The Things We See in the Light

by Amal Awad

‘Fuck off,’ says Kat.

  Luke straightens up and his whole body changes. ‘I’m telling you. She’s a perfectionist, so she’ll be hard on everyone.’

  I’m bewildered by this open and easy dissection of my character. Admittedly, I grow curious, too.

  ‘Shall we find out?’ says Kat. There’s a glint in her eye as she crowds in on me and gives me a side hug. ‘Kidding. We don’t have time tonight. It needs to be done properly.’

  Luke studies me throughout the entire exchange and slowly an almost-smile starts to form. ‘Leave her alone. She’s not a drinker.’

  ‘OK, serious question,’ says Kat, releasing me. She readjusts herself to face me. ‘If you weren’t hung up on what your parents taught you, would you want to have a drink?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ I say. ‘Why is drinking so important?’

  ‘OK, drinking, dating, anything you weren’t allowed to judge as good or bad for yourself.’

  ‘I let go of a lot of those things over the years. It’s not that big of a deal.’

  ‘Just play along.’

  I’m feeling comfortable and emboldened enough by now to be more open with them. ‘One of my best friends is already trying to get me to jump on the experience wagon. So get in line.’

  Even Luke cracks a proper smile at that. ‘You’re going to write one of your lists?’

  ‘I’m glad I’m amusing you all,’ I say, surprised at how easy it is to be with them here. It occurs to me that I have never felt at ease with anyone besides my closest friends and family, and with Naeem. Not in school, university or even in my years of attending religious classes.

  Inez raises her hands, a disapproving look on her face. ‘Ease up on the girl. If she wants your help with her social life, she’ll ask for it. But I reserve the right to interfere with work stuff. And clothing,’ she says, mock-coughing into her fist.

  Luke rolls his eyes. ‘What is it with you women always needing to fix each other up? There’s nothing wrong with how she dresses.’

  I meet his eyes, but he quickly turns away and busies himself with his phone. I excuse myself and head to the bathroom.

  The sound of the booming music mutes as the door behind me swings closed. My face is flushed, but in a good way. I wash my hands and face, top up my eyeliner and apply some lip gloss. I smile without thinking about it, a thin sprinkling of nervous excitement filling my chest. I am having fun.

  I check my phone and see a message from Salim, a message from Samira with a photo of her kids’ handiwork in the living room, and two voice messages from Khaled sent through WhatsApp.

  Chapter 12

  Some people are bad for you, and sometimes you are bad for others.

  Khaled, a compartmentalised memory most days, is in contact again. I frantically play the first message. I place the phone to my right ear and stick a finger in the other one to drown out the noise.

  ‘Sahar … What were you thinking?’ he says in Arabic. His deep voice, so familiar but so out of place here. ‘You are your own worst enemy. I’m still trying to recover from you.’

  My whole body is shaking from the shock of the old returned. I press play on the second message.

  ‘Do you think I felt nothing? When I was with you, do you think it meant nothing? If only you had looked at me the way you looked at him.’

  Khaled’s tone is vulnerable. He sounds heartbroken, even though I know that what has ripped him apart is not me or my departure. He pauses a while, then sighs. ‘Nothing would have made you happy. I know that now.’

  He sounds like the victim, not the perpetrator. The words fall on me like bricks and I sink to the floor. That blunt scrape of shame.

  When I was with you, do you think it meant nothing?

  My body tenses at the memory of being with Khaled. It frightens me how easily I can conjure it all. The energy of him, the heavy scent of aftershave, the flare of annoyance in his eyes. The way he looked past me.

  Don’t ever cut your hair.

  I don’t know how long I’m there for, but I’m still in a daze, plaiting my long hair, lost in Khaled’s words, when Kat comes into the bathroom.

  ‘Oh my God, are you OK, habib?’ Kat crouches down beside me and tilts my chin.

  ‘I’m fine. I just needed a minute.’

  Kat is not convinced, but then I exhale slowly and look her in the eyes, and she relaxes.

  I take back what I told Lara about not wanting to experience things. I take it all back. Suddenly, I am overwhelmed by the desire to reduce my cage to ashes rather than make it so large that I forget it exists.

  I want to try everything.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ I say. ‘Let’s do that experience experiment.’

  Kat looks shamefaced. ‘We were just kidding around, Sahar. It’s just, everyone had rules, and most of us broke them.’

  I shake my head. ‘No. You’re right. I’m too afraid to admit that there are things I want to try.’

  Kat slides down onto the floor with a heavy sigh. She speaks slowly, a little drunk, but her words are clear. ‘Darling, I hate to break it to you, but you don’t have ownership on being fucked up, or on your parents fucking you up.’

  ‘My parents gave me religion. My ex-husband took it away. Then …’

  Naeem. The in-betweener. The questioner who believed he didn’t have the answers but also didn’t think that the meaning of life was the most important question.

  I need to figure out what lies between. A way out of this wilderness. Or find some tools to survive it.

  I am quiet, ashamed at the thought that my parents’ restrictions overshadow all the good they did for me. But it matters, how they taught us to exist in the world.

  ‘Only girls with names like Becky and, I dunno, fucken Kayla or something had a normal childhood,’ Kat says. ‘And even then, they’re pretty messed up, steaming their vaginas and shit.’

  I start to laugh, properly, and Kat joins me. We are in hysterics by the time Inez comes in to check on us.

  ‘Have you both lost your minds? We thought you fell in.’

  Kat raises a hand and settles herself. She stands up then reaches down to pull me up. ‘She’s in.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sahar. She’s going to try some things out. I’m calling it The Experiment. Capital “T”, capital “E”.’

  Inez looks unconvinced. ‘You know you can tell us to bugger off, Sahar.’

  ‘I want to do this,’ I say, and I mean it.

  ‘Are you sure?’ says Inez.

  ‘It’s going to help you figure a lot of shit out,’ says Kat. ‘Trust me. It’ll tell you who you are. You think it’s just an activity, but really, it’s a test.’

  And I have done enough of those to know how they work.

  It was meant to be an early night, but Kat demanded we all stay back to devise the list. The crowd at the bar has thinned out, and only a drunk couple remains, swaying together on the dance floor to a screechy rock song.

  ‘Leave me out of it,’ says Luke.

  ‘No. Fuck off,’ says Kat. ‘You’re in. We all give Sahar at least one experience.’

  I’m starting to regret my decision, but Kat’s enthusiasm is hard to fault. I wonder what essential thread connects us, because she seems invested more deeply than the rest of the group. She carefully places a napkin down and digs out a pen from her satchel bag.

  I drag the basket of fresh popcorn towards me.

  ‘First, I’ll take dancing,’ says Kat.

  ‘I know how to dance,’ I say, and Kat raises an eyebrow. Admittedly, it was always with women, but we didn’t hold back. ‘In fact, I could probably teach you something.’ I take another piece of popcorn.

  Luke perks up. ‘Them’s fightin’ words,’ he says.

  Leaning forward, Kat eyes me suspiciously. ‘Have you done in-the-club dancing?’

  ‘Not on my list.’

  ‘Have you danced with a guy you like?’

  Damn it. ‘No.’

  ‘Ooh, slow dance with
a man. Yes! Write that,’ says Inez, her mirth bubbling up.

  ‘I’ve never even been on a date,’ I say, stuffing my mouth with popcorn.

  The table falls silent. The loud music continues to pound in my ears and I can hear my own chewing, but my embarrassment feels louder than both.

  ‘You were married,’ says Kat.

  ‘I never dated him the way people date here.’

  They’re all staring at me, but their looks vary. Inez is sympathetic, Kat is horrified, and Luke is curious. At least I think he is, because he is scrutinising me intently, but not in the judgemental way he used to when I first started working at the bakery.

  ‘You should totally go on a date. Go on lots of dates, even if half the guys you’ll meet are fuckwits,’ says Kat.

  ‘You want to try Tinder or something?’ says Inez, her beautifully made-up face etched with concern. ‘I don’t use it personally, but I can walk you through it.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Not Tinder. Jesus,’ says Luke.

  ‘Is there a dating app for Muslims?’ Kat queries.

  ‘I don’t want to swipe on an app for a date.’

  ‘Just make sure he uses protection,’ says Inez, lowering her voice, her eyes wide. I tied my tubes a while ago. I couldn’t bear another pregnancy. But then Inez says, ‘Safety from everything,’ and she squeezes my arm.

  ‘Dating a woman isn’t much easier,’ says Kat. ‘Trust me, I know.’

  ‘I’m not a lesbian.’

  ‘The sex is better,’ says Kat.

  Luke groans and Inez chuckles.

  ‘We know,’ says Luke. ‘You tell us all the time.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ comes Kat’s tight response.

  ‘I think my husband got turned on by that sort of thing,’ I say, remembering Khaled’s videos. One of them was for lesbian sex – at least, the way I think men imagine it.

  ‘This is her without intoxication,’ says Kat.

  ‘And he’s still your husband?’ asks Inez.

  ‘No, he divorced me by text. Not because of that, obviously.’

  ‘It should be a little because of that,’ says Inez.

  ‘Adding dates to the list. No pressure,’ says Kat, underlining the words.

  ‘Do I get to tell you what I want?’ I say.

  ‘Totally,’ says Kat. ‘Inez, you take clothes shopping.’

  ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

  Kat winces as she scribbles down more notes, and Inez shrugs, arms raised in surrender because she is not the one steering this ship. ‘There’s nothing wrong, per se,’ Inez begins awkwardly. ‘But we need to put you in a sexy dress and take you out.’

  ‘I’ve worn dresses like that before.’

  Kat scoffs. ‘In front of women only, I bet. Right?’

  I’m silent and Kat nods, her smile growing wider. ‘I know how it goes. I’ve been to those Lebanese girls’ nights. The women go off. Don’t get me wrong, it’s impressive. But not what we want here. I’m adding sexy dress to the list.’

  Inez takes my hand like she’s offering me support during a difficult procedure. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’

  ‘We should all take drinking,’ says Kat. ‘That’s a big one.’

  The conversation is building around me. I should be offended, but I’m oddly touched by their investment in my wellbeing – even if it’s their kitchen-sink version of it.

  ‘I’ll take mind, body and spirit,’ says Inez and it starts to sound like a game show.

  ‘Luke, you’re up,’ says Kat.

  Luke is not impressed. ‘I’ll do drinks with you all,’ he says, then drains his beer.

  Kat shakes her head. ‘Don’t be salty. Have a think about it, and we’ll come back to you.’

  ‘What about something sporty?’ says Inez.

  ‘Rule: it has to be outside her comfort zone,’ says Kat. She turns to me. ‘It should scare you, Sahar. At least a little.’

  ‘No, it should just be new in some way,’ says Inez, ever the diplomat.

  ‘I learned how to swim at school, but I wasn’t allowed to go to the beach,’ I tell them.

  The two women study me, morose, and I hate it. ‘It’s OK. It’s not like I was going to be an Olympic swimmer,’ I say, looking to Luke, who shrugs. ‘But maybe I could learn again?’

  The pitying looks from the girls linger, breaking when Kat shakes her head and starts to scribble. ‘I wanted to throw javelin and my dad freaked out. What would the church friends think? Instead, I broke their hearts by telling them I’m gay.’

  ‘Are your parents OK with your sexuality now?’ I ask.

  ‘God no, but they still talk to me. We just pretend I never said it, or it was a breakdown. I’ve learned that if I want them in my life, I can’t give them access to all of it. I pick and choose.’

  I nod. I never had the courage to pick and choose. Now I don’t need to, but it’s lonely. My brother is distant, unable to align me with his way of existing in the world.

  ‘You can’t force your life onto people,’ Kat continues, her voice lower. ‘I don’t want people trying to change me, so I don’t mess with my sanity by trying to change them.’

  ‘Maybe you should go back to javelin as a hobby,’ says Inez with a teasing smile.

  ‘Maybe I will,’ says a sombre Kat. ‘Maybe I fucken will.’

  ‘Maybe we can all do something,’ I suggest. ‘Make it a group challenge.’

  ‘Maybe let’s focus on you for now,’ says Kat. ‘Who else is going to be the easygoing mum you never had?’

  But Inez looks deep in thought. ‘That’s not a bad idea. Why don’t we all do it?’

  ‘Fuck off,’ says Kat. ‘I’m not the one hiding from life.’

  Luke rolls his eyes. ‘Likewise. Count me out.’ He rises from his seat, momentarily leaning towards me. ‘Tell you what. I’ll teach you something cool with chocolate.’

  I hesitate, unsure if he’s joking. ‘Really?’

  ‘Sure. Last round’s on me,’ he says, then wanders off towards the bar.

  Kat continues writing. ‘That she gets excited about. Not exactly what I meant by The Experiment, but OK.’

  ‘There has to be something else,’ Inez says. She steeples her hands together then rests her chin on them, inspecting me like I’m dessert.

  ‘I wanted to join the circus when I was five,’ I tell her, picking the most outrageous thing I can think of; I don’t know how much more pity I can take.

  But Inez’s eyes look ready to pop out of their sockets. She’s thrilled. ‘Oh my God. You are coming to a Sexy Skygirls session with me!’

  ‘Huh?’ Kat and I say in unison.

  ‘I do lyra!’

  We both stare at her blankly, and she starts to flap her hands impatiently. ‘Hoop! The aerial stuff I was talking about earlier, at my circus academy. But this class is all women and it’s all sexy.’

  ‘Do I look like I can do a circus act?’ I may be a regular at the gym, but I still have the Arab curves and chest.

  ‘All body types and levels welcome. You’ll love it.’

  ‘Added,’ says Kat. ‘And no, I’m not coming.’

  Tipsy Inez does a faux sad smile but then scrunches up her face with glee. ‘This is so exciting.’

  Kat scans the list; I have no idea how she can read it in the dim light of the bar. ‘This is looking good. Anything else?’

  ‘I have one,’ I tell her.

  Kat waits. ‘Shoot.’

  ‘I want to cut my hair.’

  ‘Really? But it’s so nice and long,’ says Inez.

  ‘That’s all I want. For now.’

  ‘I can do it,’ Kat says, and my eyes widen.

  Inez smiles. ‘Kat is brilliant with hair. She’s done mine.’

  ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘There’s a lot you don’t know,’ she says, head down as she adds my request to the list. ‘My first job was sweeping up hair.’

  ‘We can both do it,’ says Inez, beamin
g. ‘I’ll do the treatment. Kat can do the cut.’

  They wait for my response, but I’m still trying to process the rapid developments. ‘Sure. Whatever you think.’

  Inez’s smile widens. ‘And I mean it about joining in. I don’t have a whole list to get through, but there’s something I’ve been umming and ahhing about.’

  Kat squints at Inez, a bit surprised. ‘You don’t keep secrets from me.’

  ‘It’s not a secret. Just something I’ve always wanted to do but didn’t think I could. Or should.’ Inez’s face turns pink and she waves us away. ‘One thing at a time. And, Kat, you’re not getting out of this. And neither is Luke.’

  ‘Whatever,’ says Kat. She snaps a photo of the list on her phone, and a few second later, everyone’s phones chime. ‘Sent.’

  Kat folds up the napkin and hands it to me. ‘For framing.’

  I come home feeling lighter than I should, given Khaled’s message. I’m tired of feeling bad, of muting my emotions so I can forget. I need to find a way to be reminded of things and not internally fall to pieces.

  Lara and Hakeem are on the couch watching a television show, Lara with her head in Hakeem’s lap, his fingers caressing her forehead. It’s dark but for the light of a tall floor lamp and the television glare, so I’m hoping I can sneak past and not interrupt their intimacy. But no such luck. Lara calls out to me to turn on the light. I switch it on, then approach them like I’ve been caught stealing. Lara sits up. ‘And what time do you call this, young lady?’

  ‘Definitely way past my bedtime.’

  Hakeem smiles. ‘Big night?’

  ‘Bigger than I expected.’

  ‘Sahar is making friends at work,’ Lara says, straightening up. She pats the seat beside her but I shake my head.

  ‘I just want to have a shower and go to sleep.’

  Lara narrows her eyes at me. ‘You look flushed. Were you drinking?’

  ‘Nope. But everyone else was. Can you get drunk on fumes?’

  Hakeem chuckles. ‘Lara could.’

  Lara punches him and he makes a guttural sound in response.

  ‘Hakeem can’t hold his liquor. We tried and failed.’

  I look to Hakeem to see if he minds this revelation being so casually shared, but he shrugs. ‘I wanted to try it. Turns out, I don’t like whisky and I’m not missing out on much.’