Chapter 17

RASHIDA AND HER FATHER

14th of Jumaada al-THanny 1417

(October 27, 1996)

Rashida’s mother wrote her the same day and insisted she contact her father who worked at the complex. Rashida never replied.

The Meccan streets shortened into cuts and slants as she walked closer to the Kaa’bah one evening. A northerly wind chilled the city. The shops sold pots and pans, silk garments, novelties, and religious trinkets. Food stands roasted lamb and chicken logs on spits. She passed veiled women carrying shopping bags. The streets were unmarked. The main avenues, however, were labeled by old signposts under which taxi cabs inched forward in traffic.

The neighborhood children tugged on her chador. The cripples displayed their deformities for spare change. She found a café in the middle of a short block. The male patrons in the front sections fed on bread and an assortment of spicy meats. Curtains were drawn over the family section stocked with women and children. She indulged in a chicken kabob before meeting Khozem who had been saying prayers in the Kaa’bah.

At home they read books, most of which were interpretations and commentaries on the Holy Scriptures. They lived in an apartment without a telephone, without windows. An unmade mattress served as their only resting place.

A simple truth was more difficult to tell than the grandest of all lies. She had immersed herself in illegalities, with, of all people, the bavasaab’s son. She hoped to avoid her family altogether.

They walked apart from each other as the city prohibited even remote displays of affection. Rashida walked in front as Khozem followed. They turned a corner and approached their apartment building. Rashida noticed someone familiar standing out front.

“Father?” asked Rashida.

“Yes ... Yes indeed. I have been waiting all day for you,” said Iqbal Pendi.

Rashida bent down to kiss his hands.

“This is Khozem,” she said.

“I must speak to my daughter alone regarding a very urgent family matter,” said Pendi respectfully.

“What’s wrong, father?”

“I came to speak to you alone.”

Khozem went upstairs, after Rashida nodded in consent.

“We may talk tonight, sure,” replied Rashida. “I’m sorry for making you wait. How did you find me? Did you call Cairo?”

“Sure I did. Your mother is very worried about you. I had to see what was going on.”

“I have to pray now.”

“Prayers can wait. I’m disappointed. I guess Al Karim is not the place for you. I heard you moved on. Your mother said something about a job?”

“Just a few blocks from the corner.”

“You must have long hours to be coming home so late.”

“I was with Khozem.”

“What does this Khozem do for a living? You two are planning to get married?”

“I was going to tell you all about him. He works on carpentry, and when he is not doing that, he remains in the Kaa’bah.”

“So you must be supporting him?”

“His pay is low. I’m supporting him until he finds something suitable.”