Relentless Hope (Resilient Hearts)

by Cassidy, Ashley

  He finally lifts up his head and looks me straight in the eye. “I was in your shoes once and someone saved me from making this mistake. It is only fair that at the end of my life, I do the same for someone else.”

  His admission leaves me speechless. I am stunned that this strange man is telling me about something so personal and painful in his life. I open my mouth to say something, but I can’t think of anything to say to that. Before I have a chance to form a coherent sentence, he stops me. “I have never told anyone this story, and I really hope that you will keep it to yourself, but even if you don’t, at this point in my life, it doesn’t matter anymore. And I think you really need to hear it.”

  He looks towards the ocean and takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was young, not as young as you, but still very young. I had just graduated from college a couple of years before, and I had a good job with a reputable company. My wife had just had a baby and she was staying home to take care of him. My job was great and it had good potential, but I had always dreamed of having my own business. I came up with an idea for a business that I thought was great, but I didn’t have a lot of money to start it…so I tried to get investment money from friends and family. I’ve always been a good sales person, so I was able to sell the idea pretty well and before I knew it, I’d received a lot of money from people I knew, including my father. I put all of the money we had saved up for ourselves and everything we had received from other people into the business…and well, the idea turned out to be terrible. My lack of experience in the business world didn’t help either. Within a year, I lost all of the money, and nobody else was willing to give us any. All of the friends and family to whom I had promised hefty returns became my mortal enemies overnight. I tried to get my old job back, but they didn’t want me anymore. My wife and I became homeless and had to stay at an old college friend’s house. My wife could not take the humiliation and soon after, she left to go stay at her parents’ house. I started desperately looking for a job, but any door I turned to would shut in my face. In a span of a few months, I lost my wife, my baby, my friends and relatives, all my money, and even my career. I was beyond devastated. So after a couple of months of struggling to find my footing and failing repeatedly, I had had enough.”

  He pauses to take a shaky breath, and I can tell by the look in his eyes what he is about to tell me is deeply personal and highly emotional.

  “We lived in San Francisco at the time, so I went to the Golden Gate Bridge, determined to end my nightmare. As I stood there ready to take the plunge, an older guy suddenly ran up to me and pulled me back from the edge. He talked to me for a long time and convinced me not to give up. He told me things would fall into place, if I changed my expectations and started from scratch. For some reason, what he told me resonated with me. I went back and got a job as a cashier at a gas station and a second job as a waiter. I worked my tail off for the first few months. Did nothing but work seven days a week, and I saved all of the money. Within a few months, I had enough money to start a very small business. This time, I didn’t borrow money from anyone. I went in with my own money, and I was a lot more careful and methodical about the whole process…and it worked. It didn’t take long for me to pay off all of the money I had borrowed before and be able to get a house to bring my wife and son back… And the rest is history. All I can tell you is that I’ve had an amazing life. And I wouldn’t have had any of it, if it wasn’t for that gentleman on the bridge that day who told me to not give up.”

  His story resonates deeply with me, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t hold back the tears that escape my eyes. At this moment, I feel a strange connection to this old man and even though I have always been very reserved, I feel a strong urge to share at least some of my story with him. I take a deep breath and try to clear my throat. When I finally feel composed enough to speak, I look into the distant waters of the ocean and start.

  “My parents are Middle Eastern and they are very strict. They have strict rules about what I am and am not allowed to do, and I have always lived kind of a sheltered life. I have also always tried to follow their rules, but a few weeks ago, my brother caught me in a compromising situation. The whole thing is actually a really big misunderstanding because what he saw was not really…hmmm… It was,” I struggle with how to explain it. “It was not my idea,” I finally say. “But because I had kept some things secrets from my family, and the way the whole thing played out, they don’t believe me. No one believes me, not even my closest friends,” I barely manage to say, fighting against the heavy lump in my throat, as I remember how all my friends and family turned against me. I stare ahead at the deep blue waters and try to steady my quivering voice, before I continue.

  “News of what happened spread rapidly among our friends and family. My parents and my brothers feel like our family name and reputation has been ruined, and they blame me for all of it. Things haven’t been easy at home since then. They took my car away, and didn’t let me leave the house for the past three weeks. Their excuse is that they can’t trust me. They say because I’ve betrayed the family so bad, they don’t know what I might do if I leave the house.” I pause to take a shaky breath, before I can continue. “I missed a lot of my classes and some exams, and since I really didn’t want to ruin my four point zero GPA, I had to drop my classes. Now I don’t even know if I will have my scholarship for the next semester. And every one of my friends has either abandoned me or turned against me.”

  I have to pause to compose myself again before I completely fall apart in front of this stranger. I try to swallow against the heavy lump in my throat and desperately attempt to hold myself together to continue, but my efforts are in vain. I cannot bring myself to tell this man what my family has planned for me. My tongue refuses to repeat the horrific words I heard from my mom this morning. Just thinking about that makes me sick to my stomach again. I force myself to take a few deep breaths before looking back at him. When I finally meet his gaze, I see compassion and understanding in them.

  “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry, you have to go through that. Your family is making a huge mistake…and at the end, it will be their loss. I am a good judge of character. I can tell you are an amazing young woman and you have a bright future ahead of you. You need to move out of your parents’ house and stop relying on your family. I know that may sound extremely scary to you right now, especially if you’ve never been on your own, but you seem to be very smart. You’ll figure things out. This whole deal will end up being to your benefit, as you will learn to stand on your own feet and take control of your life.”

  He reaches his hand into his pocket and pulls out a wallet. At first, I think he is going to give me money and I am about to refuse, but then I see him pull out a card and realize it is a business card.

  As he hands me the card, he says, “I know I look old and useless, but I used to be a successful businessman, and I still know a lot of people. If you need help trying to make it on your own, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

  I take the card from him and as I do, my eyes glance over my watch. As soon as I notice the time, I practically jump off the bench. I have to be home in less than two hours before my dad gets home, otherwise both my mom and I will be in serious trouble. To make matters worse, I am half way across the city, don’t have a car and don’t even really know where I am. My heart starts pounding rapidly in my chest, and I quickly shove the card in my purse, and thank the old man before rushing away.

  I walk a few blocks to the bus stop where I got off the bus earlier today. As I am making my way back, I take in the area and notice the sprawling mansions in the neighborhood. This is definitely an exclusive and expensive area of the city reserved for the super-rich. I was so deeply lost in my thoughts when I got here a few hours ago that I didn’t even notice any of this. In fact, I was so distraught that I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going.

  After my mom told me of my dad’s plans for me, I felt like the walls of my room were suffocati
ng me. I had to get out of the house. I haven’t been allowed to leave the house for the past three weeks, and my mom has been acting as the perfect prison guard for the sentence imposed on me by my dad and my brothers. But she felt so bad after delivering the news, that she let me walk out of the house. And walk I did.

  After I left, I walked aimlessly without paying attention to where I was going until I came to a bus stop where I could sit and rest my legs. When a bus stopped at the station a few minutes later, the prospect of getting away from the neighborhood was too tempting to refuse. I got on that bus and pretended like I was getting away from it all. I closed my eyes and let my mind go blank. It wasn’t until the bus driver said last stop that I realized I’d been in the bus for a long time and I was in a completely unfamiliar area.

  As I look at my watch again now, I realize I left our house six hours ago. I’m sure my mom is sick with worry by now. She has probably called me a million times, but my phone has been off for the past few days. After a while of repeatedly trying to convince my friends of the truth of what had happened that day and in return only receiving hateful text messages, I finally gave up. I couldn’t handle receiving any more of those messages so I just turned my phone off a few days ago. Now I suddenly realize I didn’t even think about grabbing my phone when I left the house this morning.

  Oh, my God! If I don’t have my phone, I’ll be in serious trouble. I start frantically looking through my purse and when I finally feel the outline of the phone under my fingers in my jam-packed purse, I release a tense breath I was holding. At least, I have my phone with me. Now, all I have to do is hope that it’s charged and I can use the GPS to find out where I am.

  Thankfully, the phone turns on, and I quickly figure out that I am in Palos Verdes. Great, according to my map, it takes about an hour to get from here to my house in the Valley area. That is cutting it too close. I don’t have time to try to figure out the bus schedule and take the bus. Panic starts to take over my body. If I am not home before my dad gets there, he will suspect my mom told me of his plans, and any chance of me trying to get away might be lost. I have to get home in time.

  In my frantic state, I rapidly think through all of my options. I could ask my mom to come and pick me up, but that would probably take close to two hours and is too risky. I could try to figure out the bus schedule, but that would take even longer and I cannot rely on a bus service right now. I could call a cab, but I am not sure I have enough money to cover the cost…and then it suddenly hits me, I could call Mia.

  Mia is the only one of my friends who was not associated with Zoha or Imran in anyway and who actually believed me when I told her what had happened. She is the only person who has shown me some compassion in the last few weeks. When she found out about my situation, she told me to call her if I needed anything, and right now, I really need a ride.

  I grab my phone quickly and dial Mia’s number, praying silently that she will pick up. She answers on the second ring.

  “Hey, Aleah. How are you? I called and left you a few voicemails, but your phone is always off. I’ve been worried about you. Are you okay?”

  I pause for a few seconds trying to figure out how to answer her. I am far from being okay, but that is not my biggest worry at the moment. Right now, I need a ride and I need it fast. So I decide to cut to the chase.

  “No, I’m not really okay, but I don’t have time to talk about that right now. I am sort of in a bind at the moment, and I could really use your help, if you are free.”

  “Sure. I’m sitting at a coffee shop studying, nothing time sensitive. What do you need?”

  “I ended up across the city and lost track of time. Now, I have to get back home in less than two hours. Otherwise, I’ll be in big trouble with my dad and my brothers. Will you be able to pick me up and drop me off at home?”

  “How did you end up across the city without a car?”

  “If you can pick me, I’ll explain everything to you in the car. Right now, I just don’t time have to explain. I desperately need to get back home as soon as possible.”

  “Sure, I can give you a ride. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Palos Verdes. I’ll text you the intersection.”

  “Okay. I should be able to get there in about half an hour. I’ll call you when I am close.”

  “Thank you. You’re a life saver.”

  About half an hour later, Mia pulls up to the curb. I have never felt so relieved at seeing a car. I quickly jump in and give her a hug from across the console.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem. That’s what friends are for. I told you to call me if you needed anything.”

  She is right. That’s what real friends are for. True friends don’t judge you and they don’t lash out against you when they think you have made a mistake. They believe your words over a guy with a proven reputation for being a scumbag. Most importantly, they don’t abandon you and turn their backs on you, when you need them the most.

  Out of all the friends I had, Mia seems to be the only true friend. Funny, how I never even considered her a close friend before any of this happened. She was in many of my classes and we simply became good study partners. I never felt close enough to her to share anything I would consider a secret with her. But when things got rough, and all of my other so called close friends started harassing me instead of being supportive, she proved herself to be my only true friend.

  Mia’s soft voice brings me back to the present. “So, tell me what happened? How did you get here?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have a long drive.”

  I contemplate how much I should tell her, and decide not to hold back. I’m in desperate need of a good friend and a helping hand, and Mia has proven herself to be both in the past few weeks. She deserves to hear the whole story.

  “You know how my dad and my brothers freaked out after the incident and went all crazy over the fact that I supposedly ruined the family name and dishonored everyone in it?” I pause and take a long shattered breath, slowly forcing my lips to form the next words. “Well, apparently my dad thinks the only way to clear the family name is to marry me off quickly and to a place as far away from here as possible.”

  “WHAT? What do you mean?”

  I swallow against the huge lump in my throat and try to fight the stream of tears that will inevitably start to flow as soon as I start to tell the rest of this story.

  “This morning, my mom came to my room. As soon as she walked in, the look in her eyes told me something was seriously wrong. She told me my dad had a discussion with her last night during which he blurted out he was planning to take me to Pakistan for a two weeks trip to try to reacquaint me with our culture. Teach me what a woman’s place is and all that.”

  “Oh, that’s such bullshit.”

  “That’s not even the worst of it. Wait until you hear the rest. My dad told her, he’s going to buy us tickets to leave in about a week. After he told her that, my mom became suspicious since it’s highly unlikely my dad would take two full weeks off from work in such short notice and do all of that just take me there to teach me how I am supposed to act, especially since they’ve been telling me how to act since I was a little girl. So my mom tried to listen in on my dad’s telephone conversation when he made a phone call from his office later at night. What she heard Mia...what he plans to do is…it’s so horrific, I can’t even repeat it… I can’t believe my dad would do something like that to me.” My hands start trembling and my voice catches on the last words. My throat closes. Despair overtakes my whole body as I try to force myself to repeat what my mom told me.

  Mia turns her head towards me before asking in an alarming voice. “What is it Aleah? What is he going to do?”

  “He…he is…he’s planning to take me there on false pretenses, telling me we’re going there to learn the culture. But once we get there…he wants to marry me off to an older relative of his who lives in a village. They think if I am far away fr
om the city, it would be less likely I can escape and somehow find my way back home.” Tears start streaming down my face, as I hopelessly try to stifle the sobs I have been trying to contain all day.

  “I would be they guy’s third wife, Mia,” I manage to say in between my sobs.

  Her mouth hangs open as she tries to digest this information. “Oh, my God, Aleah! Are you serious? They can’t do that to you, can they?”

  “I don’t know, Mia. If I stay home, I think they will find a way to force me to go and if I get to that country, I am pretty sure, they can do whatever they want to me.”

  “You have to leave then. As soon as you can. Get as far away from that house as you can, right now.”

  “I know. But I am so scared. Plus, I really have nowhere to go. Except for you, all my friends and family have turned against me, and I have no money…not even any credit cards. My dad took my debit card away the other day, after he took my car keys. I don’t know what to do,” my voice hitches on a sob again.

  “I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together. You can stay with me for as long as you need to and we’ll find you a job.”

  Her generous offer sows a seed of hope in my optimistic heart, making me think that maybe, just maybe I’ll find a way to survive.

  A soft knock on the door wakes me up. I open my eyes slowly, but I’m so edgy that as soon as I realize someone is knocking on the door, my body goes into panic mode, almost knocking down the lamp on my nightstand. Thankfully, it’s only my mom at the door. She peeks her head in and when I see that it’s her, I relax a little.

  “Good morning,” she says, as she walks in.

  I release the breath I was holding and try to return her greeting, but before I have a chance to say anything, she comes in to sit on the edge of my bed. Pulling me into a tight hug, she starts to cry.