A Silent Prayer

by Samreen Ahsan

  In all the silence surrounding me, I hear a strange noise, like people whispering behind the washroom door. The light is off, but the voices are definitely coming from there. I go over and try to listen, but the whispers are so soft I can barely hear them. I open the door hesitantly. It’s pitch dark, though I think I see a shadow moving. I switch on the light and find Rania standing in front of the mirror.

  She’s wearing only a towel, covering her from her breasts to halfway down her thighs. What was she doing in the dark? She doesn’t move when I come in. She stands with wide eyes, frozen like a stone, facing the mirror. Her eyes have the same emptiness that I’ve seen in them during the other strange incidents. There is no sound now, no whispers. She stands mutely, as if time has stopped for her. I step behind her and look into her eyes through the mirror, but it’s like she can’t see me. The air feels like a vacuum, making it hard for me to breathe. It feels too heavy, yet too hollow—the same feeling I had yesterday when I tried to kiss her. Like there’s a hidden presence in the room. The look in her eyes sends a shiver down my spine. Her hair is wet and tangled from her shower. I move it gently from her shoulders to see the marks on her back and shoulders. There are more than I realized.

  I wave my hand in front of her eyes, but she doesn’t blink. It doesn’t even seem like she’s breathing, but if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be standing here. I cup her face in my hands and call her name. She doesn’t respond, and her body is as cold as ice. I try to give her warmth with my touch. As soon as I touch her forehead with my lips, I hear her breathing against me. I look into her eyes, but they are like two deep dark stones. I repeat what I did the other night, touching her lips with my thumb. That time, her body was warm, but when I explored her face through my lips, it started to get cold. This time it’s the opposite. She’s cold, but when I touch her, I hear her breathing and her body begins to warm. She doesn’t move, but her breath says everything. She wants my touch, her body wants my touch, and I want it too.

  I move my lips over her face and inhale her fragrance. Her skin feels soft, like a rose petal, velvety under my lips. The sun is close to me and I want to burn in the light and be engulfed in her warmth. Just as I reach her lips, I hear a loud noise from the bedroom, as if someone turned on the television. I rush out there, thinking that someone is in the room, and will see her half-naked through the door. But in the bedroom, the television is off and there is no one there. All is quiet. I rush back to the washroom, but the door is closed. I open it without knocking, and find Rania dressed in her jeans and navy blue top, brushing her hair. What the fuck?

  “You should knock before coming in,” she says angrily. “We still have some boundaries, Adam. Don’t try to cross them.” She glares at me warningly through her reflection. I stand, dumbfounded. How can she change clothes in less than a minute? My heart starts beating out of control, my mind frantically trying to make sense of what’s going on. I lean against the doorframe, feeling disoriented.

  She turns around and leans toward me. “Are you all right, Adam?” She looks at me tenderly, touching my face. “You look pale.” I look into her eyes. The frigid stare is gone, as is the anger. “Were you running?” She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the doorway, sitting me on the bed. “Your heart is beating very loudly. Even I can hear it.” She picks up a water bottle from the bedside table and hands it to me. When I reach for it, I realize my hands are shaking. She notices my trembling fingers and holds them tightly. “Adam? Talk to me. Do you want me to call the doctor? Why are you shaking?” I look at her dubiously. How could she be standing frozen, wearing nothing but a towel, and seconds later she is completely dressed and turning my mind upside down? I gather all my courage to speak.

  “Where were you?”

  “I was in the washroom. You just saw me there.”

  “I went to pick you up at the summit. You weren’t answering your phone. The security guard told me you left early.”

  “Oh, yeah. I was feeling low and my phone battery ran out. I came back to the room and went to sleep. I woke up half an hour ago and took a shower. I was coming out when you opened the door, without knocking.”

  “When did you dry your hair?” I touch her hair in puzzlement. She doesn’t understand my question at all.

  “Ten minutes ago. Why do you ask?”

  “When I came in…” My voice breaks off. “Your hair was wet and now…” I run my fingers through her hair. “Did you dry your hair before I came?”

  “Why are you asking all these weird questions?” She giggles at me, making me feel stupid. “Yes, I dried it before you came in. But why do you ask? What’s with my hair?”

  I scrutinize her face wordlessly, but her attitude is normal, as if nothing happened at all.

  “When I came into the washroom, you were in a towel, with water dripping from your hair. And you were standing like…”

  “Stop daydreaming, Adam. You think I would stand there and let you look at me half-naked in a towel?”

  “I wasn’t dreaming. I saw your body. You have burn marks on your back and shoulders, don’t you?” When I ask that, her face pales, and she looks down at the floor in shock.

  “How do you know, Adam?” She looks back at me with wide eyes.

  “Because I saw them. I saw them the other night, too, before we had the Satan discussion. But I didn’t say anything; you were too vulnerable.”

  She looks at me fiercely. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Adam.”

  “I came in tonight and found you in the washroom, standing in darkness. I heard whispering and saw shadows, but when I turned on the light, it was only you, wrapped in a towel, staring.” I take a deep breath to collect myself. “You were cold as ice, not even breathing, but when I kissed you on the forehead, I heard you start to breathe. And suddenly, I heard noises coming from in here, but no one was there. When I came back to you, you were all dressed and talking to me.” I close my eyes after that, but I feel her hand touching my forehead, as if she is checking for a fever.

  “Adam, I have no idea what are you talking about. You have been dreaming lately. This morning, you said there is a balcony outside, and now…” She places her palm on my forehead again. “Are you okay?”

  “Do you have scars or not?” My sudden question scares her. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. “If I had not seen your body, how would I know?”

  “How come I don’t remember you noticing my scars? Could it be your sixth sense? A state of premonition?” she asks confusedly.

  “I don’t believe in all that, Rania. It was real. You asked me about the other night, when you didn’t remember how you got from the washroom into bed. That was real, and so is this.”

  She places a hand on my shoulder, hesitantly. “Adam, do you think I need to see the doctor? Is it a memory loss issue?” I stare at the blank wall in front of me.

  “I don’t know who needs to see the doctor, you or me. We have different stories of the same events.” I check my watch and then look at her.

  “Let’s put it out of our minds. Pretend nothing happened. As long as we trust each other, nothing else matters to me.” I get up from the bed and Rania looks at me blankly. “We have a flight to catch, back to Toronto. Time to pack up and go home.”

  During my packing, I get a chance to examine the gifts she gave me the other day. It is exciting, knowing she treasures our moments as much as I do. As we leave the room, she stops at the door and glances back.

  “Have you forgotten something?” I ask her curiously.

  “Nothing. Just looking at it. We created a memory here.” She steps out of the room, leaving me speechless. How can she say complex things so easily?

  I look back at the room, just the way she did. It is a strange feeling, hard to leave.

  * * *

  On our flight to Toronto, I hand her a Tiffany’s box. She looks at me strangely.

  “I bou
ght this yesterday for Mother. Tell me what you think.” Her expression changes instantly, brightening with a smile. She opens the box, looking dazzled.

  “It’s beautiful, Adam. You’ve made a lovely choice.”

  “Do you think she will like it? Or shall we get something else?” I ask her, looking at the hair clip.

  “It’s perfect. This will make her cry with happiness. But you know, Adam? It’s not the gift; your presence is what matters to her. Even if you go empty-handed, she will shower you with love just the same.” Her statements boost my spirits, and I keep her busy with conversation as we travel.

  We reach her apartment building around midnight. I get out of the car with her. Either it’s not as cold as Edmonton, or our bodies acclimated in the last few days.

  “Thank you for a wonderful time, Rania. I will never forget it, ever,” I say, holding both her hands as if I am taking a vow. She smiles shyly and looks down at the concrete.

  “I should thank you for everything—the train, the flight, the hotel, the opera and saving me from Murray. I had no idea he was staying next to the room I was supposed to have.”

  “You never told me if you saw him today.” I almost forgot to ask her. When I’m with her, time passes so quickly, and I don’t realize it until it’s over.

  “Not much! We hardly spoke. He was curious about us. I made him believe…” She pauses and looks down shyly, smiling and blushing. I wait for her to continue. “I made him believe that we are in a relationship. And he kept warning me about you.” We look at each other and then laugh hysterically at the same time. “I wish I could have made a video and showed you how he reacted.”

  “I believe you.”

  We stand here for a while, me holding her hands, wondering who will be the first to say good-bye. Why is it so hard to say it?

  Are we addicted to each other? I am sure about myself, but I can’t work out how she feels about me. She has always been so secretive and reserved. She pulls her hands from mine and looks toward the entrance door.

  “I shall go now.” I stay quiet. Does she want to say something? Does she want me to come with her, to protect her from nightmares?

  Twice at the hotel suite I tried to kiss her, taking advantage of her weakness. I know if I come inside tonight, I will never be able to control the demon inside me.

  “Good night,” she says without looking at me, and turns toward the entrance. I watch her leaving me. Why is it so hard to say good-bye tonight?

  I plan to meet her the next day for dinner, but that seems an eternity from now. She stops and turns around to look at me. I see something new in her eyes; she’s never looked at me like this before. She comes running back to me and hugs me tightly. At her heated embrace, I feel my body crumbling into thousands of pieces.

  What is this girl doing to me?

  She burrows her mouth into my neck and whispers, “Thank you for everything, Adam.” The warmth coming from her lips touches my neck and burns my whole body in a fraction of a second. She pulls away and, without meeting my eyes, turns and disappears behind the tinted glass doors.

  And I crave more of my sun.

  SOMETHING NEW

  ♀

  I wake up around eleven in the morning. I’ve never slept so late in my life. I remember waking from a dream in the middle of the night, but it was not a nightmare. It was the first time in five years I’d slept alone without a nightmare, when Adam was not around. I’d been lost in the dark woods, and Adam had rescued me from the darkness.

  Is it a message from God? Is He sending Adam to protect me?

  I know Adam is not a guy to believe in relationships. He hardly believes in God. But still, I am spellbound and captivated by his presence. I slip out of bed and plug in my phone, which has been switched off since I left the training session after lunch. There are a few unread messages.

  The first one is from Ethan Murray. I roll my eyes in frustration as I read it.

  You have cast a spell on this poor man with your angelic beauty. You left without saying a word. Is that one of the characteristics of an enchantress?

  I delete his cheesy message without even thinking. The second message is from Mike, which brings a smile to my face.

  Hey, girl! Still in Edmonton? Dad told me you would be back on Saturday. Can we dine out together? A movie or bowling? I am off duty on Saturday evening and all yours. Love ya!

  Mike will never stop showering his love on me—his messages are always like this. And I guess I am used to it. There is a message from Adam also, sent around 4 a.m. That was the same time I woke up from my dream.

  Sorry I couldn’t be there for you. Somehow, tonight, I felt if I’d stay with you, I would let my demon win. I was trying to protect you from it.

  He was awake at 4 a.m.? Thinking about me?

  Tons of questions juggle in my mind. I decide it’s better to respond to the message, than create more questions in my brain. I plan to call Mike after breakfast and as for Adam, I think hard what to write.

  Your soul defeated your demon last night. I didn’t have any nightmares. It was your soul, who met mine in the dream. Thank you.

  I put my phone down and head to the washroom. Five minutes later, I hear my phone ringing. I rush out and check the ID to find Adam’s name.

  “Hi, good morning.” His sweet voice comes as soon as I accept the call.

  “Good morning or afternoon, whatever.” I giggle. “How are you?”

  “Never been so good. You dreamt about me, last night?” His voice is heavy from sleep, and I sense he is still in bed. My text must have woken him.

  “Yes. No nightmares, surprisingly.”

  “What did you dream?”

  “I was lost in the dark woods and you came from nowhere and led me out of them.” Adam doesn’t say anything. I hear him breathing.

  “Adam? Are you there?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “I dreamed the same thing, and woke up in the middle of the night and texted you without thinking.”

  We both are silent. I don’t remember who hung up first, but neither of us said anything, not even good-bye.

  After my breakfast, I call Mike to return his message.

  “Somebody has got her memory back?” He sounds excited to hear from me.

  “How are you, Mike?”

  “I am good. On a duty, though,” he says dryly. “We have a lot to talk about, Rania. I was wondering if we could meet. It’s been a while.” He’s right. It has been a while. He was in Calgary for three months, and the day he came back was the day I met Adam for the first time. With Adam around all the time, I never got a chance to talk to my best friend properly. But he is asking about tonight. I know if I don’t go with Adam, then he won’t see his mother.

  “I am sorry, Mike. Tonight is not possible. I am already—”

  “Dating Gibson?” he interrupts me. I remain silent, so he continues. “Do you like him, Rania?”

  His question totally surprises me. I am still quiet, not sure what to say, or am I too afraid to spill the beans? “Shall I take this silence as a ‘yes?’”

  “It’s not what you think, Mike. We are just friends.”

  “So just-a-friend would chase you all the way to Edmonton?” Shit. How does he know? “Just because I stay quiet, doesn’t mean I don’t know anything.” He takes a deep breath. “You remember Kevin? We took photography lessons together?”

  “Yes, I remember. The Russian guy with nerd glasses?”

  “Yes. Apparently, he was at the summit you attended. He was covering the shoot.” Oh, he told Mike. “He saw you hugging a guy passionately coming out of the conference hall…” I listen to him quietly. Hugging passionately? Is it true? “He obviously knew it was Gibson, but then he also told me there was another man, some mature guy, who had eyes on you all the time and f
ollowed you when you were meeting Gibson. Did you complain about that weirdo to Gibson? Kevin told me they had an argument.”

  “The guy is Ethan Murray. He has a very high-profile job, but he’s a sleaze and uses it to hit on girls. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know he’s trying to hit on the wrong girl this time.” We both laugh. I ask, “Does Ben know…”

  “You are my best friend, Rania. As well as I know you, I know my dad too. He is a blabber. I didn’t tell him—I knew he would tell your father.”

  “Thank you, Mike. You are a true friend.”

  “Yes, and I love you too.” His spontaneous remark makes me giggle. “So, he met you in Edmonton? I mean your new Richie rich boyfriend? Or you left from here together?”

  “Stop calling him my boyfriend. We are just friends.” I raise my voice. I hear Mike inhaling and I am sure he is probably rolling his eyes too.

  “Then what should I call him? A stalker? A secret agent? What was he doing there?”

  I take a deep breath. “It’s a long story, Mike. He came to rescue me from Ethan Murray’s plotting.”

  “What does Murray have to do with you?”

  “Not with me, with Adam.”

  “So what about your date tonight with Mr. Richie rich?” He sounds sarcastic.

  “His name is Adam.” I roll my eyes again.

  “I know, but Richie rich suits him more. After all, he knows how to use his money at the right time.” He sounds hurt.

  “It’s not what you think. It is not a date, Mike. He is taking me to his parents’ house.” I skip my side of the story. How can I tell Mike that we were alone in a business class coach of Via Rail, all by ourselves for two days? He certainly knows how to use his damn money.

  “What? Are you serious? You’re going to meet his family?” It is his turn to raise his voice to me, but I remain quiet. “Isn’t it too soon, Rania? You hardly know him.”

  “It’s hard to explain, Mike. Can we talk about it some other time?”