by Ayse Hafiza
“I know.”
“Are you sure he was in? Why didn’t you knock on the door?” asked Laila.
“How could I, we’re not meant to go back. I didn’t want to get in trouble.”
Laila nodded, Idris was right. The children weren’t meant to go home, not until their parents said they should. Saima listened to their conversation, she didn’t like it, not one bit.
What was Lizzy doing? She wanted to ask, but it had been with difficulty that she had managed to get rid of her presence. Saima knew that she wasn’t going to let that old woman back into her life, no matter how curious she was about what was happening in their old house.
One day after school their mom took a different route, and the children knew by the roads she was taking that she was bringing them home. They wondered if she had been just as curious about Dad as they had. The familiar route gave them comfort, with Dad around he would be able to tell if something was wrong with their mom. When they got there, they stood outside their house. Kawser looked tired, taking a deep breath she pushed open the gate, the children piled in after her.
The idea of being back inside the house scared Saima, she had been attacked by Lizzy inside this house. Idris had noted her reaction and put his arm around her. He was there to protect her, she wouldn’t forget that.
Kawser rung the bell and waited, but there was no answer. The house looked just how Idris had described it. The curtains on all the windows were drawn. The glass of the front door was frosted, so there was no way to see through it clearly. Suddenly a large figure loomed in the background. Their mom took a deep breath, she had been startled. Who was in their home?
She pressed the bell again more urgently.
The person in the house walked toward the glass, put their hand on the lock and began to open the door. Kawser shuffled the children behind her body to shield them. The door was opened slightly, and a disheveled Uncle Waleed stood in the doorway.
“Waleed!” she exclaimed.
The children peered out from behind her.
“Kawser, kids, come in,” he said with a smile.
The children piled into the house. They were home.
Saima slowly made her way upstairs to their bedroom, she couldn’t feel her in the room. The presence of Lizzy had been strongest here. Walking to the top of the stairs, she didn’t need to look down to see them, she knew they were speaking about Dad.
“He called me one day, said he wasn’t feeling well. But that he had sent you all away. I didn’t know where you were, or how to reach you,” said Waleed explaining himself.
“Okay, we were house-sitting for Manzar while he was meant to sell the house,” said their mom.
“But he told the estate agent he wanted to stop the process. That he had changed his mind.”
“What?”
“Yes. I swear it. I want you to sell it, but just last week he stopped everything.”
Saima took a deep breath, she shouldn’t have been listening, but she couldn’t help it.
“Stopped the process, but he knows that it’s not. . .here.”
Saima knew the word Mom whispered was safe.
“You need to speak to him,” Uncle Waleed said.
“I think so,” said mom.
“But you should know, he’s not been going to work. He’s acting really strange.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, it’s like he’s developed a different personality. The biggest thing is that he isn’t talking to me anymore. It’s worrying because you know we’ve always been close. I started to worry about him, that’s why I came back from America, and now he seems different almost distant.”
Kawser listened to his words.
Saima stepped away, she could feel a chill travel down her spine. Turning her eyes to the back of the house, there was another ghost she needed to check on. She walked to the back window, and stood on the bed, pulling herself up with the window sill, she looked across the garden at the garage window.
She couldn’t see him.
He was normally always there, had their dad gone into the garage by himself? He was an adult why didn’t he listen to his own instructions?
Looking at the carpet fibers, Saima sat down and raked her fingernails through them. If the old man wasn’t in the garage then where was he, and was she brave enough to walk into the garage and find him? Saima was starting to miss Lizzy. Going downstairs she noticed Dad sitting in an armchair in front of the television. She walked up to him, he looked the same. He pulled her close, and she gave him a big hug. He hadn’t shaved for a few days and the bristles on his face scratched her skin, but she didn’t mind. For the time, Saima was in her dads lap, and this was home.
Her parents were here, Uncle Waleed and her brother and sister, and that meant that they were together. So why did Saima feel that things were not as they should be, as a child she had trouble verbalizing her feelings.
At bedtime, Saima trudged upstairs with Idris, and like her, he too was concerned about spending time in the house. They dressed in their night clothes and climbed into bed. Their father didn’t come to read them a story as he used to. They wanted to look for him. But their mom warned them that Daddy wasn’t feeling so well, so a bedtime story might not happen.
Saima and Idris snuck onto the top stair to listen to their parents and Uncle Waleed talk. Resting her head on her brother’s shoulder they huddled together, trying to make sense of their family’s decisions.
“So, have you had any success with Mr. Sullivan?” asked Kawser, they could hear the mask in her voice, as she tried to sound casual. They knew she wanted to ask that question as soon as she had stepped into the house.
“No, he can’t find anyone.”
Had their father lied?
Both Idris and Saima looked at each other. Kawser knew Rashid instructed Mr. Sullivan to stop the sales process.
“He said the market conditions were too tough and so I decided to stop the process,” their father replied.
He could tell from the tension-filled silence that wasn’t enough for their mom.
“So, you asked Mr. Sullivan to stop?” she asked for clarification.
“Yes.”
“But I thought we decided that we should sell it,” said their mom urgently.
“Yes, I know, but since you weren’t here, I decided not to.”
“But the kids?”
“The kids are fine, you all just needed a break. That’s what happened when you were at Manzar’s house. And Saima seems fine,” their father raised his voice.
“Rashid quiet, please, they’ll hear you,” mom pleaded.
It was too late, Saima couldn’t stop the tears that escaped. She realized she was the reason her parents argued. Idris put his arm around her and pulled her in close. Using her left hand, she muffled the sounds of her sobs. She didn’t want her parents to realize that they were eavesdropping on them.
“Besides it’s my house, and we’re going to stay. I have decided,” said their father using his this is final tone.
“The safety of the kids Rashid, what are you thinking? Don’t you remember the massive welt Saima had on her cheek, something is hurting her in this house!”
“What?” asked Uncle Waleed.
They could hear paced footsteps in the room below, so the kids stood up, getting ready to dash back into their bedroom and pretend they were sleeping.
Mom whispered something to Waleed. They knew she was filling him in on the attack Saima had endured.
“I told you someone could get hurt,” warned Waleed. “This isn’t going to work Rashid, you need to do something. There is something attacking your family in this house.”
“Waleed this is my house. I am the man of this family, and this is my home. We are happy here, and Saima just needed a break she seems fine now.”
Rashid wasn’t playing, they could hear it in his voice, he was getting irritated.
“I’m going to sleep, Kawser you should sleep down here,” he instructed Kawser.
>
“Why?” she asked.
“Waleed told you, I’m not feeling well. No point us both being sick,” he opened the door fully.
Rushing quickly back to their room the children heard their father’s steps as he left the room. What was happening? Their father had never raised his voice to Uncle Waleed before and he had decided they would stay in the house, without discussing it with mom. The words which hurt Saima was her father blaming everything on her, that was how she understood it as she cried into her pillow. She had been sick, and that had been a problem.
His heavy footsteps stopped outside their bedroom door and the children held their breaths as they pretended they were sleeping. After a moment or two he moved on, Idris crept out of his bed and stealthily crept between his sisters. Tonight Idris slept in the double bed between them. They were back in the home that made one of them sick, and this was the way things would be from now on.
In the middle of the night, mom joined them in the back room, upon seeing Idris asleep between his sisters she climbed into his bed and fell asleep.
They woke to the sound of the toilet flush as she came back into their bedroom. All the children quietly got out of bed and began to dress, and their mom pulled on her dressing gown before going downstairs to make breakfast. None of them spoke. When the door was closed, and they were alone, they rubbed the sleep from their eyes.
“Did you see Mom?” asked Laila fear in her voice audible.
“What about her?” asked Idris.
“She slept with her eyes open, and she had a creepy smile on her face. . .what’s happening? I don’t like it,” Laila confessed in a shaky voice.
Idris gasped.
It wasn’t news to Saima, both the children looked at her as she tried to get her arm into the sleeve of her dressing gown and in her young mind attempted to hide that fact.
“Saima, did you hear me?” asked Laila looking for a reaction.
“Yes.”
“So you noticed that about Mom before?”
“Yes, she started to sleep like that at Manzar uncles house.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Saima shrugged, what was she meant to say that mom had adopted a new sleeping style and that it was creepy? Ignoring her brother and sister, she turned and made her way to the door.
“Saima!” exclaimed Laila who obviously expected more of a reaction.
Idris nudged her, and when Saima shuffled out of the bedroom, she knew Idris would tell Laila the conversation that the adults were having last night.
“Kids come and have breakfast,” their mom called from the bottom of the stairs.
The normality of the call for breakfast allowed a fleeting feeling of comfort to creep back into their hearts.
19
New Normal
All the children watched as their mom prepared breakfast, she wafted in and out of the kitchen picking up cereal boxes and putting the milk on the table as well as making tea for their father and their uncle. But instead of putting the tea for their father on the table with the food for the family, she had left it on the kitchen counter which was the only thing that was odd in their mom’s behavior. That was not normal, but the children didn’t pay too much attention to it maybe it was because with Uncle Waleed was in the house and there wasn’t room for their father’s things. When they left for school Rashid still hadn’t woken up, and his children left thinking about how he must have been really ill.
Upon reaching the school gates, their mom kissed each of them with those cool icy lips and waved them off. Saima didn’t like it, and she didn’t want to get used to that feeling, but it was becoming the new normal.
“Don’t worry about Dad. I’m going to take him to the doctor,” she called after them. Kawser could see the children breathe a sigh of relief, she knew it was playing on their minds. Their father was unwell, and it had been serious enough for his brother to come back from America, but Kawser was going to deal with it, and everything would be fine. Everything would be back to normal.
The children went to their classes, played with their friends in the yard and had lunch, but through the day Saima could feel Idris was keeping an eye on her. He had been on his guard ever since returning home and things had become strange once more. The feeling of comfort for the three children was rare, but at least school was normal, a place they could remind themselves that they were still children.
In art class, Saima looked at the black and white paints in front of her, then the blank paper. Thoughtfully she painted the lines of the face she remembered so clearly. In her own way, she was saying goodbye. Before her on the page was the face of her old friend, she knew it so well she could paint it with her eyes closed. It was also the face that haunted her sleep and had been with her watching her for the last year. Deep venomous crags emanated from the abyss of her eyes. The cracks were like dry earth but blackened by the negative energy that she gave off.
The teacher was in the habit of walking behind the children as they worked, looking at their pictures of beautiful colorful butterflies, or the smoking chimney stacks on houses with happy families standing outside. When she stopped behind Saima though a chill ran down her spine and her eyes widened. She looked into the black eyes of an unmistakable angry old woman.
“That’s inventive Saima, who is she?” asked the teacher, making sure she hid the chill in her voice.
“She’s. . .a friend.”
“Really? Where do you know her from? And are you sure her eyes are black?”
“Yes. Black like her heart Miss Sands and cold like her touch,” said Saima.
“That’s is quite some description. . .did you stay up watching a film you shouldn’t have?”
The little girl shook her head side to side, her hair bounced with the motion.
‘Of course she had,’ thought the teacher as she smiled and patted the girl on the head. Saima had an older sister and brother, that was normal for children with older siblings, and now it seemed that Saima had learnt to be a good liar.
Moving on the teacher walked behind the other children looking at their work. Saima left the painting to dry in the classroom, she didn’t want to take it home. She didn’t want to show her brother that she had been thinking of Lizzy. That would have been against his advice. Idris said not to speak with Lizzy, that advice included not even thinking about her and Saima knew that her brother’s wise words were keeping her safe from being beaten again. Hesitantly she touched her face, her fingertip tracing the place the angry welt had been before, it had been wrong of Lizzy to strike her. Friends didn’t hit each other.
While walking to their mom as she waited at the school gates, Saima noted that her teacher was in the yard, that was quite unusual, so she quickened her pace as she approached mom. Unhelpfully Idris had been dragging his feet, which gave Miss. Sands ample time to reach them.
“Mrs. Khan? Mrs. Khan!” Saima’s teacher extending her hand as she caught up with the children.
“Hello Miss Sands,” their mom replied as she accepted and shook it.
“How are you?” asked the teacher.
“Good, thank you, how can I help you?”
Saima’s eyes fell to the ground, she wondered what it was that she could have done wrong as she retraced the day in her mind.
“It’s just that Saima seems to have a very active imagination, and I just wanted to make you aware that she shouldn’t watch too much television at night time because it seems to play on her mind,” said the teacher with a practiced breezy tone.
“Of course,” nodded their mom agreeing.
The little girl worried that maybe Miss Sands had noted the welt on her face, what if the teacher thought their mom had done it? Saima didn’t know what would happen if that was the case, but she didn’t like the adults speaking about her. Things that were secrets that shouldn’t be discussed might come up.
Kawser seemed to have the same instinct.
“Of course, Miss Sands, there won’t be too much television.
”
Their mom had a quizzical look on her face.
The children broke the awkward moment by stepping away, and their mom excused herself and followed them.
Laila glanced up at their mom, and she shrugged.
“What happened?” asked Idris studying Saima.
She shrugged, it was exactly the conversation that she didn’t want to have with Idris, the one where she had to mention Lizzy name. They ran home with their mom and Laila in tow. When they got in their father was there as was their uncle, both men were talking with raised voices. Sensing the children had overheard, their mom fixed a smile on her face before trying to distract them.
“Go wash up and let me fix you a snack.” She ushered them out of the hall and away from the raised voices.
The children ran upstairs to change out of their school uniforms, and Kawser headed into the kitchen to push around pots and pans, a signal to the men that they weren’t alone anymore.
Upstairs in the bedroom, the children sat on their beds and looked at each other.
“What do you think Dad and Uncle Waleed were arguing about?” a curious Idris asked Laila.
She looked at him and gestured with a shrug that she didn’t know. “They never argue.”
Saima nodded, that was how she remembered their relationship. They only ever spoke kind words to each other.
“Well maybe it’s because Dads not feeling well,” suggested Laila, reminding them all of his illness and how he was meant to go see the doctor.
“Did mom mention anything?” Idris asked Laila.
“No, she didn’t bring the subject up on the way home.”
And that was that, they were going to find out.
The children trudged downstairs, unsure if the grownups were finished talking, but they were still curious about what the adults were discussing heatedly.
The kids gathered around the dinner table while their mom put out their snacks.
“How was school?” asked Uncle Waleed upon entering the kitchen, the children noted his cheerful chatter, but it was forced, even the children could see it.
Laila decided that as the eldest it was her job to inform him of the goings on in school.