by Umm Zakiyyah
“How’s school going?” Veronica asked as she gripped the steering wheel and glanced at Inaya, only her eyes visible through her favored black veil.
Inaya forced a smile, and for some reason she thought about how Sa’ad and Veronica had been arguing a lot lately. Sometimes Veronica would ask Inaya to stay with Chris for the weekend, and Veronica went to stay with her own mother for a couple of days.
But recently, Sa’ad had been gone a lot, sometimes for more than a week at a time, and Inaya felt horrible for hoping that he’d never come back. Even Dana and Chris didn’t seem to be working out because Dana was furious at Chris for becoming Muslim.
“It’s fine,” Inaya said before looking out the passenger-side window.
But Sa’ad would always come back home eventually, and he and Veronica would behave like two newlyweds until Inaya grew sick at the sight of them cuddling, giggling, and holding hands.
In the midst of all of this, Inaya began to feel invisible, which was probably why she had started to wish her mother would discover her secret.
But recently, Inaya had decided it was best to keep things as they were. She wanted that Future Hope Scholarship after all, and if that meant Mrs. Ford never knowing she was Muslim, so be it.
When Veronica turned the car into the pathway leading to the school, there were still handfuls of students making their way to the building.
The rain was now a light drizzle, and the sun had started to break through the clouds. The humming of the car engine prompted some students to turn and look in the direction of the sound. Many did a double take at the sight of Inaya’s mother—who probably looked like a bona fide terrorist to them.
Mortified, Inaya turned her face away from the window and sank low in her seat. She hoped to God that no one would recognize her through the water-beaded glass.
Veronica glanced in Inaya’s direction, and Inaya pretended to be rummaging through her purse. She hoped her mother wouldn’t become suspicious enough to ask any questions—or to follow Inaya inside.
Fortunately, Veronica maneuvered the car through the car-packed parking lot instead of stopping near the main door, where school buses still blocked the front driveway of the school.
“Hopefully, you’re not too late,” Veronica said as she slowed the car to a stop near a side door where some students were making their way up the small flight of concrete steps.
Inaya nodded, but she barely heard her mother as she looked out the window to gauge how “safe” it was to walk from the car to the building while wearing obvious Islamic garb.
Inaya was grateful that she didn’t have to walk through the main door, but the side door put her near Mrs. Ford’s office. If Inaya wanted to remove her garments in a bathroom instead of the hall, she would have to pass the Student Affairs Office first. But even removing the clothes in the corridor meant she’d be in sight of Mrs. Ford if Mrs. Ford happened to be walking down the hall or standing outside her office door for any reason.
“As-salaamu’alaikum,” Veronica called out as Inaya opened the passenger side door and stepped outside.
“Wa’alaiku mus salaam,” Inaya mumbled, dropping her head as she shut the car door. She hoped no one would see her face before she got inside the building and stripped off the jilbaab and khimaar.
Inaya speed-walked to the side door without even as much as glancing back at her mother. She hoped her mother would assume her behavior was due to being late rather than to Inaya feeling ashamed to be seen with her.
Inaya opened the heavy door and stepped inside, her heart pounding wildly as she quickly surveyed the hall. Some of the few students in the corridor glanced in Inaya’s direction upon hearing the door open, but Inaya sighed relief when she realized that none of them were classmates or friends.
The door closed behind her, and Inaya instinctively glanced behind her through the rectangular glass to see if her mother was still outside. Fortunately, it was only a matter of seconds before her mother’s car disappeared from view.
From where Inaya stood, she could see that Mrs. Ford’s office door was propped open, which meant that Mrs. Ford was either inside or had run a quick errand and would return shortly.
Her face aflame in shame, Inaya turned her body toward the exit door and tugged at the khimaar until it hung on her neck and shoulders like a winter scarf. She yanked at the sides of the jilbaab until it revealed the outfit she’d chosen that morning in the rush to get ready for school.
Inaya ignored the guilt that gnawed at her as she realized her drab outfit choice was less flattering than the Islamic clothes she was shedding.
Taking a deep breath, Inaya turned and started down the hallway toward the bathroom at the end of the hall.
“Good lord,” Inaya heard a familiar voice say, and she looked up to find Mrs. Ford standing in front of her office door holding a manila folder in one hand. “Is it that cold, or are you unwell?”
“I’m not feeling well,” Inaya said quickly, running a hand over her hair self-consciously.
Mrs. Ford smiled. “Well, that explains it,” she said. “You must be just getting to school.”
Inaya nodded. “Yes, I was running late.”
“Too bad for you,” Mrs. Ford said with a frown, but Inaya knew the faculty advisor was only teasing her. “I went to find you after the announcement, but Mr. Rhodes said you were absent for homeroom.”
Inaya’s heart raced at Mrs. Ford’s reference to the Future Hope Scholarship announcement. Had Inaya won? Inaya was so hopeful that her breath caught.
“Congratulations, Inaya Donald,” Mrs. Ford said with a broad smile. “You’re our new Future Hope scholar.”
Chapter 19
The Secret
Inaya was so excited she felt like screaming and dancing through the halls.
Following the announcement, Inaya spent the entire week as if in another world. The annual honor’s program was next month, and as was the school’s yearly tradition, the Future Hope scholar would be the keynote speaker at the event.
Inaya spent nearly every evening after the announcement surfing the internet for the best school speeches in recent history.
Mrs. Ford had personally given Inaya copies of previous Future Hope scholar speeches, and Inaya kept the small stack in a folder on the desk in her bedroom. She had planned to read through each of them, but when she saw the name Raymond Dirks at the top of one paper, she lost her enthusiasm.
If there was one thing that could disrupt her peace of mind so completely, it was the sight of his name—or the sight of him.
After their talk in late December, Raymond never asked Inaya about what she’d decided to do about Mrs. Ford, but Inaya sensed that he knew she hadn’t gone through with telling Mrs. Ford the truth. And she could tell he was disappointed in her.
As if he has a right to judge me, Inaya thought angrily. But the indignant feeling would pass quickly as the true source of her anxiety choked her.
Despite becoming Muslim, Raymond still chose Lyrica over her—even though Lyrica refused to even consider the idea of accepting Islam (or any religion) for herself.
A few weeks ago, Chris told Inaya that Raymond finally divulged to Lyrica his conversion to Islam, and now, conveniently, Lyrica’s hatred of religion wasn’t as strong as before…though she wasn’t religious herself.
“I think he’s going to ask to marry her,” Chris had joked.
The words were like daggers in Inaya’s heart, and she couldn’t even meet her father’s gaze she was so upset.
“Really?” Inaya had said, unable to muster even the slightest pretence of excitement at the news.
“Well, he says there’s no other way for them to be together.”
Bull, Inaya had thought, annoyed. But she knew it was just her jealousy talking.
Inaya half considered telling Raymond that a Muslim man wasn’t allowed to marry an atheist, but whenever she was tempted to confront him, she decided against it. Her motives were not pure, so she should hold her tongue until
they were.
But now that Inaya had the Future Hope speech to think about, she could forget about Raymond and focus on more important things.
A part of Inaya knew that she was walking on thin ice with this whole honor’s program business. After all, how likely was it that she could keep something as major as this a secret? Past Future Hope scholars were announced in local newspapers and posted on YouTube. And this year Mrs. Ford implied that the coverage might be even more.
“She’s full of hot air,” Lyrica had said a few days ago during lunch. “She exaggerates for the sake of attention.”
The remark hadn’t been related to the Future Hope Scholarship national news coverage that Mrs. Ford had shared with Inaya, but Lyrica’s remarks did offer Inaya a different perspective on her dilemma.
Yes, it was true that scholarship winners were regularly announced in local and national news—in print, on television, and online. But how popular were these stories really? Even YouTube didn’t pose any real threat because most videos there were practically nonentities.
Even Inaya’s own internet search on her high school revealed that the school was relatively unknown. The most hits any of its YouTube videos had didn’t exceed five hundred, and many had been posted years ago.
Besides, Veronica wasn’t a television watcher. She didn’t read any print newspapers (other than in the doctor’s or dentist office). And she went online only to check her email. Veronica didn’t even have a Facebook account because she felt the social medium was inappropriate.
So what was Inaya worried about?
If by some rare chance her mother happened upon the news story, it would probably be years old by then and hence irrelevant. By that time, Inaya would likely be wearing hijab full-time again, and she could simply explain to her mother how difficult covering had been for her as a teenager.
Her mother would be upset, Inaya imagined. But admitting to a past sin was much easier than having it staring you right in the face—through your mother’s own eyes—in present tense.
Yeah, Inaya could live with that possibility…if she ever crossed that bridge at all.
But for now, Inaya had to find some convincing reason to stay with her father in mid-April. Then she could sneak off to the annual honor’s program—without her mother (or father) knowing anything about it.
Chapter 20
The Surprise
Veronica groaned as she rushed back to the kitchen to finish preparing the meal. Abdullah, who seemed to have learned to crawl, walk, and run all in the span of just a few weeks, was wreaking havoc on the apartment, and Veronica felt as if she had to be in a million places at once.
Veronica wished she could just let her son run around outside. But living in an apartment robbed her of that freedom, so she had to settle for letting him look out the window in the living room.
The mid-April weather was warm, the perfect day to slide open the patio window and sit with her son on the balcony outside. But Veronica couldn’t chance an 11-month-old falling over the ledge.
Normally, Inaya would be home to help her, but Inaya had nagged Veronica to the point of annoyance to spend a week with her father before final exams started in May.
“But he’s Muslim now,” Inaya had whined when Veronica said she didn’t feel comfortable with Inaya spending too much time at his house.
At the reminder, Veronica had reluctantly agreed. She didn’t know how genuine her ex-husband’s claim was, but it wasn’t her place to judge him. But Veronica found his conversion to Islam hard to believe.
The kitchen timer beeped, and just as Veronica reached to silence it, the shrill of the phone sent her heart racing. She sighed and turned off the stove before making her way to the cordless phone affixed to the kitchen wall.
She walked to the living room to check on Abdullah as she pressed the talk button.
“Hello?”
“As-salaamu’alaikum!”
The excited voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Veronica couldn’t place it.
“Wa’alaliku-mus-salaam wa-rahmatullaah,” she said cautiously.
“Is this Veronica?”
“Yes…”
“This is Amal.”
Veronica creased her forehead, trying to place the name with a face.
“From the weekend school.”
“Oh,” Veronica said, laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize your voice.”
“It’s no problem,” Amal said. “I don’t call often, so it’s understandable.”
“Is everything okay?” Veronica asked, suddenly realizing there might be a problem with Inaya’s Qur’an class.
Amal laughed. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine. I’m just calling to say congratulations.”
Veronica knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “Was there another award ceremony at the Islamic school?”
“No,” Amal said, humor in her tone. “I’m talking about the honor ceremony this Friday at the high school.”
“At the high school?” Veronica repeated, her eyes following Abdullah as he zoomed past her.
“Inaya didn’t tell you she won the Distinguished Student Award and the Future Hope Scholarship?” Amal said, pride in her voice. “MaashaAllah, it’s the first time that a Muslim student has won either award. We’re so proud of her.”
“Oh…” Veronica reached down to scoop up Abdullah before he knocked over one of her plants, but he wriggled free and took off running again. “She didn’t mention it.”
There was an awkward pause.
“Really? I just assumed…” Amal’s voice trailed, and Veronica’s face warmed in embarrassment.
“She’s staying with her father this week,” Veronica said quickly. She hated the thought of Amal thinking Inaya had purposefully withheld the information from her.
“Well…” Amal said, the excited tone returning to her voice, but Veronica sensed it was forced. “…when Nasra told me about it, I knew I had to give you a call.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
There was another pause, and Veronica sensed Amal was trying to decide what to say next.
“Nasra is getting a couple of awards too,” Amal said. “But she won’t be giving a speech or anything.”
“Inaya’s giving a speech?” Veronica couldn’t hide her shock.
“Yes, of course. The Future Hope Scholarship winner always gives the keynote address at these ceremonies.”
“So you’ve gone to this…ceremony before?”
“Yes, every year,” Amal said, laughter in her voice. “Since her freshman year, Nasra’s managed to squeeze at least one award out of the school.”
“That’s great,” Veronica said, but her thoughts were distracted. Why hadn’t Inaya mentioned any of this to her?
Veronica thought of how insistent Inaya had been to visit her father, and Veronica’s heart fell in the realization that Inaya had probably intentionally kept this from her.
But why? Wasn’t this something Inaya would be proud of?
“Do you mind if we do a small piece about Inaya in the Islamic community’s newsletter?”
It took a second for Veronica to process Amal’s question. “Of course not,” she said. “We’d be honored.”
“Do you think Inaya would mind?”
Veronica hesitated then chuckled. “Honestly, I have no idea. But I think this is too good to keep secret. It’s time Muslims had some good press these days.”
“I agree,” Amal said. “Besides, the local newspapers and television stations usually cover the event. It’ll be good if Muslim media show their support.”
Veronica halted her steps in front of the couch. “This event is covered on the news?”
“Yes, every year.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“It’s never a big story though,” Amal said. “But if you search hard enough, you’ll find some mention of it in the middle of the newspaper. Sometimes even a couple of two-millimeter pictures are printed with it.”
They both laughed.
“Well,” Veronica said, “if the non-Muslims are making even a tiny fuss about it, then Muslims need to make a bigger fuss.”
“I don’t know how big of a fuss we can make, but I can put a piece in our newsletter.”
“Then let’s fill the audience with Muslims.”
There was a slight pause. “That’s an excellent idea!” Amal said finally. “Nasra’s on the Student Council. I’m sure she can sneak us a few extra tickets.”
“We’ll need more than a few,” Veronica said, liking Amal’s idea. “We want standing-room-only in there.” She laughed. “But do see what Nasra can do for us.”
“I think this will be excellent da’wah for the teachers and parents at the weekend school,” Amal said.
“Da’wah?” Veronica repeated, laughing. “How would this teach Muslims about Islam?”
“Oh you know more than I do how snobbish some Muslims can be,” Amal said.
Veronica grew quiet, immediately reminded of how difficult it was for her to get along with Sa’ad’s family.
“It’s time for Muslims to learn what a real American Muslim looks like,” Amal said humorously.
Veronica chuckled beside herself. “If you say so.”
“I’ll do what I can to fill the audience with as many parents and teachers from the Islamic school as I can,” Amal said. “It’ll be a nice surprise for them.”
Chapter 21
A Dilemma
“Isn’t it obvious?” Anisa’s voice asked through the receiver Wednesday evening.
Abdullah was asleep in the small bed Veronica had set up for him in the room she shared with Sa’ad. Her eyes rested on the rising and falling of her son’s chest as she sat with her back propped against the headboard. Sa’ad still hadn’t returned from work, but Veronica had asked his opinion about Inaya’s secrecy before he left that morning.