Huda and Me

by H. Hayek

  I glance at my hands and they’re still trembling. I think about what Huda said. I know she doesn’t lie about the important stuff. I think about what I said about us being strong since the day we were born. And I know it’s true. I remember the promise I made to Mum, about always looking after my sister.

  I grab my hands to stop them shaking, then unclip my seatbelt. Passengers are still picking up their bags and the mess scattered around them. I step over half-eaten dishes of food and headphones as I walk to the front of the plane. I take a deep breath and pull across the thick red curtain that leads to the first-class area.

  The seats here are three times as wide as the ones we’ve been sitting on, and some look like beds. Passengers drink from fancy glass cups and have proper plates to eat off – not aluminium disposable ones like us. It doesn’t even smell like our part of the plane. I slowly walk through the huge aisle, scanning each row until I see him. Michael. He’s sitting in a pod on his own, flicking through a magazine. He spots me before I have a chance to open my mouth.

  ‘Hey, man! Akeal with the cool shoes!’ Michael smiles.

  ‘Hey!’ I clear my throat like the captain did before she made her announcement.

  ‘I didn’t realise you were on this flight. I would’ve come and hung out with you.’

  ‘Yeh, my sister told me you were here, so I came to find you.’

  Michael tips his head to the side. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Yeh, you know, my sister. The one wearing the pink scarf that you tried to rip off her head.’

  The smile disappears from Michael’s face. Instead, two lines appear between his eyebrows. He puts his magazine down and stands up. I realise he’s taller than me.

  ‘Your sister?’ His frown gets deeper.

  I nod and take another big breath, but I don’t let my eyes shift to the floor, as much as they want to.

  ‘My sister. The one who’s half your size and did nothing to you.’

  Michael’s eyes drop to the floor. He doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip hard.

  ‘I didn’t realise,’ he mumbles eventually.

  ‘You didn’t realise she was my sister, or you didn’t realise that I was a Muslim?’ I feel my voice deepen.

  ‘Um … both,’ Michael stutters, glancing quickly at me then back at the floor. I feel my fists clench.

  ‘You hurt her. You judged her. You called her names that she isn’t. We’re not bad people, we’re just getting on with stuff like everyone else. Next time you want to pick a fight with a little kid – think twice.’

  The words spew out of my mouth. I know I mean them, I just don’t know where they came from. I shove my hands into my pockets and take a step back. I’m done. I want to get back to my seat.

  Michael’s face twitches, and he nods so quickly I barely catch it. ‘All right. I get it.’

  I’m barely listening as I turn to walk back through the curtains.

  ‘Hey man, listen, sorry if I offended you,’ he calls out after me.

  I stop and look back. I want to tell him he’s only sorry he was caught.

  Michael’s still frowning, but it’s not the same frown as before. I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s holding one hand out in front of him.

  ‘I said I’m sorry.’

  Stealing the Stuff

  ‘Excuse me, sorry to interrupt your television show.’ Huda waited for Aunt Amel to pull her eyes away from the screen, but she didn’t. She took another sip of tea instead.

  It had been two days since Aunt Amel caught us trying to call our parents and blamed Huda for it. She’d been true to her word, refusing to speak to Huda, or to allow any of us to, ever since.

  My sister picked at her fingernail, looking smaller than usual for a moment.

  ‘Um …’ I cut in, ‘do you mind if we walk to school today?’

  Aunt Amel paused, the teacup halfway between her mouth and the small plate on her lap. ‘And why do you want to walk? Isn’t it a privilege to have me and Omar drop you off?’

  Huda shot me a look and I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer for that one.

  ‘It is a privilege,’ Huda declared. ‘We’re so lucky that you take us, every single day. It’s just that early morning exercise gives us lots of energy, and that means we can learn better and work harder.’

  Aunt Amel’s eyes skipped between us so many times that her head wobbled.

  ‘Well, Akeal,’ she said eventually, ‘in that case, you may walk to school. But none of that dawdling business, and make sure you fulfil all your responsibilities before you leave!’

  Huda grinned and gave me sneaky thumbs up as Aunt Amel lifted the tea to her lips.

  ‘Thank you very much.’ Huda curtsied. I didn’t know why she’d do that, but then I saw Aunt Amel trying to hide a smile behind her teacup.

  Huda took my hand and practically dragged me out of the lounge room.

  ‘Okay, hurry up,’ she hissed in the hallway. ‘Get your school stuff ready and put on your uniform before she changes her mind.’

  I raced to my room and tore off my pyjamas, throwing on my school uniform. We met back in the hall, schoolbags in hand. Huda’s uniform was creased, her back tracksuit pocket hanging out. I thought she might still have the same ponytail in her hair as when Mum and Dad had left. She looked a mess.

  In the kitchen, I opened the bottom drawer of the fridge and two cucumbers rolled towards me. I grabbed them both and threw one to my sister.

  ‘No time for breakfast, or to pack lunch. I have some money left over from Eid. I’ll get you a lunch order,’ I whispered.

  We bolted out the front door, then down the side of the house, ducking between two wheelie bins. Rubbish pick-up wasn’t for another day, and Huda instantly pulled her jumper over her face. It was like every single sea creature had died and someone had put them all in our wheelies. The smell was atrocious. I started to choke loudly. Huda glared at me. She pulled her sports jacket from her backpack and chucked it at me, and I tied it around my head.

  We both stepped up onto our tippy-toes to peer through the window into my parents’ bedroom, which Aunt Amel had taken over.

  ‘We’re too short,’ groaned Huda. ‘Let me stand on your back. I’ll be able to check if the coast is clear.’

  I got down on all fours and my sister climbed on top of me. I could’ve sworn she deliberately poked her heels into my back as she popped her head up to the window.

  She gasped.

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered loudly.

  She didn’t say anything.

  ‘Is Raheed okay? What can you see?’

  Huda climbed down and sat on the concrete next to me. ‘You’ll never believe it,’ she whispered, shaking her head.

  I lunged onto the nearest wheelie bin and peered through the window to see for myself. Aunt Amel was on the bed with Raheed, giving him kisses. He wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a wet kiss on the nose. She threw her head back and chuckled, then rubbed her stomach. Then she lifted Raheed softly into her arms and carried him out of the room. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I guessed it was time for Raheed to have his breakfast.

  I grabbed Huda by the arm and pulled her up onto the wheelie bin too, then pulled the window open. Ripping the jacket from around my head, I dropped it so it landed on top of my schoolbag on the concrete below.

  ‘Go first,’ I told my sister. She gripped the edge of the window and kicked her legs in all directions as she wiggled through. I heard a soft thud and knew she’d made it onto the floorboards of the bedroom inside.

  I slid my body through too, landing softly on my feet, expecting to see Huda already rifling through the wardrobe for Dad’s briefcase. Instead, she stood frozen at the foot of Mum and Dad’s bed, sniffling. She didn’t have to say anything, because I already knew what she was thinking. I missed them too.

  This was the only room Aunt Amel never let us into – even to clean. There were piles of her clothes on the floor, snotty tissues on the bedside tables, and half-
drunk cups of tea everywhere. Raheed’s toys were scattered about, and the room smelled like an old, wet nappy. This was not how Mum and Dad kept the place.

  Aunt Amel’s footsteps in the hallway shattered my thoughts. Huda’s eyes darted around the room in panic. I grabbed her by the arm and threw her under the bed, diving after her just as the door creaked open. I could hear my little brother crying from the kitchen.

  Aunt Amel stepped into the room. Had she heard us? Did she know we were there? My mind raced as her bare feet walked towards the bed. Each step was careful and slow, as though she wanted to torture us. I thought I could hear Huda’s heart pounding at a million beats a second, then realised it was my own. It was going to explode out of my chest and hit Aunt Amel on the foot. She stopped at the edge of the bed and stood there. Her toes were abnormally long, with little hairs poking out from each one, and her nails were painted purple, care of Kholoud.

  I glanced over at my sister. If Aunt Amel pulled us out from under this bed, our lives wouldn’t be worth living. Huda’s shoulders were up near her neck, like she was a turtle trying to clamber back into her shell. Aunt Amel tapped her foot, as if thinking about what to do next.

  All of a sudden, Aunt Amel’s arm lunged under the bed, right at me. I wiggled to the side. She lunged again, and I tucked my head into my shoulders to avoid her. The clumsy pineapple wasn’t as quick as me. I looked at Huda in elation – it was a small win, but at least it was something. In fact, I may even have chuckled. Very quietly, though. Huda didn’t smile back. She widened her eyes at me instead.

  Raheed’s wailing from the kitchen was getting louder. Aunt Amel went in for the third time, this time feeling around with her long, creepy fingers. I couldn’t believe how uncoordinated she was.

  Nappy, Huda mouthed at me. She pointed to a pile of nappies next to me, and the penny dropped. I grabbed one and placed it in the path of Aunt Amel’s next lunge.

  Aunt Amel’s hand landed on it. She grunted, then she called to my baby brother, ‘I’m coming to change your little poo-poo, my darling!’ as she walked out of the room.

  My body collapsed into jelly and I shook with silent laughter as I rested on the floorboards for a moment. Huda glared at me. I knew she thought this was my fault.

  ‘All she wanted was a nappy! You could’ve got us caught with all your laughing and farting around,’ she retorted as we climbed out from under the bed.

  I had to agree with her. I realised it was best to try to change the subject.

  ‘We’d better hurry up and grab the stuff,’ I said. ‘Changing Raheed’s nappy will only take a few minutes.’

  Huda rolled her eyes. ‘You find the credit card and I’ll get Dad’s briefcase,’ she said.

  Huda tiptoed over to the wardrobe, I spotted Aunt Amel’s handbag in the gap between the dressing table and the wall, just where Huda had told me she hid it. The handbag had bits of material flaking off it and looked about a century old. I pulled it open and found Tic Tacs, lollies and chocolates rolling around everywhere inside. A little gold sequin purse with two little clasps sat right at the bottom.

  I lifted the purse from the handbag and pulled apart the clasps. There were two pockets on each side, so I unzipped the first and pulled out three hard plastic cards: a gym membership, a pharmacy rewards card, and a library card. I slid them back into their slot.

  ‘Have you found the credit card yet?’ my sister hissed.

  I shook my head, unzipping the second pocket and pulling another two cards out. The first was Aunt Amel’s driver’s licence. She looked a lot younger in the photo. The next one was a shiny card with Mastercard written on it. Aunt Amel’s full name was on it too. Amel Boogie. I pushed down a smile and shoved it into my shirt pocket. Returning the other card to its place, I tossed the purse into the handbag and the handbag back into its spot.

  Huda was still fumbling in the wardrobe, but next thing I saw her two small, grubby hands poke out of a pile of clothing, holding the handle of Dad’s black briefcase. The rest of her popped out too, and she let the briefcase fall to the floor. She looked pleased with herself.

  ‘Open it,’ she whispered.

  We both squatted beside it. There were two silver latches, one on either end of the briefcase. I pushed both to the side and they clicked open.

  ‘Bismillah,’ I whispered.

  I lifted open the briefcase and my sister gasped. ‘Holy polony!’ she whispered.

  Inside were bundles of hundred-dollar notes. There were so many that I couldn’t even guess how much money it was. Underneath that, I saw seven passports. I knew exactly who they were for. Mum and Dad had been saving for ages to take us kids to visit Lebanon.

  Huda and I looked at each other and grinned. ‘Let’s go,’ I said.

  Huda grabbed bundles of the money and threw them out the window, onto our backpacks below. I flicked through the passports until I found mine and Huda’s, and shoved them into my pocket next to the credit card. Huda ran back to the briefcase and grabbed more money.

  ‘Oi! That’s enough!’ I said.

  ‘Akeal, what if we end up in Japan or something? We’ve got to be prepared.’

  ‘Mum and Dad work hard for that cash. We should only take what we need.’

  ‘Yeh yeh, okay.’ She raced back to the window and threw the money outside, ignoring me.

  Before I shut the briefcase, I slipped an extra passport into my pocket – my little brother Raheed’s. I was going to miss him so much. This way, his rosy cheeks and round chubby face would stay close to my heart, no matter what happened.

  ‘Got everything?’ my sister asked.

  I nodded.

  ‘Good. Chuck it back in the wardrobe and let’s get out of here.’ Huda was already half out the window.

  I did as she suggested. I could hear Raheed laughing again. His bum must be nice and clean. I spent an extra second listening to his giggles before I ran to the window and jumped out onto the concrete outside.

  Huda was already snatching the money from the ground, stuffing the bundles into my backpack.

  ‘You’re putting all the money in my bag?’ I whisper-screamed.

  ‘Yeh, I can’t risk being caught with it at school. There’s a kid in my class who goes through people’s bags looking for chips.’

  ‘What if I’m caught with it?’

  ‘You won’t be. Trust me. Everyone in your class is boring. Hurry up and let’s get out of here.’

  She zipped up my bag and shoved it at me. Then she picked up her own backpack and bolted towards the gate. I caught up with her on the street.

  ‘Gimmie the passports and the credit card,’ she said. ‘I have library class today, so I’ll be able to use the computers to book the tickets.’

  I took our two passports and the credit card out of my pocket. I wasn’t sure this part of her plan was a good one. But before I could say anything, she snatched them out of my hand and shoved them into her own pocket.

  ‘You look stressed out, brother.’

  ‘Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?’ I asked her.

  ‘Damn tootin’ we’re doing the right thing. You saw Raheed! He’s as happy as ever. Pineapple Head loves him! She won’t do anything to hurt him, even if she finds out what we’ve done.’

  She was right. Everything was going well, but I still felt sick. And Huda could tell.

  ‘Listen, buy yourself a nice lunch order and an icy pole today with some of the money in your bag. I took a hundred dollars to do the same. Mum and Dad would want that.’

  She gave me a quick pat on the back and then ran ahead of me down the path towards school.

  Touchdown in Beirut

  Huda squeals and claps her hands together.

  ‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we’re actually about to land in Lebanon,’ she says.

  The silvery sparkles of the Mediterranean Sea startle me when I glance out of the window. It’s so shiny and the blue so bright that it’s hard to believe what I’m staring at. The sea seems
to go on forever, wrapping right across the world’s curve.

  I pull my eyes away from the window and scan the cabin. Miss Rosetta is sitting up ahead in the middle of the plane, facing us, with her seatbelt on.

  ‘As soon as this plane lands, we gotta bolt,’ I tell my sister. She isn’t listening, though. She’s still staring out the window.

  I grab her shoulder. ‘Oi, listen.’

  Huda jolts and looks at me. She blinks her eyes a couple of times to focus on my face.

  ‘When we land, we have to run. They’re not going to let us leave if we don’t have Mum and Dad waiting for us at the airport. Grab your stuff as soon as the seatbelt sign is off and follow me.’

  The plane lowers itself to the ground and bobs up and down a few times until we’re shooting down the runway.

  ‘Get ready,’ I say. Huda nods.

  The plane begins to slow and then stops. Miss Rosetta unbuckles her seatbelt.

  ‘Welcome to Beirut,’ our pilot announces. ‘It’s a warm, sunny evening, with a high of twenty-nine degrees. Please stay seated until the cabin crew have unlocked the safety doors and the seatbelt sign is switched off. Thank you again for flying with us.’

  Huda clutches her backpack to her chest.

  DING. The seatbelt sign turns from orange to grey.

  Flipping my bag onto my back, I grab my sister’s wrist and pull her into the aisle. It’s already packed. Almost everyone is standing, trying to reach their bags. There’s no time to queue, though; no time to wait our turn.

  ‘Make way, make way! Excuse me!’ I push myself forward, holding Huda’s wrist tightly.

  Mum would be so disappointed with me cutting the queue and pushing past people to get to the front. I elbow my way through until we’re almost at the doors of the plane. Then I see Miss Rosetta. And she sees me. She’s standing at the exit of the aeroplane, thanking each passenger as they step into the corridor that leads to the airport. Blocking our path to freedom.

  ‘Excuse me, children! Take a seat! You cannot disembark the aircraft without being escorted to your guardian by a member of the flight staff. It’s a matter of security.’