He Can Move the Mountains

by Catherine Barbey

  Azamat opened his eyes. He’d never heard anyone pray like that before. It was as if his sister actually knew God personally. Was that possible? He rubbed his temple. The tension headache had gone. Perhaps he was feeling a sense of peace about it all, just as Bela had prayed.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly in his throat. “I... I’d better be going.”

  He grabbed his things, gave Bela a quick hug, and jogged down the stairwell.

  “Let me know how it turns out!” he heard her call out after him.

  AZAMAT RANG UP THE customer’s payment in his till, and watched the man disappear out of the door with his package. The bell tinkled as the door closed. It was nearly closing time. He’d just wait a little longer to see if there would be any more customers. He sat back down in his chair.

  His new assistant would be starting next week. He and Cody had interviewed a few people and they’d settled on one of the candidates. A young man they both knew from various cycling tournaments they’d put on over the last few years. He was experienced and eager and would do well. It would be nice having someone else to talk to; it was getting kind of lonely just being in the shop on his own all day. It gave him too much time to think.

  Of course, he’d been thinking of nothing else but the situation with Alikhan. Bela had prayed for clarity, and it seemed that the only way forward was to talk to Milana. He couldn’t go to Alikhan directly. The poor boy would get such a shock, he didn’t want to be the one to tell him. He couldn’t warn Alyona off either, because she’d want to know why. He loved his niece, but she had a mind of her own and had always needed to know the reason behind anything before she’d obeyed, even with Mama. No, he’d have to talk to Milana. But how? Where? And how would he even begin to explain that he’d been stalking Alikhan for the past month or so without Milana knowing, after he’d promised to keep away? Besides, he would have to see her again, and that would just pour salt on his already open wound. The girl that he loved, married to someone else, and now hating him for interfering in her life once again.

  There was something else that Azamat couldn’t get out of his mind, either. That time that he’d spent with Bela, when she’d prayed for him. Maybe her God was real, after all? Maybe she and Michael had something that Azamat wanted in his life too. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have that kind of peace and trust? Not to feel completely on your own all the time. To believe that someone more powerful than you was looking out for you. Watching over you. But God, if he did exist, wouldn’t be interested in a person like Azamat. He’d made far too many mistakes, done far too many things wrong. He’d cheated and stolen and been in trouble with the police. He’d been into drugs and alcohol. He’d slept around and got a girl pregnant, and then left her to bring their child up without him. He hadn’t even tried to fight to be a part of his son’s life. He’d run away from home, got involved in a terrorist organisation, and come within a hair’s breadth of committing one of the most awful crimes this country had seen in decades. He’d nearly killed hundreds of children, and perhaps himself in the process. What kind of God would want to accept him? That kind of God couldn’t possibly be worth following.

  Azamat took his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts list to find Milana’s name. He’d added it a few weeks ago when he’d found Madina’s phone lying around at home. It had been a totally spontaneous thing; he didn’t know why he’d done it at the time. He pressed the ring button before he had a chance to think twice. God or no God, he was on his own on this one. He’d made the mistake, and he was the one who’d have to rectify it. Even if it meant that his son would hate him for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 13

  Milana

  Milana helped her mother-in-law wash up the last of the dishes from the evening meal. Usually she was quite chatty, but tonight her mind was elsewhere.

  “Is everything alright, dear?” her mother-in-law asked, as she added a few more drops of washing up liquid to the sponge.

  “What? Sorry. Um, yes, everything’s fine, thank you. I have a bit of a headache. I think I’ll go and lie down.”

  “Yes, of course. I hope it passes soon.”

  Milana dried her hands on the towel. She was so lovely, her mother-in-law. She was lucky, really. She knew of many friends who’d been made to feel like household servants by the matriarch of the family, but never Murat’s mother. Of course, it helped that her own mother and Murat’s mother had been best friends as children. But still.

  She glanced into the living room and shot a meaningful look at her husband, who was sitting in a chair reading a newspaper. He got the message that she wanted to talk, and followed her into their bedroom, at the back of the house.

  Milana waited until he’d sat down on the bed, and then, after a quick glance to check that her in-laws weren’t lurking around nearby, she closed the door.

  “Is something up? Is Alikhan okay?” Murat asked.

  “Yes, yes, he’s fine. It’s not that.”

  “What is it then?”

  Milana looked at her husband. He was a sweet, kind man, like his mother really. He’d been a good husband to her over the years. But had he been hiding something from her? She narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. She had to find out the truth.

  “I went to the doctor a few weeks ago” It was a relief to finally get those words out.

  “Oh, are you okay?”

  Dear Murat, he really was concerned about her. She swallowed and continued. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “I wanted to know why I haven’t been able to get pregnant again since having Alikhan.”

  “Oh.” From that one word Milana could tell that Murat knew something she didn’t. Guilt was written all over his face.

  “The doctor said there was nothing wrong with me. It must be you. Did you know?”

  There was a long silence while Murat was clearly considering how he was going to tell her what he was hiding from her. He took her hand and looked deep into her eyes.

  “First, I want you to know that I always loved you, Milana. Even when we were children, playing together when our mothers met up. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “But?”

  “But... When I was younger, I got a virus. I don’t know what it was, but painful red lumps appeared all over my body, including...” He coughed, his cheeks flushing a little with embarrassment. “Including down there.”

  “Oh,” Milana said, withdrawing her hand. She hadn’t known this.

  Murat continued. “When my mother took me to the doctor for a check-up a few months later, they made me stand outside in the corridor, but I listened at the door and heard everything they said. I heard the word sterile. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but when I was older, I had some tests done without telling my mother. They told me that, yes, I was sterile. I would never have any children.”

  “So, you knew? You knew before we got married, and you never told me?”

  Murat looked at her, his eyes wide like a scared rabbit. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It’s just... You were already pregnant.”

  Milana got up from the bed and walked to the other side of the room. She turned around to face him, her arms folded tight across her middle, her eyes blazing.

  “You... You used me? You knew you wouldn’t be able to have a child of your own, so you thought you’d take mine?”

  Murat stood up too. He took a step towards her and then thought better of it.

  “It wasn’t like that. You have to understand. Your parents... They were desperate to save your honour. Your reputation. I thought that if I married you then I was doing you a favour.”

  “Favour? Hah!”

  Murat sat down again and ran his hand through his hair. “This is coming out all wrong.” He looked at her again, and she could see the pain and anguish in his eyes. “I love you, Milana. I’ve always wanted what was best for you. I thought maybe you’d be happy with just one child. I tried hard to provide for you and Alikhan. I’ve
loved him like he was my own.” Murat looked up, his eyes suddenly wide with panic. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  “No, no.” Milana sat back down again, her anger dissipating. “He doesn’t know. That was the deal, remember?”

  “I appreciate that. I know it’s been hard.” He started reaching for her hand but changed his mind. Instead he placed his hands back on his knees and rubbed them up and down nervously.

  “But why didn’t you tell me?” Milana felt completely shell-shocked. How had it taken so long for her to find this out?

  “I was afraid we’d end up having a fight, like this one.” He laughed a little.

  Milana thought for a while. “And your parents? Did they know? Is that why they’ve been so nice to me, because they knew that they were resigning me to a life with just one child?” Her heart was beating faster again.

  “No, I mean, obviously they suspected at some level, but that’s not the reason. They really like you.”

  Milana stood up again and walked over to the window. She fiddled with the hem of the net curtain. “I can’t believe no one told me. All these years, you’ve just let me think that we might have another baby, but now I know we can’t.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted another baby.”

  When Murat spoke those words, a strong desire welled up in Milana’s body. She did want another baby. So badly. She had just always assumed she could, but now? Now, that was it. She was just an old maid with only grandchildren to look forward to.

  “Milana?” Murat still looked terrified. Suddenly she knew she had the power to leave him if she wanted to. Once people knew the reason, no one would question her. A quick, quiet divorce. Then she could start again with someone else. But did she want to start again with someone else?

  “I’m so confused. This is all such a shock. I need to think.” She felt queasy, like she was about to vomit.

  “Yes, of course.” Murat stood up. “I’ll leave you in peace.” He walked out, shutting the door gently behind him. Milana waited a moment and then gave a muffled cry of rage and punched the pillow beside her. Arghh, she was so angry! How could he do this to her? How could he lie to her all these years? She’d never really loved him, but she’d respected him at least. Liked him, even. But now? She hated him for playing her like a fool.

  MILANA HAD NEVER BEEN to Madina’s workplace before. Madina worked for a solicitor’s firm as a secretary. She had had to go to college and get some more qualifications, but she’d been motivated to start her life over again properly after Musa left her. Good for her, thought Milana as she looked around the smart office space. It seemed like a nice working environment, and the people were friendly.

  “See you tomorrow, Madina,” said a kind-looking man in a dark suit. His eyes smiled warmly at Madina, as she smiled back and gathered her things into her handbag.

  “Hi Milana!” she said as she walked over to where Milana was waiting by the door. “Sorry about that. I just had a couple of things to finish off. Are we still on for coffee?”

  “Of course, and no problem. I like it here,” said Milana, giving another approving glance around the room.

  “Yes, it’s a great place to work,” Madina replied. “I can’t believe I’ve been here nearly a year already.”

  They walked to one of their favourite cafés just a couple of blocks down the road, near the main town square. They chose a table near the window and Milana ordered two cappuccinos. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to tell her friend. Should she mention the test results and the recent revelation from her husband, or would that be a betrayal? Perhaps she shouldn’t be talking openly about those kinds of issues, even with a close friend. But it would be good to get it out into the open. Her mind had been so anxious just thinking about it all over the past week or so.

  “I met up with Musa,” announced Madina, suddenly. Milana put thoughts of sterile husbands to one side and leaned in to hear more from her friend.

  “What? When? Where?”

  “Yesterday. In a neutral place. Another café in town. It was his suggestion.” Madina fiddled with her napkin.

  “And? How did it go?” asked Milana.

  “It went okay. Fortunately, there was no one there who knew us. I couldn’t bear it if the gossip started again.”

  Milana put her hand on top of Madina’s and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. “It was really brave of you.”

  Madina let out a big sigh. “I know. I spent seven years trying to rebuild my life and move on. I refuse to let that man affect me again.”

  “Absolutely. Was Alyona there too?”

  “Yes. She was nervous, the poor thing. But who can blame her? She hasn’t seen her father for years and then he suddenly turns up out of the blue.” Madina’s dark eyes flashed with indignation.

  “So, what did he say?”

  “He said,” Madina mimicked Musa’s voice, “I shouldn’t have just walked away from you like that, Alyona, I’m sorry. I was hoping you might give me another chance. You are my daughter. I want to make it up to you.” She laughed cynically.

  “Really?” Milana felt almost as indignant as Madina did.

  “Yes. Apparently, he was at the regional dance finals and watched Alyona dance. He told her how proud he was of her, as if he had anything to do with it.”

  “So, he turned on the charm, did he. And did she fall for it?” Milana asked.

  “Yes, I think she did. I mean, what young girl doesn’t want to make her father proud? He offered to take her shopping and everything.”

  “Oh, clever guy,” Milana laughed. But then she rethought. “Well, would that be so bad?”

  “I guess not,” Madina admitted. “And Alyona seemed okay with it. It’s just...”

  “What?”

  “He let it slip that he and his floozy, whatever her name is, are no longer together. Then, he offered to drive us home, but I said no because the last thing I wanted was for the village gossips to be speculating over whether we were getting back together or not. And then he said, ‘Would that be so bad?’ I mean, you could have knocked me over with a feather. What kind of idiot does he think I am to even consider getting back together with him?”

  Milana let out a sarcastic laugh. “Imagine!”

  Madina continued, leaning forward and looked at her with a seriousness that Milana hadn’t seen for a long time. “That man made me miserable, Milana. Yes, I loved him at first, or at least I thought I did. But we had, what, maybe four months of happy marriage before the cracks started to appear? I mustn’t allow myself to forget the misery he put me through. The suspicions, the arguments, and then admitting the affairs and telling me he wanted a divorce. The embarrassment of having to return home. The wagging tongues, the averted eyes. ‘Yes, of course, it was probably the woman’s fault. That nice, young Musa, he could do no wrong, surely.’ Thankfully Mama and Papa had seen right through him. They believed my stories and supported me through the divorce, but it hasn’t been easy, you know, starting over again. And I’m happy now. I have a good job. Alyona’s doing well. And then, well. There’s Oleg.”

  Milana choked a little on her coffee. “Oleg? Who’s Oleg. Wait, let me guess. That nice-looking man who said goodbye to you at the office?”

  Madina blushed and stirred her coffee. “Yes,” she admitted. “We’ve, um, been enjoying a little gentle flirting. It’s not led to anything, yet. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to Alyona and her future, doesn’t it? I still don’t trust Musa, but what’s best for my daughter? Please help me decide what to do!”

  At that very moment Milana’s phone rang from the bottom of her handbag. She unhooked her bag from the back of the chair and scrambled to find the device and cut it off before it drew too much attention from the other customers.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled to Madina. She located the phone and hesitated briefly as she glanced at the number that appeared on it. Unrecognised. She nearly hung up, it was probably a wrong number, but something in her made her want to answer it. She s
tood up and held her hand up to Madina.

  “Hold that thought! I’ll be back in a second. I just need to step outside, it’s too noisy in here.”

  She walked out onto the pavement just outside the coffee shop. The phone was still ringing. She pressed the answer button, relieved to put an end at last to the irritating noise.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  The caller didn’t say anything more. “Hello?” Milana said again. The voice had sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Azamat.”

  The phone nearly fell out of her hand, and she just grabbed it in time. Azamat? After all this time? And just when she’d been thinking about him? Her heart started racing, and her fingers kept slipping as she scrambled to put the phone back up to her ear again.

  “Azamat?” she said at last, her voice shaky. “How did you get my number?”

  “I’m sorry. I found it on Madina’s phone when she wasn’t looking.”

  “Madina?” She glanced through the window at her friend who was sitting drinking her coffee on one of the tables, innocently oblivious.

  “Madina. Alyona’s mother. Madina is my sister. You didn’t know?”

  “Madina is your sister?” Milana slumped back against the wall and placed a now sweaty palm on her forehead. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “Madina is your sister?” she said again. “No, I didn’t know. How long ago did you make the connection?”