The next day, Cornelia woke up late and had to get ready in a hurry. She barely got her half a bagel, banana, and glass of chocolate milk down before running out the door. Veronica dropped her off in the usual place, but it was so close to the bell that Chad must have already gone to homeroom. Cornelia quickly loaded up her book bag and ran to her own homeroom right before the final bell rang.
“Thank you for joining us, Ms. Drake,” Mr. Brockheimer said as Cornelia put her book bag on the floor next to her and sat down. She could hear Rebekka snicker behind her but for the first time, Sarah’s echo didn’t follow. Cornelia sat in her desk and looked straight ahead as Mr. Brockheimer took attendance. As soon as the bell rang, Cornelia was out the door just as fast as she had come in. She was hoping to intercept Chad on her way to History class. Sure enough, their paths crossed at the top of the stairs in front of the main office.
“Hey, CC,” Chad said over the noise in the hallway. The two moved over by the lockers and let the crowd pass them by.
“Sorry I didn’t get to see you this morning,” she said. “I was running late as usual.”
“I figured,” he said. “Hey do you know what you’re doing for Thanksgiving yet?”
“No, why?”
“I was wondering if your mom might let you out of grounding for one day so you two could spend the day with us. We have a big meal for lunch and then we go to the soup kitchen to serve Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless.”
“My mom and your parents in the same room?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because my mom is into Prada and your parents are into PETA?” Cornelia asked and they both laughed.
“Well, think about it. If she is in an unusually friendly mood, ask her.”
“O.k. but don’t get your hopes up,” Cornelia warned. “Can you picture my mom in a soup kitchen?” Cornelia had the urge to laugh but then she thought that people probably would have said the same thing about her before she began her community service.
Chad and Cornelia looked around and then snuck a quick kiss before heading in opposite directions. As Cornelia walked to History class she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have a boyfriend like Chad. She was grateful that he hadn’t dumped her after the stunt she pulled. She was grateful for a lot of things these days.
The clock ticked by very slowly. First History then Geometry, Environmental Science, Home Economics and finally Biology. And that was only before lunch. The new lunch gang got a surprise when they sat down to eat. Sarah came over and asked if she could join them. Amanda and Admeta looked skeptical. Chad had a forgiving look on his face as was his way. Cornelia didn’t know what to think.
“I’m really sorry for the way I acted,” Sarah said with her head hanging low. “I did whatever Rebekka wanted and I went along with everything she did even though I knew it was wrong. But what happened with Steve went way too far.”
“Why did you do it if you knew it was wrong?” Admeta asked.
“You haven’t known me very long.” Sarah was right about that. Cornelia had gone to private school with Rebekka, but Sarah had always gone to public school. She lived down the block from Rebekka, so they had been friends from grade school; the same was true for Cornelia and Amanda.
“I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t have any friends until I met Rebekka. I was really happy when she said she was going to transfer to public school. She introduced me to Cornelia and Amanda. She made me go out for the cheerleading squad. She’s probably the only reason I made it on. I felt like I owed it to her to be loyal but she’s just gone too far. Lately she’s done nothing but hateful things. I just can’t go along with her anymore.”
“You shouldn’t have gone along with her in the first place,” Admeta said.
“I know. Everyone knows I was trying to be popular like Rebekka. That’s the reason I did everything I did. It was stupid,” Sarah said and then she started to turn to leave.
“Well you’re not the only one who’s done stupid things,” Cornelia said and reached out her hand to touch Sarah’s arm. “Have a seat.”
“Yeah, that’s the truth,” Admeta said remembering the sign she stuck to Cornelia’s locker.
“Yeah,” Chad echoed, recalling his fight with David.
The four of them looked at Amanda.
“What?” Amanda asked. “Speak for yourselves, I’m perfect.” The group let out a round of laughter all around and Sarah sat down next to Admeta. They filled lunch period with casual conversation and avoided the subject of Rebekka and David. When lunch was over the group started going their separate ways, but Sarah pulled Admeta to the side.
“I really am sorry for everything,” she said. “I shouldn’t have gone along with Rebekka. I should have had the guts to tell her off. I felt really bad about what she said about you and Mrs. Hakim.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t control your friends,” Admeta said. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to accept Sarah’s apology but she couldn’t just leave her standing there with her mouth open. She also couldn’t be a hypocrite. She had forgiven Cornelia, so why should Sarah be any different?
“Yeah, but I bet you would have stood up to her,” Sarah said.
“You’re not me and I’m not you,” Admeta said, not quite sure where she was going. She felt awkward and just wanted to move on.
“See you around,” Sarah said, contritely.
“Yeah, see ya,” Admeta said and was glad when they went in opposite directions. Admeta wasn’t good with apologies. Getting them or giving them. It didn’t matter. They made her uncomfortable. She tried to remember that Sarah never said much herself. She was just always standing behind Rebekka when she was being hateful. Admeta tried to understand how hard it would have been for Sarah to tell her best friend to shut up. Admeta never really had a best friend, so she couldn’t relate. But she could relate to wanting to be popular. Everyone secretly wanted to be popular, didn’t they?
In study hall, Cornelia tried to write about her “favorite thing,” but she couldn’t decide on what that was. Carl said it couldn’t be a person, so Chad was out of the running. She thought about her iPod, her stuffed animals, and the locket her father had given her, but they all seemed shallow. She also thought about the diamond barrette her grandmother had given her, but that was too personal to share. That memory was just for her. Besides, she wouldn’t have been able to read her paper without crying. By the end of the bell she hadn’t come up with anything else.
In English class, Carl passed out Macbeth and the students took turns reading out loud. Mrs. Hakim would never have wasted class time by having people read out loud. Cornelia was reading the part of Lady Macbeth. At one point she was supposed to day, “Out, damned spot! Out I say!” but she was afraid to curse in front of a teacher, so she said, “Out, darned spot!” and everyone laughed. Cornelia was embarrassed, but she had learned in recent months to let things like that just roll off her back. She laughed along with everyone else.
Physical Education was Cornelia’s least favorite class, mostly because she got all sweaty and her make-up would start to run a little. The gym teacher never gave them enough time to take a shower, so she had to just put on extra deodorant and perfume and hope she didn’t stink once she changed back into her street clothes. She thought the clock in the gym was broken, but it finally approached 2:40 p.m. and Cornelia had just enough time to say good-bye to Chad before heading off with Admeta to Mrs. Hakim’s.
“Did you get a ton of Geometry homework?” Cornelia asked Admeta.
“I’m not taking Geometry,” Admeta replied as they walked down the street with their coat collars upturned. It was getting colder as winter drew nearer.
“You’re not?” Cornelia asked.
“No, I’m in Trigonometry. I took Geometry last year.”
“Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
“Admeta Vasquez, math wiz! Who knew?”
“I’m not a math wiz. I just like it i
s all.”
“That’s good. I wish I liked it. I can’t stand math.”
“Trigonometry isn’t math exactly. It’s more like geometry. It deals with sides and angles of triangles and all of the formulas you use to calculate measurements.”
“Well I hate geometry, so I know I would hate trigonometry.”
“It’s not that bad,” Admeta said.
“In your humble opinion,” Cornelia said.
“Yeah, I.M.H.O.,” Admeta replied and the pair laughed as they came upon the little white picket fence. Ralph, the dog, was nowhere to be seen, so they opened the gate and walked up to the door. Admeta rang the bell. After a pause there was a faint voice from inside telling them to come in.
“Mr. H. must not be here,” Admeta said as the pair opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. They put their book bags on the bench and hung their coats on the coat rack.
“Mrs. H.?” Admeta called out. The reply came from the sitting room.
When Admeta and Cornelia walked inside, they saw a tiny figure curled up on the couch covered with the familiar red quilt with the wedding couple on it. She was wearing a wig but no hijab. Mrs. Hakim always tried to look as normal as possible at home so her children wouldn’t be scared, so she kept the wig on to hide her baldness.
“Hey, Mrs. H.” Admeta said, brightly.
“Hello girls,” Mrs. Hakim replied and then coughed as if the effort it took to speak was taking a toll on her.
“Hi,” Cornelia said and then she sat down on the edge of the couch. Admeta sat between Cornelia and Mrs. Hakim. At first no one could think of what to say.
“So how did it go yesterday?” Mrs. Hakim asked after taking a sip from a tea cup that was sitting on the table.
“Yesterday?” Cornelia asked.
“It went o.k., Mrs. H. but that Carl is a tool,” Admeta said.
“Oh,” Cornelia said, suddenly realizing she meant Writers on the Storm.
“Admeta, What have I said about disrespecting teachers?”
“I know, Mrs. H. I’ll try harder, but it isn’t easy. This week he wants us to write about our favorite thing. What are we? In show and tell? We’re not in kindergarten.”
“Now, Admeta, I know Mr. Zeland is not what you are used to but you have to give him a chance? No?”
“If you say so,” Admeta said curtly.
“He’s not that bad,” Cornelia protested. “He let me read my paper.”
“You wrote a paper?” Mrs. Hakim asked with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
“Yeah. Well it’s the paper you assigned before, well…” Cornelia trailed off.
“Before I fainted.”
“Yes,” Cornelia replied. “I finished it and Carl let me read it.”
“I would love to read it too, Cornelia.” Cornelia looked terrified for a moment. “Do you have it with you?”
“Well, yeah, it’s in my bag, but…”
“Oh please do let me read it. I have so little to read these days that I have not already read. It will be nice to have something new to read.” Cornelia couldn’t deny her teacher anything in the state she was in. She looked paler than Cornelia had ever seen her and she had lost a lot of weight. Cornelia got up to retrieve the paper from her book bag. She could hear whispering coming from the sitting room but she couldn’t understand what was being said. She quickly returned with the paper.
As she sat down and started to hand the paper to her teacher, she said, “Could you wait until we’re gone to read it?”
“Of course, dear. It would be rude to read while I have visitors.” Cornelia breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t imagine sitting in the room with Mrs. Hakim as she read her paper. She was glad she wrote it, but she was still embarrassed.
“I will return it the next time you visit.”
“That’s o.k., I have a copy on my computer. You can keep it,” Cornelia said, hoping the subject of the paper would never come up again.
“Alright, dear,” Mrs. Hakim said and she placed the paper on the coffee table. “So, what have you been up to? I hear we are regional champions, no?”
“That’s a whole other story,” Admeta said and the girls looked at each other knowingly.
“What do you mean, Admeta?” Mrs. Hakim asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Mrs. H. The last thing you need is drama.”
“Oh, I do not know, Admeta, sometimes other people’s drama takes your mind off of your own troubles,” Mrs. Hakim said. The girls felt pangs of regret in their guts. They didn’t want to tell their teacher about the incident at the game, but how could they deny her? In the end they couldn’t and both proceeded to tell the entire story of Friday night’s events, each interjecting their own comments. Mrs. Hakim listened intently, inserting “ohs” and “ahs” when appropriate.
When all was said and done, she asked, “Is Steven alright?”
“Yeah, he’s o.k.,” Admeta answered. “He has a black eye, bruised ribs and some scrapes, but he’ll be alright.”
“And what is going to happen to Chadwick?” Mrs. Hakim asked.
“My dad is going to represent him. He’s never done anything in his whole life, so maybe he will get off easy,” Cornelia said, hopefully.
“One would hope that would be the case,” Mrs. Hakim said. “Although I do not condone violence as an answer to anything.”
“Neither does Chad,” Cornelia said. “Usually, any way.”
“That creep had it coming,” Admeta added.
“Admeta, you know how I feel the subject,” Mrs. Hakim said. Changing the subject, she added, “And how is school?” Both girls grimaced. “Now it cannot possibly be that bad, girls.”
“It’s o.k. I guess,” Cornelia said.
“It will be better once you’re back,” Admeta said and Cornelia looked displeased. She didn’t want Admeta to give Mrs. Hakim any false hope. Cornelia had seen her grandmother in a similar situation. She wasn’t going to pretend everything was alright.
“And what are you young ladies doing for Thanksgiving? Spending it with extended family, no?”
“My dad works on Thanksgiving like it’s any other day,” Admeta said.
“It’s just me and my mom,” Cornelia added. “You’re the second person to ask me that today.”
“And who was the first?”
“Chad.”
“I see.”
“His mom and dad don’t talk to the rest of their family because none of them have gone green.” Mrs. Hakim looked perplexed. “You know, they’re into recycling, vegetarianism, biking instead of driving, that sort of thing.” Mrs. Hakim nodded. “So it’s just him and his parents. They go to the soup kitchen after and serve dinner to the homeless. He asked me over, but since I’m grounded I doubt my mom will agree to go.”
“Well,” Mrs. Hakim said, “In that case you should both consider joining my family for Thanksgiving. Invite Chad’s family as well. We’ll move dinner up to 2 p.m. so you have time to get to the soup kitchen afterward. And I am sure we can find something vegetarian to offer them. Surely your mother will allow you to have dinner on Thanksgiving, no?”
“Thanks, Mrs. H., but I don’t want to…”
“Impose?” Mrs. Hakim interjected.
“Yeah, that,” Admeta said.
“You are not imposing if you are invited, my dear, and so are your families,” Mrs. Hakim said and then smiled brightly. It was the first big smile the girls had seen on her face in a long time. Neither one of them wanted to tell her ‘no.’
“I’ll ask,” Cornelia offered.
“Me too,” Admeta added.
“Why do I get the impression that you are both giving me, how do you say? Lip service?” She asked and winked.
“Honest, Mrs. H.”
“Don’t you mean ‘honestly’ Admeta?” Cornelia asked and both girls giggled.
“There is a story there that I am not privy to, no?” Mrs. Hakim asked facetiously, and she too laughed even though she didn’t know
why.
“Well, do try to come. It is going to be quite the celebration. This year Thanksgiving falls on the first day of Eid ul-Fitr.”
Seeing the confused look on the girls’ faces, she continued, “Eid ul-Fitr, or Eid as most Muslims call it, means the Feast of the Breaking of the Fast. It happens at the end of Ramadan. Do you know what Ramadan is?”
“It’s a Muslim holiday,” Admeta said. Cornelia remained silent.
“You are correct, but it is more of an observance than a holiday. It is actually a month-long fast and the most blessed month of the year.”
“No offence, Mrs. Hakim, but it hasn’t been that blessed for you,” Cornelia said honestly.
“Well, I have not been able to participate in the fast due to my health concerns, so in that way you are correct, Cornelia, but I feel blessed just the same. After all, I am still alive, am I not?” she asked, but the girls knew it was a rhetorical question.
“In fact today is Laylat al-Qadr, which is considered the most holy night of the year. It commemorates the time that the first verses of the Qur’an were revealed to the Muslim people. That is why Mr. Hakim is not here. He took the children to the Masque to celebrate.”
“Your husband is Muslim too?” Cornelia questioned and Admeta elbowed her in the ribs. “Ouch! What?”
“It is alright, Admeta; that is a logical question. No, my husband is not Muslim, he is Christian, but he respects my religious views. We are teaching our children the ways of both of our religions as well as many other religions, so that they may make an informed decision about religion when they are old enough.
“Did you notice that Raja does not wear a hijab? Of course Zayn is far too young yet. I will not permit my daughters to wear a hijab until they are old enough to make the decision for themselves. I do not wish to force any religion upon them. But we do celebrate both religions’ holidays, so they will be knowledgeable.”
“They let him in the Masque even though he’s not Muslim?” Cornelia asked. This time Admeta did not respond with a jab.
“Well of course, dear,” Mrs. Hakim said with a laugh. “All are welcome at the Masque.”
“Why aren’t you wearing your hijab?” Admeta asked, following Cornelia’s lead.
“I only have to dress modestly when I am in the presence of men who are not close family members. If you have seen me with it on at home it is just that I did not bother to remove it after having been somewhere else. I have been nowhere else today. Too weak, I am afraid.” The girls looked worried.
“Now, don’t you fret, young ladies. I am getting stronger every day. I stop chemotherapy very soon and I plan to cook a turkey for Eid.”
“You can eat turkey?” Cornelia asked.
“Of course she can,” Admeta replied with a laugh.
“Now, Admeta, that too, is a logical question. During Ramadan we fast during the day but we break the fast in the evening. As I said, I have not been able to participate this year due to my health. But when we do break the fast, we are permitted to eat just about everything except pork and alcohol. Turkey is perfectly acceptable and I look forward to making one. If you do not show up we will be eating leftovers for weeks. I do hope you will come.”
“We’ll try,” Admeta said. “We should probably let you get your rest now.”
“I enjoy your company, girls, but I am feeling rather tired at the moment.”
“Are you sure it’s o.k. to leave you alone?” Cornelia asked.
“I was alright before you arrived and I will be fine after you have gone, Cornelia,” Mrs. Hakim assured her. Her breath was shallow. She wasn’t fooling anyone, but the girls called Veronica and left just the same.
Cornelia’s mom was waiting at the school by the time the girls got there. They were quiet on the way home. They couldn’t tell Veronica what was really going on with Mrs. Hakim so they said nothing. When Veronica dropped off Admeta, the two girls waved to each other. They each seemed to know what the other was thinking. How could they invite their families over to Mrs. Hakim’s without first warning them about her condition? It would be obvious to them that something more was wrong with Mrs. Hakim than what they were letting on. Still, the girls didn’t want to disappoint her.
Chapter 23
Preparations
Writers on the Storm Page 22