“Really?” Sunny’s smile could have melted an iceberg. “That is so sweet of you, Rick. And thank you again for being so understanding about all of this. I promise I’ll get the rest of it to you as soon as I can.”
“That,” he took another slug of his drink, “would be excellent.”
“Well, bye. I’ll be seeing you.” She stood and flung her bag over her shoulder, giving Sky a little wink before turning to go. She headed out the door, stepping aside to allow a familiar figure in a short, tight, low-cut green dress and a tousled black-and-white updo to pass.
The stool was still warm from Sunny when Kat slid in beside Rick at the bar. She tugged at the hem of her dress and let the six-inch patent leather heels that had been borrowed from her cousin for the evening dangle off her feet. She’d pretended not to notice Sky’s double take when she came through the door. Now he looked as though he was trying hard not to laugh. She’d laughed herself when she first saw her reflection in Sunny’s mirror, after all the makeup and hairspray had been plastered on. The look was either hooker or prom queen, she wasn’t sure which. Even Layla had giggled at the sight. And the perfume! Sunny had sprayed it on so thick it had made her eyes water. She couldn’t wait to get home and shower.
“Well, hello there, little lady,” came a voice from her left.
She looked across the bar at Sky, who gave her a quick nod. “Well hello to you too,” she answered, turning her big brown eyes toward Rick.
“You new around here?” His gaze made a slow journey down the length of her body and back up again.
Kat crossed one long leg over the other and swung her half-shod foot back and forth a little. “Sort of.”
“I thought so. I would have noticed a girl like you before.”
Kat smiled.
“That black-and-white hair thing you’ve got going on is kind of sexy. Sort of Halloween-y, but in a good way.”
She bit her lip and tried not to laugh. “I like to experiment a lot.” Now Rick smiled. His teeth reminded Kat of those little shiny pieces of gum that crunch when you bite them.
“Might I buy you a drink?” he asked.
Kat placed her hand on his forearm. “That is so nice of you. I’d love one.”
“Name your poison.”
“Poison?”
“What do you drink? How about a martini? Me, I like them dirty,” he said with a wink.
“Well then,” she winked back, “dirty works for me.”
“You’ve got it.” He snapped his fingers in the air.
Behind the bar Sky got busy, his hands moving around in a blur. “Enjoy,” he said with a lopsided smile as he slid the drink across to her.
The watered-down gin tasted like shit. “Mmm, delicious,” she said to Sky. “You must have the magic touch.”
“So I’ve been told.” Sky’s eyes sparkled even in the dark.
“Yeah, by whom?” she teased back.
“So,” Rick leaned into the bar between them, “now that I’ve bought you a drink, what do you say you tell me your name?” He propped his chin on his hands, his elbows resting heavily on the sticky wood.
Kat hesitated for a moment. “Bella. Bella Swan,” she answered, the name of her favorite fictional character the first thing that came to mind.
“Bella Swan,” Rick repeated slowly. Sky silently replaced his half-empty glass with a fresh one. Rick, his glassy eyes locked on Kat, didn’t seem to even notice. “And where are you from, Bella Swan?”
“Guess,” Kat answered with a toss of her head.
“All right. Now let’s see.” Rick leaned back, cocked his head, and squinted at Kat. “You talk like an American, you act like an American, but you look kind of like, hmm, let’s see, a Mexican?”
Kat smiled and shook her head. “Guess again.”
“Peru?” He sipped at his drink.
“Nope.”
Rick leaned in toward her. “Guatemala?”
“Wrong again, mon amour.”
“Wait, I think I’ve got this. France!”
Kat laughed. “Fooled you! One more guess. What’ll it be?”
Rick shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. You’re Jewish?”
“That’s not even a place. Give up?”
“That’s no fun. Gimme one more chance.” Again he drained his glass. “How about Spain?”
“Nope. I’m from LA,” she laughed, and took another sip of her watery drink. “So where are you from?” She scooted in a little toward him. Sky pretended to be busy with a customer two stools down.
“Right here, bornanraised,” Rick said, the three words slurring into one.
“Really?” She batted her mascara-coated lashes at him. “I don’t believe you. I didn’t think anyone nearly as good-looking as you lived on this island.” Sky shot her a look from behind Rick’s head.
“Well, I do.”
“Prove it. Show me your driver’s license.” She could see Sky’s look turning into one of awe. “C’mon, I want to see.” She reached her hand out toward Rick’s back pocket.
“It’s in here.” Rick pulled a worn leather wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket. Kat took it from his hand and flipped it open. “Told ya,” he said as he slid off the stool and onto his wobbly legs. “Gotta pee.”
Kat watched as he weaved his way through the men’s-room door. “Yes!” She tossed the wallet to Sky and flashed him two thumbs up.
“Bingo,” he said, as he slid it to the back of a shelf under the bar.
“Can you believe this?” she whispered loudly. “It’s just way too easy, right?”
“So far so good.”
“Give me a real drink, please? My hands are shaking like crazy, not that he’d notice. God, I hope we don’t end up going to jail for this.”
“You’re doing great, babe. We’re almost there.” Sky scooped Rick’s discarded keys off the counter and into his own pocket.
“Shhh, here he comes.”
Rick returned, looking as though he might puke. “Ready to settle up, buddy?” Sky picked up the empty glasses and wiped the bar top with a towel.
“I’m not your buddy,” Rick answered, his mood having turned quickly sour.
“Whoa! It’s all good, pal. No offense meant.”
“S’all right,” Rick answered with a wave of his hand. “Want another?” He plopped his clammy hand on Kat’s knee.
“I’m good.”
“You are good. You’re real good. Wanna show me how good you are, baby?” Rick’s hands slid down her thighs.
Sky looked as if he were about to leap over the bar. Kat stopped Rick’s hands with her own and forced a laugh. “And I’ll just bet you’re real good too, aren’t you?” She stood and smoothed her tight dress over her hips, and leaned in to whisper in Rick’s ear. “Now how about we go somewhere else and get to know each other a little better?”
Sky rolled his eyes.
“Sounds like fun to me.” Kat watched as Rick fumbled around inside his jacket. Then he stood and steadied himself with one hand on the bar while the other made the journey from pocket to pocket, searching for his missing wallet.
“Wallet’s not here. Dunno what I did with it.” He bent down to look under the stool. Kat steadied him with both her hands as he swayed forward. “Not there either.”
“Well then, you’re just going to have to let me look.” She ran her hands playfully over his ass and over his hips to the front pockets of his dark denim jeans. Then she patted the bulge in the front of his jacket. “You sure it’s not in there?”
“Ha!” he said, his eyes widening. “No problem. I got this.” He pulled out the envelope Sunny had given him, and a pair of stiff hundred-dollar bills were delivered across the bar to Sky. “Keep the change, my man.” Rick tucked the envelope back into his jacket and started for the door.
Kat and Sky exchanged a quick glance. “Hey, Rick, very funny,” Sky called after him.
“Huh?” Rick returned to the bar, his face a rubbery question mark.
&nb
sp; “What, did you print these up yourself?” Sky pulled out a thick-tipped marker and ran it across one of the bills. “See?” He held it up for Kat. “Fake as they come. If it were real, this black mark would come out as yellow.”
“Why, Rick, you’re quite the bad boy, aren’t you?” Kat laughed.
“What are talking about? C’mon, Bella, let’s get outta here.” Kat pulled back as Rick reached for her arm. “I said let’s go,” he repeated, louder this time.
Sky appeared from behind the bar in a flash. “She’s not going anywhere with you, jerk. And if you don’t leave her alone and get out of here right now I’m gonna call the cops and tell them you’ve been trying to pass off fake bills. That’s a federal offense, just in case you didn’t know.”
“What the …?” Rick’s features appeared to harden as the realization of what had happened began to sink in through the gin. He stood frozen for a moment, his gaze moving from Sky to Kat to the handful of regulars remaining on their stools, their eyes now all on him. It wasn’t until Sky pulled a phone from his pocket that Rick began to back slowly toward the door.
Kat could tell that Sky was trying hard not to laugh, the corners of his mouth held firm and tight. She scooted around to the back of the bar as she tried to control her own laughter. “And don’t forget this!” she cried, tossing Rick’s wallet across the worn wooden floor to his feet. “You might want to buy a girl a drink someday.”
And then the door of The Dirty Monkey slammed shut, as Rick disappeared into the silent Twimbly evening.
34
Najama sat cross-legged on the pebbled ground, tirelessly bouncing the red ball up and down in front of Poppy’s flaring nose. The dog, flopped on her side in the afternoon heat, looked back at the girl through half-closed eyes, her tail rising and slapping back on to the ground every so often in a lazy wag.
Ahmet and his mother watched them in silence, lost in the haunting echoes that remained within the courtyard’s walls. Neither of them had spent any time out here since the attack, save to walk back and forth from the front gate, its guardhouse now standing empty and still. But today’s balmy weather had drawn them both from the house, with Najama as an excuse to take in some fresh air. Now Ahmet noticed that the hyacinth and fuchsia vines that had once helped to provide shade for their customers had turned brittle and bare from lack of care. Even the silly peahen was gone, nowhere to be seen since the day of the attack. Some Shangri-La, he thought, remembering what Sunny used to call this spot.
Upstairs, above the dark coffeehouse, Yazmina was resting, exhausted from the nine long months of carrying another life within her. Ahmet felt a twinge of regret as he pictured her up there struggling to find a comfortable position for her swollen body. They had had yet another argument yesterday, this one lasting so long into the night that he had trouble rousing himself for morning prayers. Again they fought about that ridiculous girl. That Yazmina and his mother insisted on allowing her to hide in their home was unacceptable to him. And that he did not seem to have the power to stop them made him feel as though he were as weak as a newborn calf.
“What is wrong with you that you need to be so involved in this family’s problems?” he had lashed out at his wife after yet another refusal to make the girl leave. “All the unnecessary drama, with that funeral that wasn’t a funeral. You are just being lured into things that will bring more trouble to our family. And I refuse to allow it.”
“I know you might not believe that Zara was the cause of the attack. But I have seen the look in this girl’s eyes, I have heard the fear in her words. I have been this girl in the past, trembling at the sound of a footstep, freezing at the touch of a hand.” Yazmina shifted clumsily on her toshak. “I had no voice of my own to protect me, yet I did have the good fortune to find women like Sunny and Halajan who spoke up for me and helped me make my way. Helping this girl is important to me, and I would hope that with something so important you would grant me your support.”
“Support? Why should I support something that brings such a risk to our home?”
Yazmina straightened her back against the wall, the anger growing like a freshly lit flame in her green eyes, the same pair of eyes that had once warmed him and weakened him and confused him. “And you don’t think it was difficult for me to support you and your endless meetings?” she continued. “That I didn’t worry about the rumors I heard being shared by those who pictured gambling and prostitutes and the drinking of alcohol going on behind those closed doors? Did I ever ask you to stop? No. I was willing to take the risk because I trusted in your belief that you were doing something good.”
“And what good is it doing to hide this girl?” Ahmet stood and crossed his arms defiantly in front of his body
“I know it is doing good for her. And that must mean something,” she said with her face turned up toward him. “Whether it is just one girl or many is not the measure of how important it is to me. This way of treating girls cannot be right, and it cannot continue. It is a problem in our country that must be fixed. And maybe this is my way of trying to fix it,” she continued, her cheeks now moist with tears.
“You are just feeling this way because of your condition,” he said, pointing to her belly.
“How dare you use our daughter to doubt the strength of my feelings!” she hissed.
“It will be a welcome day when this is over and my son arrives to help me keep my sanity in this house of crazy women!” he spat back.
And so it had gone throughout the night, without either of them backing down. He had seen his wife angry before, especially during the weeks since the attack on the coffeehouse, but never had he felt such fire coming from within her. And he did have to wonder, to himself, if perhaps he was witnessing the beginning of a new Yazmina, one who might manage to match her courage with her heart in ways he feared he never could.
Now, sitting in the courtyard with Halajan and Najama, he felt irritable and tired. He scowled at his mother as she pulled the scarf from her head.
“What? It is only us out here.” She ran her fingers through her short grey hair.
“Well someone might come in.”
“Then let them. Do you think an old lady’s bare head will cause the world to end?” She reached into her pocket for a cigarette.
“And what kind of example are you for the child?” he snapped.
“What kind of example are you for the child?” she snapped back in a harsh whisper. “You sit around here all day as if you were a brooding hen. I do not even see you going to classes.”
Ahmet lifted his eyebrows. “What is the point of me going to school when I need to be working to support my family?”
“Is that what you are doing here in this courtyard? Working to support your family? Because I don’t see much work happening in front of my eyes.”
“So just what do you expect me to do?” he shouted, throwing his arms into the air.
“Lower your voice!” she warned, pointing toward Najama with her chin.
Ahmet continued in a quieter, clipped manner. “The only thing I know is being a chokidor, and there is not much use for guards these days. Just look around you, at the half-built houses and deserted construction sites. Everyone with any money to pay another man is leaving. There is no more work for translators or drivers, or uneducated chokidors like me.”
“Well, then you are just going to have to try a little harder. Do not wait for someone else to hand you the answers.” She flicked her lighter and held the flame to the tip of the cigarette.
“You have wings. Learn to use them and fly.”
“And what do you mean by that? Is that your beloved Rumi speaking once again?”
Halajan simply shrugged her shoulders.
“No, I mean it,” Ahmet insisted. “What are you saying?”
She inhaled and exhaled slowly toward the sun, the smoke rising above their heads like a genie escaping from a bottle. “You are still acting like a little boy, my son,” she began, “taking what others give, ye
t not able to give to yourself.”
Ahmet placed both palms on the table as if preparing to rise.
“No, you sit right here and hear me out,” his mother demanded in a tone he hadn’t heard since he was a child. Ahmet remained frozen as she continued. “You had your job in the guardhouse thanks to Sunny, and then it was the money from the coffeehouse that allowed you to go to the university. And it was Rashif who provided you with the ideas that freed your mind from its rusty chains. And what have you done with all those gifts? You have become a big man with a big mouth. You think I don’t hear the things you say to your wife? And the way you treat me, as if you are now my Taliban.”
Ahmet leaned in toward her. “What I say to my wife is not your business. And you, sometimes I think you are the way you are just to annoy me.” He sat back up and fixed his gaze straight ahead, away from her.
“Do not flatter yourself,” Halajan snorted. “I am the way I am because it pleases me. And because there are things I believe in that I, unlike some people, must take a stand for.”
“How can you dare to say that to me? What about my meetings?”
“A bunch of boys sitting in a room talking. All that babble about changing the world, what good has it done?”
“These things take time,” Ahmet protested. “Do you think we can simply demand the end to ways that have existed for so many years?”
“Yes.” Halajan closed her eyes and rubbed them with her palms. “You are right that big changes take time, but there are also things we can do every day that can make a difference to the future of our people.”
“I am not willing to wear my inner thoughts on my sleeve for all the world to see. I am not like you, Mother.” Or like Yazmina, he thought, remembering with a little envy her spirit from the night before.
“Ah, but you are smart like your father, and clever like me, my son.” Halajan touched her cropped head with one bony finger. “And you also have the blessing of being surrounded with good fortune.”
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