by Snoe, Eboni
Everyone had noticed how sedate Felicia was since leaving the circus, even Kareem.
“Songs too sad. Let’s go to games tents. Play. Have fun,” Kareem whined as he tugged at Felicia’s hand.
It wasn’t long before they approached a booth where rings were being tossed at wooden pegs. Kareem waited his turn in line, holding his twenty piasters given to him by Na’im, tightly in his hand.
“I’d like to try my hand at this,” George piped up.
‘ ‘I bet I can beat you,” Fatimah chided. ‘ ‘I’m the best ring tosser in Karib. Am I not, Na’im? At least I was when we were younger.”
‘ ‘She’s right, George. I think you have a real adversary in Fatimah when it comes to this.”
“Me too,” Kareem’s injured voice broke in.
“Both of you are on. I’m going to show you how the people in my hometown do it. The set up isn’t exactly the same, but it’s the same principle.”
Kareem was the first to try his hand, emitting joyful squeals when he got one, and low grumbles of displeasure when he missed several in a row. Everyone had gotten caught up in the excitement. Except Felicia.
The flap to the booth next door lightly brushed the back of Felicia’s head as it was opened by someone inside. A young woman, bowing her thanks with a look of apparent satisfaction, walked past them as she exited the small tent.
Felicia had thought the booth was closed because both flaps were down and there was no sound coming from its direction. Now she could see two tiny lit candles on a small table inside.
Walking forward to get a better look, she met face-to- face with a man who looked about fifty years old. He didn’t wear the traditional keffiyeh, but a large turban with a shiny stone in its center.
‘ ‘Oh, you scared me,” Felicia gasped, placing her hand over her chest.
‘ ‘I am sorry,” the man spoke with a resonant voice, but otherwise impeccable English.
‘ ‘I am Tahlil (Tah-leel). Most people call me a fortune teller. I prefer to be known as a visionary. Would you care to have me look into your life, to help you prepare for the things yet to unfold?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not. Why be afraid of the future? The present is a reflection of the past, and the future a reflection of the present. It is now that you have the most power over your future. Would it not be better to know what you have already shaped, so if it is not to your liking you can remold it?”
“I think r d be more prone to let you do it if you weren’t so serious,” Felicia attempted to lighten the moment.
“But life is serious, little one. Everything that we do is recorded on our life’s record. This does not mean one should not live then’ life happily. Happiness and seriousness are not opposites. They can complement one another.”
Felicia regarded this gentle man, who was so full of wisdom. Once she’d thought about having her future told when she was in California. But she had changed her mind when she realized there were literally hundreds of people claiming to have the ability. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe there was something to it. Actually, she believed in the power of the mind; that it is our conditioning and limited beliefs that hinder it. But here in Egypt, where the greatest of intellectuals were still seeking to understand the mysteries of the ancient civilization’s abilities, she felt it would be different.
Felicia looked back at Na’im, who had begun to listen to her exchange with Tahlil.
“Well, what do you think?”
‘ ‘It’s up to you, aros al bher' ’
“Al right, then. Well, why not.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Na'im looked down at Felicia.
‘ ‘No-o, I don’t think so. You might hear something that I don’t want you to hear.’ ’
With that she and Tahlil entered his booth.
Tahlil’s white turban was the only imposing thing about him. Felicia now saw that the shiny stone gracing its middle was a large amethyst. Other than that, he wore a simple white galabia.
Though his eyes were extremely dark, appearing to be pitch black, they were not hard and piercing. There was nothing significant about his face, but Felicia could see that he lived what he taught. Despite his serious expression, the lines around his mouth echoed a perpetual smile.
Felicia was surprised that there were no tarot cards or crystal balls on the table or in the room. As a matter of fact, it was rather bare. There was one table and two candles, two stools upon which she and Tahlil sat, and another stool sitting alone in the comer.
Tahlil placed one of the candles on the vacant stool. Then he returned to the table, seated himself, adjusted his turban, and asked that Felicia sit forward with both arms outstretched toward him. He then pushed the other candle to Felicia’s far right.
“N0W...I want you to concentrate on the flame of this candle and listen to my voice.”
He gave Felicia these instructions as he caught both of her hands in his.
“No, I do not use other aids to help me with my task. I use you, the main source and channel, as the vehicle to help me tell your future. I will tune into the energies in your life force. They will be transmitted to me, and through the gift of my foresight, I will be able to vision your life.”
Felicia tried to relax but it wasn’t easy.
“Don’t worry. You are doing fine. Relax. Become one with the flame. Let its light bum within your mind and your heart. Let it engulf you, blocking out everything but its enlightenment and wisdom. See yourself walking into the flame. You are no longer separate, but one with the light. Now close your eyes, continuing to see you and the flame as one.”
Felicia felt serene and at peace as she waited in silence for Tahlil to speak.
“You have long been an entity known to help others. This you will accomplish again. It will be done through your bringing together people of unlike cultures. It will also be done through your intellect in a field that you have studied in more than this lifetime. This is very clear for me to see.
“Your personal future is vague. It is because you have not determined what you really want. There is love in your life for a man, but you do not feel within your heart he is yours. I see anguish and torment. I feel the heat of destruction. But because you are a powerful being, like coal turns to diamonds under pressure, your life force holds the key to your happiness.”
Felicia’s eyes involuntarily flew open at the ominous words that Tahlil spoke of her future with Na’im. She wanted to withdraw her hands, but she felt unable to.
Tahlil’s pupils seemed to have all but vanished behind his eyelids as he channeled Felicia’s energies, focusing on his third eye crowned by the amethyst.
With Felicia’s break of concentration, Tahlil’s eyelids closed, and when he looked at her again, his eyes were soft with compassion.
“Remember, you are the one who shapes your future, but one must determine what future they want before they can build it. Now go, and may peace go with you.” Felicia nodded numbly. ‘ ‘How much do I owe you?” “As much as you care to give.”
Felicia thought of Aisha. She and Tahlil had a similar feel about them-Aisha accepting no money from the villagers, Tahlil accepting whatever patrons thought to give him. She gave Tahlil five pounds before leaving.
George’s voice was the first thing she heard when she stepped outside of the visionary’s booth, crying out his discontent over being beaten by Fatimah.
“Let’s play just one more game. Just one more.”
“George, this is three times that you say that. I beat you. That’s it,” Fatimah replied, dusting off her hands to add finality to her words.
George began to shake his head in dismay. Kareem was the first to notice Felicia as she emerged from the booth. He ran over to her, the excitement of the entire day apparent on his face.
“You be rich? Fortune teller say you be rich?” he echoed, his body bobbing up and down.
“Not quite.”
“Don’t tell me,” George
kidded. “You’re going to marry a handsome waiter, and live happily ever after over the restaurant in which he works.”
Felicia playfully swiped at George’s head, missing him by inches as he ducked away, pulling Fatimah in front of him.
‘ ‘Well, aren’t you going to tell us what he said?’ ’ Na'im queried.
‘ ‘I don’t think I will. Some things a woman has to keep to herself.”
“Aw-w, spoil sport,” George whined. “It couldn’t have been all that great, anyway.”
“Maybe so. Maybe not. You’re just mad because Fatimah beat the pants off you at that game. Don’t try to put your anxiety off on me, George Mercer.”
Na’im tilted his handsome head to the side. Raising one smooth eyebrow slightly, he further pressured Felicia. “So you’re really not going to tell us, are you?”
Squinting her eyes while posting her own Mona Lisa smile, Felicia answered him with a firm, “No.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It had been two and a half weeks since the lab started operating. Felicia and the others were deep into Phase II of the project. Initially, they felt the project would require at least four stages of development. But after a lot of discussion and revamping of methods, a three-phase plan was developed.
Felicia was more than pleased that they had managed to reproduce the serum needed in Phase I so quickly. Now tests were being carried out on lab animals to see if gene transfers would be a feasible method to reach their goal.
Having always been an animal lover, it still bothered Felicia when experiments resulted in the death of some of the smaller rodents. Kareem hadn’t helped with this sentimental problem one bit. He had named just about every single lab animal in the place.
Felicia could hear how his English had improved tremendously over such a short period of time. And since he seemed to enjoy the lab so much, she put him to work. He was responsible for feeding the animals and keeping their cages clean, but only the ones who were not being used in testing.
A couple of times, Felicia let him help her when weighing animals that had been injected with various levels of a saline solution. These tests were being conducted to see how salt could be beneficial, and controlled in helping to store fluids.
Kareem’s small face was serious as he placed the little animals on the scale, making sure they remained as still as possible during the process. Felicia could see why Na’im had grown so attached to the boy, aside from what she knew about his mother.
Her contact with Na’im had become limited to their nights together. She carried the impact of those nights with her throughout the day. Rivulets of pleasure would pulsate through her, as her mind conjured up images of the night before.
Both of them seemed to have called a truce, neither one bringing up the future, but only living for the present and the passion-filled nights they shared together. Their lovemaking was so consuming, all that could be thought about was the rhythm of their insatiable bodies. They were constantly reaching for one another, feeling, touching, even in the midst of sleep.
Felicia no longer went to her bedroom at night. Since the night of the circus, she’d slept with Na’im in his bed. She would wake up with this satisfied feeling in the pit of her stomach, but with the slightest movement from Na’im’s hard body, her desire for him would make itself known. He seemed to know this instinctively, and would come to her prepared to fill all of her needs.
Their lovemaking in the morning light was a revealing thing. There was no way for anything to be hidden with the bright sunlight finding its way through slits in the curtains and along the windows’ sides.
Na’im took full advantage of this. His eyes seemed to consume her as he took her, watching their bodies join together, and once done, he held her eyes with his as he brought them both to ecstasy.
After their morning sessions, Na’im would play with Felicia’s braids, which hung in wild, hanging locks of curls. She, in turn, would pull his shoulder-length hair back from his face and up on his head, telling him what a handsome woman he would make. This always resulted in his reminding her that he knew she was glad that he wasn’t a woman, accompanied by an onslaught of tickling.
Laughter would ring out in the early morning hours in the west wing. Felicia laughed because almost every part of her body was a tickle zone, and Na’im because it amused him to see her laugh with such abandon.
Rarely was Na’im on the estate for dinner. Many times Felicia and the others had their dinner in the lab or outside near the building, hashing over the day’s activities.
Word spread quickly that Fatimah would be opening up a school for the workers’ children. Many of the mothers offered to make things for the small classroom, housed in the building next to the science lab.
It took a couple of days for crude, but usable tables to be fashioned out of pieces of wood, and for all the finishing touches to be added; but with so many pitching in, class was scheduled to start the next day.
Fatimah’s interest in the school appeared to have added life to her. She was always bustling around in the classroom. This day she seemed especially excited.
More than once she’d burst in on Felicia, frantic that she’d forgotten this or that. Felicia took the time to calm her, and assure her it had already been taken care of.
“Fatimah, what you need to do is calm down. Now
you’ve been over that list I don’t know how many times, and if you ask me, ‘Did I buy chalk?’ one more time, I’m going to scream.”
“Is she making a pest of herself, Felicia?” George entered the lab, smoothing his blond hair back from his face.
‘ ‘She certainly is. And I wish someone would just take that list from her.”
“Alright then, I’ll do better than that. I’ve finished with everything I’m going to do today. So, Fatimah, if it’s all right with you. I’ll go over the list and double check it to make sure you have done everything, and you have everything you need.”
‘ ‘Oh, Mr. Mercer, you don’t have to do that. I am fine.’ ’ “Oh, no you’re not,” Felicia butted in, in frustration. “Now if the man is going to help you, pu-leeze let him do it”
“And how many times have I told you not to call me Mr. Mercer? You make me feel like an old man.”
With the two of them ganging up on her, Fatimah had no way of getting out of it. So she and George went back next door for a final check over of everything.
Fatimah liked George’s company. She’d thought about him a lot since their travel to A1 Kharijah for supplies, and to see the circus. He’d been so lighthearted and carefree that day, making her feel the same. George seemed to be always full of conversation. She’d caught him looking at her several times in a somewhat whimsical way, but she had pretended not to notice.
Fatimah was fascinated with his ash blonde hair. It was the color of desert sand, and such a contrast to her own. And to Ilyas’. She’d told herself it wasn’t fair to compare him to Ilyas. And why should she compare them? Ilyas
was the man who had expressed his intentions toward her. She had accepted that one day they would be married. This is why she found her preoccupation with George disturbing, and tried to stay her distance from him. But it wasn’t only that. Since then, whenever she saw George, her pulse seemed to race, and she felt all tingly inside. It was for this reason that she had rejected his offer to help.
Now, in looking down at his silky head, she felt the urge to touch it, as he knelt counting tablets and then books in a large crate.
“Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. All right, we can check these off. Now what’s next?”
Fatimah bent to look into the next crate just as George decided to do the same. She nearly knocked him over in the process. George grabbed onto her arm, trying to balance himself. His weight pulled her down toward him, and dark brown eyes stared into sky blue ones.
George rose to his feet, with Fatimah standing not even an arm’s length away.
‘ ‘I am sorry. I did not mean to knock you over,’ ’ sh
e stammered, searching for any place to look except George’s face.
“It’s okay,” George managed in a raspy voice. “Fatimah, I...” Impulsively, he planted a light kiss on her lips.
Fatimah wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him close to her; to rub her face against his; feel the texture of his hair. Instead, she turned away. She heard Ilyas call her name, as George reached for her hand.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Felicia was feeling exhausted from the day’s activities. As she slowly moved around the lab tidying things up, she was startled to hear loud noises coming from the schoolhouse.
Rushing from the lab, she found Fatimah using all of her strength to restrain Ilyas. Speaking to him in rapid Arabic, and louder than Felicia had ever heard her, Fatimah spoke in a commanding tone.
George’s face was flushed with color and his pulse throbbed visibly at the temple.
Ilyas’ voice was ragged with emotion as he addressed Fatimah. She, in return, turned to George and asked him to let them have some time alone.
“George, I am sorry this happened. But it would be better if you left now.’ ’
“I am sick of this guy coming and ordering you around like he owns you. I could just knock his...”
“No George, please. Just go. You don’t understand. Ilyas wants an excuse to kill you. Please go. Now.” George hesitated for a moment, turned and walked briskly past Felicia, who was standing just outside the door. Felicia decided to follow him. She could see that Ilyas’
anger was targeted at George, and that Fatimah was not in any physical danger.
Felicia caught up with George as he reached the lime tree where the men gathered in the late evenings. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. But something is just not right about that relationship between Fatimah and Ilyas.” He turned frustrated blue eyes toward Felicia. “Felicia, I know she likes me. I can feel it when I’m around her. I think she’s something special and should be treated like it I wish I could take her out. Go dancing, to the movies. You know. I just wish things were different.”