by Amra Pajalic
‘You didn’t know, did you?’ Mum implored.
‘Of course not—’ Safet got out of the car and held Mum.
‘Sevda said your wife wrote to you,’ Auntie Zehra interrupted. ‘That the embassy gave her your address.’
‘I never received any letters from her,’ Safet retorted, his head muffled in Mum’s hair.
‘Sevda says she wrote five times and the letters weren’t returned.’
Mum lifted her head from Safet’s chest. ‘He didn’t get the letters,’ she barked.
‘Why don’t we go inside?’ Safet stroked Mum’s back as he walked her to his flat. Safeta went ahead and unlocked the door.
‘It’s not appropriate for my sister to be alone with a married man,’ Auntie Zehra said.
Safet stood still. ‘I’ll, of course, be legally rectifying that.’
‘And your daughters?’ Auntie asked.
He turned. ‘I’ll always be their father.’
‘Being a parent is more than just a word. I’m sure Bahra would agree.’
Mum rushed at Auntie Zehra. ‘He’s not Esad. He’s nothing like Esad.’
I blinked back tears at my Dad’s name. This was getting ugly.
‘While I will meet my obligations to my daughters, my life is with Bahra.’ Safet reached Mum’s side and put his arm around her.
‘By obligations you mean you’ll give money so your wife can support your daughters.’
‘Of course.’ Safet’s hold tightened on Mum.
‘That will be difficult to do without a job.’
‘Stop it! We’ve already worked this out with Dido!’ Mum shouted.
‘And Bahra’s pension will only stretch so far.’
Mum’s arm arced back and she whacked Auntie Zehra across the face. Auntie nearly toppled to the ground. I ran to her side.
‘You’ve already chased away one man I loved, I won’t let you do it again!’ Mum yelled.
Auntie looked at Mum, shocked. When Mum was healthy she wasn’t capable of hitting anyone.
While Auntie Zehra was struck dumb, I pointed at Safet. ‘He’s lying. He knew his wife was alive.’
‘Shut up.’ Mum headed for me. ‘I’m trying to find you a father, but you’re an ungrateful little bitch.’ For the first time in ages, I was scared of my mother. Of the emptiness in her eyes, as if she were possessed.
‘Come on, let’s go.’ Safet pulled Mum towards the flat.
‘I curse the day I fell pregnant with you!’ Mum shrieked, her voice as disembodied as the kid in The Exorcist.
Her venom took my breath away. My legs were trembling; I was certain I’d fall down, or be struck down by this witch my mother had become.
‘She doesn’t mean it.’ Auntie hugged me. ‘Remember, she’s sick.’
I grasped her arm as we walked back to her car.
Safet’s sister turned around to us. ‘My brother isn’t a bad man,’ she said. ‘They were getting divorced anyway.’
It took Auntie three tries to get the key in the ignition. ‘What was Mum talking about when she said you chased off the man she loved?’ I asked as we drove home.
Auntie’s lips tightened. ‘When we were young I told Babo about her seeing her boyfriend, Darko. Dido managed to get him fired from his job, and she never saw him again.’ She kept looking straight ahead.
‘But Auntie,’ I cried, ‘how could you do that?’
‘I have no regrets at all, Sabiha. Your mother married a Bosnian, and you wouldn’t be here otherwise.’ She said crisply, if not defiantly.
The love letters I’d found had been full of passion and now I understood why there was so much tension between Mum and Auntie Zehra, and why Mum sometimes acted like she hated her sister. How could she not feel resentful, even after all this time? ‘Mum didn’t love my Dad, did she?’ I murmured.
‘Of course she did,’ Auntie’s response was immediate.
‘She married my Dad one month after Darko left.’ I knew in my heart now that Mum hadn’t married my Dad simply on the rebound, but because she wanted to punish her family.
Auntie pulled up in our driveway. ‘She was angry with all of us after Darko. Your father came from Australia looking for a bride and she saw it as her chance to run away.’ I stared through the windscreen. Auntie put her hands on my face and turned my head to her. ‘But she learnt to love him.’
I bit my lip. ‘She never wanted me.’
Auntie slapped my arm. ‘Of course she did. Every mother loves her child. They’re a gift from God.’
I pretended I believed her clichés, but I knew differently. Every time Mum looked at me she saw the life she’d missed out on with the one man she truly loved.
I pretended to be sick the next day and didn’t go to school, not that anyone noticed. Mum was still at Safet’s and Dido hadn’t moved from the sofa since Edin’s funeral the day before. While I sat stunned in front of the TV, there was a knock at the front door. Two police officers stood on our threshold. Fucking Shelley.
to err is human, to forgive divine
‘Does Bahra Omerovic live here?’ asked the taller police officer, his name tag identifying him as Constable Twist.
I shook my head. ‘She’s not home.’
‘Is there an adult we can speak to?’
‘Not really. My grandfather doesn’t speak English.’ I wiped my sweaty palms on my jumper.
‘May we come in?’ Constable Twist persisted.
I held the door open for them and shouted for Dido. When they entered the living room he sat up on the sofa, confused. ‘They want to speak to you,’ I told him.
He pushed the blanket off and smoothed his hair. ‘What do they want?’
The officers looked concerned. ‘Call an interpreter please, Constable,’ Constable Twist said to his partner.
The other officer turned away as he used his mobile.
‘Why aren’t you at school?’ Constable Twist asked.
‘I’m sick.’
‘Call the Department of Human Services, too,’ he said, turning back to his sidekick, who nodded while he talked.
‘What’s going on?’ Dido asked.
‘They’re calling an interpreter.’ I pulled him into the kitchen and tried to tell him about the Department of Human Services, but I didn’t have the words to explain what a caseworker does and how much power they wielded. It was the DHS that had put me in a foster home when I was little and Mum had got sick. It was only when Frankie came into our lives that I’d been safe from their clutches. If Shelley pressed charges they’d take me away again.
‘Call Zehra and tell her to bring Merisa,’ Dido said.
‘I’ll call my Aunt,’ I told the officers.
‘Does she speak English?’ Constable Twist asked.
I shook my head. ‘My cousin does.’
Auntie Zehra came straight away. Merisa was at work, but Auntie said she’d called her to come home. The police officers retreated to their car to wait.
‘What are they doing here?’ Auntie Zehra watched through the window.
‘They’re here because of me.’ I burst into tears and told them about bashing Shelley.
‘Oh Sabiha.’ Auntie Zehra held me against her.
‘They’re bringing the government,’ Dido said hoarsely. ‘They can take her away.’
‘Allah protect us…’ Auntie sat on the sofa and pulled me with her so that I was between Dido and her. She plucked a tissue and wiped her eyes. ‘We won’t let them take you away.’
The police officers returned an hour later with the interpreter in tow. We stood. I held onto Auntie and Dido’s hands.
‘Bahra Omerovic was taken into custody this morning at ten a.m,’ Constable Twist declared. ‘She was discovered in Sunshine Shopping Centre, disorientated and belligerent. She’s been admitted to Sunshine Hospital psychiatric ward.’
My legs gave way and I dropped onto the couch while the interpreter translated for Dido and Auntie. Auntie gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Dido sobbed.
There was another knock on the door and Constable Twist led in a woman. ‘This is Ms Janet Woods, a caseworker with the Department of Human Services.’
I went cold. I knew what was going to happen now. It was a story that had been played out before. They were taking me away. Auntie and Dido argued that they were my family and could take care of me, while the caseworker explained DHS procedures. I had to be taken into care while they evaluated whether my Auntie and Dido were suitable carers.
Ms Woods asked me to pack my things. I tried to leave, but Auntie wouldn’t let me go. Constable Twist held her back while the other police officer led me to my bedroom. My mind was frozen. I opened my drawers, but I couldn’t get anything out. Ms Woods came in and sifted through the drawers, stuffing the backpack with clothes. She took me by the arm and led me out the front door.
Merisa pulled up in the driveway. ‘Sabiha, what’s going on?’ she asked.
I couldn’t speak. Behind me, I heard Dido’s sobs and Auntie comforting him.
I kept walking. I’d learnt never to look back because that last glimpse would haunt me. They put me in the police car and Ms Woods sat in the back seat next to me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the seat. I don’t know how much time passed before the car stopped. Ms Woods helped me out of the car and into a house. A woman bustled to open the door and started chirping at me.
‘Sabiha will be staying here for a few weeks,’ Ms Woods spoke for me. ‘Martha will be taking care of you.’ For a second she bent towards me, then walked back to her car.
Martha closed the door behind me. ‘What would you like to do now?’
I stared at her blankly.
‘Maybe a lie down.’
I followed her into a bedroom.
‘This will be your room while you’re staying here.’ Martha took the backpack from me and put my clothes away. ‘I’ll leave you until dinner.’
I lay on the bed and closed my eyes.
The next day Ms Woods came back to fill me in on my future. As the foster home was somewhere deep in the eastern suburbs, and the court date when my care would be decided was set for two weeks time, I chose not to go to school. Ms Woods told me that I would definitely be placed with a family member so I could return to my old school.
She asked if I wanted to visit Mum. I shook my head. I remembered the hatred in my mother’s eyes at our last confrontation, the venom in her voice when she told me that she’d never wanted me, and I felt tired again. Even though I’d slept for twelve hours I craved sleep and the oblivion it offered. After Ms Woods left I returned to bed. My days passed in a blur of sleep and daytime television.
She returned the following week and took me to visit my family. When the car pulled up in Auntie Zehra’s driveway I couldn’t get out. Auntie came to the door and led me into the house like an invalid. She sat me down at the dining table and brought out food. I felt as if I was drifting in and out of consciousness. She and Dido talked to me, but it was like their words were coming from inside a tunnel. When I went to respond to their questions, I couldn’t make my mouth move.
They left me alone and went to the living room to talk, Merisa acting as translator for Ms Woods. Snatches of their conversation drifted to the dining room.
‘Sabiha’s depressed,’ Ms Woods said.
‘She needs to be with her family,’ Merisa translated for Auntie Zehra.
‘Bahra is asking about her. When can Sabiha visit her?’ Dido asked.
‘Whenever her mother is mentioned she retreats even more,’ Ms Woods said.
‘Sabiha, Sabiha, Sabiha,’ someone kept calling.
I lifted my head from the plate of pita I’d been staring at, its spiral shape mesmerising me.
Adnan sat on the chair next to me. ‘You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?’ he asked, his eyes on the living room door. ‘You’d just hurt everyone.’
I stood to leave.
He stood too and gripped my arm. ‘Not that anyone would believe you.’ He watched me like I was a specimen at a museum. ‘You’ve gone crazy like your mother.’
My arm flesh was pinched between his fingers. As the pain pierced through the fog in my head, a flicker of anger lit inside me. I met his eyes and while he stared at my face, I lifted my knee and drove it into his groin. The soft flesh squashed under my kneecap and I kept pushing his balls into his torso. Those fight lessons he’d given me had finally paid off. He leaped into the air, letting out a whimper.
‘Is everything all right?’ Auntie asked from the doorway.
I sat and took a bite of pita.
‘I was checking on my cuz,’ Adnan said. Auntie nodded and returned to the living room. Adnan limped away, sweat covering his face as he fought not to make a sound.
Later, I sat on the sofa surrounded by Auntie, Dido and Ms Woods, each of them looking at me with wary concern.
‘We want to talk about your future while your Mum is in hospital,’ Ms Woods said. ‘Your Auntie wants you to live with her.’
I shook my head violently. Auntie looked like she was about to cry. I couldn’t tell her about Adnan. ‘I want to go home,’ I forced out, my voice like a rusty pipe.
‘You can’t go home,’ Ms Woods said. ‘There’s no one to look after you.’
I looked at Dido.
‘Your grandfather is old and needs help himself.’
Ms Woods kept asking me questions. She mentioned Frankie. I lay on the sofa and closed my eyes. Someone covered me with a blanket and patted my hair. I smelt tobacco and knew it was Dido’s hand gently caressing me. I heard them talking as I drifted in and out of sleep.
‘I can stay with Dido and Sabiha,’ Auntie said. ‘My children are adults and Merisa can take care of the house while I live in Bahra’s home.’ It was a solution of sorts…even in my befuddled state, I knew I could endure it. I grunted my acknowledgment from the sofa.
Two weeks after I’d been taken away, Ms Woods drove me back home. Dido and Auntie Zehra waited for me on the porch. ‘Welcome back,’ Auntie moaned as she embraced me. Dido held me, his raspy beard scratching my face. He’d aged ten years in two weeks.
I walked through the house, haunted by Mum’s presence. Auntie had moved into her bedroom. She’d packed up some of Mum’s clothes so she could use one side of her wardrobe.
‘She’s doing better,’ Auntie said when she found me. ‘She’s been asking for you.’
I touched Mum’s hairbrush.
‘She misses you.’
I snatched my hand back from the hairbrush and went to my bedroom. Auntie had cleaned it and changed the bedding, but my things were still in their place.
Auntie drove me to school the next day. When she pulled up I held onto the doorhandle, paralysed. All the things I’d avoided thinking about while trying to sleep myself into a coma were waiting for me on the school grounds. ‘There’s Dina!’ Auntie waved at her.
Dina opened the car door and smiled at me. ‘It’s okay. I’ll look after her,’ she told Auntie.
‘I’ll be here to pick you up after school.’ Auntie drove off, beeping her horn.
We sat on the picnic table and Dina chatted. I kept looking around, not wanting to be ambushed by Brian or Jesse. I didn’t know what I’d do when I saw them, but running seemed like a good option.
‘How’s your mum?’ Dina asked.
I shrugged. I hadn’t seen my mother since the confrontation at Safet’s. While I knew I couldn’t hold her responsible for what she’d said then, I also knew that when she was sick she said all the things she would normally keep inside. I couldn’t help but believe there was some truth in her words and I didn’t know if I could forgive her.
‘I tried texting you,’ Dina said.
‘I know,’ I replied. I’d received messages from her and Jesse while I was in the foster home. ‘Sorry, I didn’t want to talk to anyone.’
‘That’s okay. I can catch you up on all the gossip.’ Without waiting for my response, Dina launched into it, instantly more animated. �
��Well…Gemma moved out with Rob. She got an apprenticeship to be a pastry chef and isn’t coming to school any more.’
‘Have you and Gemma talked?’ I asked, now curious.
Dina shook her head. ‘Not since our fight on the oval. And I think Brian and Adnan had a fight because they’re not hanging out any more. Do you know anything about that?’
I shook my head. Adnan was a cold-hearted bastard. He’d ditched Brian so no one would find out about them. As much as I hated Adnan I couldn’t hurt my aunt and destroy our family by revealing Adnan’s secret.
‘Adnan has a girlfriend. Her name is Tanya and she’s Greek,’ Dina continued.
I almost smiled as I thought about what Auntie would do if she found out her precious son was dating a vlah. It was something to keep in mind for the future.
Dina went silent.
‘Tony?’ I asked.
‘He’s going overseas with his mum. He’s denying it, but I reckon they’re going to find him a wife.’ I covered my hand with hers. She gripped it and leaned into me.
‘Hello.’ I stiffened as I recognised Jesse’s voice.
Dina wiped her face. ‘I’ve got to go to the bathroom.’
Jesse walked to the front of the table. ‘How are you?’
‘Okay,’ I whispered, terrified, my eyes on the ground.
‘I collected your English homework.’ He handed me an envelope.
When I pulled out a few sheets I saw that he’d collected notes from all my classes, even the ones we didn’t share.
‘Why did you do this?’ I crushed the envelope in my fist. ‘After what I did to you.’
‘You didn’t do anything to me.’
‘What do you mean? I led you on.’
‘No,’ Jesse’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘I let you.’
There had always been softness in his eyes when he’d looked at me; but since Brian’s party it had gone. I guess there were only so many times a person could take rejection before their feelings scabbed over to protect them.
‘I always knew you didn’t like me the way I liked you.’ Jesse sighed and put his hands on the tabletop. ‘I guess I thought that if enough time passed...’