. It’s too much.”

  “I’m going to miss you,” Nick says. “Canada’s so far.”

  “I’ll buy you a map,” I say.

  “Now we’ll have an excuse to visit,” Priya says.

  I’m glad they’re taking the news so well because I’m not looking forward to telling Chloe.

  * * *

  “What? I thought you’d decided that you could stay here,” she says. “Didn’t the senator offer your father a job?”

  So I go through the whole spiel again.

  “I know it’s going to be difficult, but it’s not that far,” I say. “It’s like a five-hour plane ride from Houston.”

  “I get it,” she says, but she sounds so sad that I can’t bear it.

  “You know, you could apply to some universities in Vancouver as well,” I say. “Then we could still be together.”

  “I am dying to get out of here,” she says. “I mean, things with my parents still aren’t great, so it might be better to get away somewhere else for a while.”

  This is going so much better than I’d anticipated, and that only convinces me that this is the right thing to do.


  * * *

  The next few weeks fly by as we apply for permanent residency in Canada. It’s still a lengthy process, but because my father is a physician, we anticipate that it won’t take too long. In the meantime, he has agreed to work for Senator Delgado until we get our Canadian papers.

  As the end of the year approaches, my friends and I can’t help but stress about our college applications. I’ve researched a handful of universities in Canada, and I’m excited to apply. But I have to wait until I get my Canadian permanent resident status before I can submit any applications, so I plan to volunteer with Senator Delgado until then. And Chloe is applying to a few of the same Canadian universities as me.

  Nick and Priya plan to stay near Corpus Christi, so it’s a relief to know that we’ll each only be a plane ride away. We’re already planning trips to meet up, and things feel good again.

  * * *

  Ammi and Abbu have decided that a huge going-away party is a great way to start our new adventure. Abbu is running some last-minute errands while Ammi and I put the finishing touches on the kheer and sevaiyyan. I’m wearing a new churidar set that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. It’s a beautiful lilac georgette with tiny pearls embroidered into the flowers at the neckline and the sleeves. I love how the kameez flows around my ankles, and I’m admiring my silver anklets and matching toe rings, when the doorbell rings. It’s Chloe. She’s wearing a pretty purple lace blouse and black high-waisted jeans. Her normally straight hair is carefully curled, and when I hug her, I’m enveloped by the scent of lavender and honey. The mehndi I applied to her hands last night has come out really well. It’s a dark brown against her fair skin and I’m really proud of the paisley pattern I did on her.

  “Did you dab it with lemon water?” I ask.

  “Yes, whenever it started to dry out, just like you said,” she replies. “Isn’t it so pretty?” She holds out her palms for me to admire. “I love what you’re wearing, by the way.” She steps back to get a better look. “I love this color on you.”

  Ammi walks in just then.