The Magical Reality of Nadia

by Bassem Youssef

  “Hold on,” Titi said. He hopped from the folder to a book cover on her nightstand. “I’ve heard him make fun of your food and stuff. But Jason hates everything Egyptian? Does he hate mathematics? Paper? Toothpaste? How do you know? Does he have gingivitis? Yuck.”

  Nadia came out from behind the pillow to shoot Titi a look. “Is this supposed to be helping?”

  “Sorry,” Titi said. “It’s just … I don’t think this kid hates you because you are Egyptian. He focuses on that because it’s one thing that makes you different. It’s an easy way to get under your skin.”

  Nadia sat up. Jason had called Sarah “four-eyes” behind her back the other day because of her glasses. And he’d made fun of Oona’s new shoes yesterday. “So it’s not just me,” Nadia said. “I get that. And I get that my Egyptian heritage is sort of”—she grabbed the amulet—“obvious, and that’s why he makes fun of it. But …” Nadia lay back down with a sigh. “I am Egyptian—I can’t change that. Jason is just going to keep teasing me.”

  “Exactly,” Titi said. He made himself comfortable on the book cover. “This is not a new problem. People like Jason—bullies—have been around forever. This is classic Nemtynakht.”

  “Classic Nem-what?!” Nadia said.

  “NEM-TEE-NAKT,” Titi said. “Hold up! Miss Did-You-Know doesn’t know the Egyptian parable of ‘The Eloquent Peasant’?!”

  “All right,” Nadia said. “No need to get snarky. It does sound familiar. Just help me out with the details.”

  “Help you out? Is that a call for the fourth solution? Woo-hoo!” Titi did a flip. “I can have some fun with this. Let’s go!”

  “Go where?” Nadia said. But the WHOOSH drowned out her words. She was falling, falling, falling again. At least this time she was prepared for the drop onto the hot sand.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” said Nadia from her bedroom rug. It felt good to be standing on two legs again instead of four.

  “So what do you think?” asked Titi. He was now on the kitten poster. “About Nemtynakht?”

  “He was a bully, all right,” Nadia said. “Big-time. But Khun-Anup—he was a freakin’ superhero.” She jumped up on her bed and struck a power pose. “Nemtynakht thought he was big and bad but Khun-Anup was like, ‘You doofus. You stole my stuff, but I still have my words!’ And Nemtynakht ended up looking like a fool.”

  “Yup,” Titi said. “Nemtynakht helped himself to power but Khun-Anup took it right back.” He pointed at Nadia. “Just like you can do with Jason.”

  Nadia plopped down on the bed. “Oh,” she said. “I see what you did there. Clever.”

  “So you’re good?” Titi said. “About Jason, I mean. ’Cause I think I need to go back into the amulet for a nap. Being a donkey is hard work.”

  Nadia nodded, then opened up the book on her nightstand. Titi jumped inside and struck his pose.

  “To the hippo and beyond!” they said together as Nadia closed the book.

  Once Titi disappeared, Nadia sat down at her desk.

  Take the power back from Jason.

  She could do that. She just had to figure out how.

  Saturday morning, Nadia said a quick goodbye to her parents, grabbed a banana from the kitchen, and set off for Adam’s house, where she was grabbing a ride to the museum. The weather matched her mood—bright and sunny. Last night, she and Titi had come up with the perfect idea for how to present their exhibit. But even better, Jason hadn’t made fun of her all week. She had psyched herself up to take away his power Khun-Anup style, but Jason hadn’t given her the opportunity. Maybe he’d been hit in the head with a basketball and it somehow knocked some sense into him.

  Adam’s stepdad was in the driver’s seat. Nadia slid into the back seat next to Adam.

  “Hey, Adam, Mr. Mayer,” she said as she got into the car.

  “Good morning, Natalie,” said Adam’s stepdad.

  “Nadia,” she and Adam said in unison.

  “Oh, right,” he said. “And you can call me Charlie.”

  “Gotcha,” Nadia said. “Hey! Did you know that Charlie Chaplin once—” But Adam’s stepdad had already turned on the radio. Two guys were discussing an upcoming game. Very loudly.

  Adam shrugged and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Nadia felt a little thrill of excitement when they walked up the steep stone steps leading to the museum entrance. There were important, historic things inside this old building. Tattered flags and military uniforms from long-ago wars. Letters written by US presidents and a spike from the Transcontinental Railroad. The exhibits were all carefully planned out to be informative and interesting and cool-looking. And to think—in just one week’s time, the Nerd Patrol could have an exhibit among them!

  No, Nadia corrected herself. The Nerd Patrol will have an exhibit among them, because we are going to WIN.

  They checked in with the front desk and were directed up a staircase to a cordoned-off hallway.

  “You’ll see a sign that says ‘Staff Only,’” the front desk employee told them, “but go on through.”

  Nadia’s stomach did a little flip. “Awesome,” she whispered to herself.

  Their footsteps echoed as they walked down the empty hallway. The floors and walls were polished marble. Small carvings of eagles decorated the molding near the ceiling. (Fun fact: They were left over from when the museum building was the town’s city hall.)

  At the end of the hallway, the door to the special room was wide open, so Nadia and Adam strode right in. An older woman in a brown cardigan was seated at a table, reviewing some paperwork.

  “Good morning!” Nadia said, so excited she was practically bursting. “Did you know that this museum was built in 1903, on the grounds of the town’s original city hall?”

  The woman jumped at the sound of Nadia’s voice.

  “Oh my Darjeeling!” she cried.

  At first Nadia thought it was a genteel expression of surprise, but she quickly realized the woman had knocked over her Darjeeling tea. The woman tried to mop it off the desk with a single, sodden tissue.

  “Um, I’ll go get some paper towels,” said Adam.

  “Oh, thank you, dear,” the woman said. She grabbed a clipboard, which had luckily escaped the tea. “My name is Ms. Gilson and I am the proctor for this project.” She looked over her glasses at Nadia. “And you are?”

  “Nadia Youssef.” She offered her hand for a handshake.

  Ms. Gilson shook it, then made a check next to Nadia’s name. “Nadia—yes. I have a note here for you. The committee liked your group’s idea, but because of time constraints on the day of the presentations, they requested that you put a special focus on one of your immigrants. The others can each have a shorter entry.”

  “Oh,” said Nadia. Was this one of those times she should make a decision as group leader? She had already finished her immigrant report and it was pretty long. As of yesterday, Adam hadn’t even decided on his immigrant. And Sarah and Chloe and Vikram hadn’t finished theirs. “Okay, we’ll put the focus on the Egyptian immigrant, Dr. Wafaa El-Sadr,” she decided. Nadia was proud of her choice. Dr. El-Sadr devoted her life to the care and treatment of those with AIDS.

  Ms. Gilson made a note on her clipboard. “Very well,” she said.

  Adam returned with the paper towels and they mopped up the tea. Then Ms. Gilson showed them around. “Pick a table,” she told them. “It will belong to your group until the presentation. You can leave your projects here and they’ll be perfectly safe. And over here”—she led them to an area in the back of the room—“are all the materials you have to work with.”

  Nadia was delighted to find boxes of all shapes and sizes, poster board, tons of paper, paints, brushes, glue, markers, colored pencils, glue guns, wood, hammers and nails, needles, thread, bolts of fabric, and lots of other materials.

  She and Adam found a table near the window as other students began to file in. Vikram was the first of their group to arrive.

 
; “Morning, Nadia, Adam,” Vikram said, giving them high fives.

  Sarah and Chloe showed up a moment later and grabbed seats, too.

  They all looked at Nadia expectantly. “So,” Nadia began, “that woman Ms. Gilson was just telling me that we need to keep our presentation short. She suggested we focus on just one immigrant. So get this—your immigrant bios can be much shorter—maybe just half a page or so.”

  “Our bios?” Adam asked. “What about yours?”

  “Yeah, what do you mean?” Sarah added.

  Nadia shifted in her chair. This was supposed to be good news. “Well, I figured since I’m already done writing, mine could be the long one.”

  Chloe frowned. “But I finished mine, too. How come you made that decision without us?”

  Nadia was taken aback. “Because—because I’m group leader. I thought that was my job?”

  Adam frowned. “Your job is to keep us on track, not decide how things go without asking us.”

  “Oh,” Nadia said, a little lump forming in her throat. “Sorry, I just thought it would make everyone’s lives easier.”

  Vikram shrugged. “I haven’t written my part yet. But still, not cool, Nadia.”

  Nadia swallowed. Point taken.

  There were an awkward few moments of silence. Nadia opened up her notebook as Adam drummed his fingers on the table.

  “So we’re supposed to figure out how to present to the museum board today, right?” Chloe finally asked. She looked to Nadia.

  Nadia glanced from Chloe to Sarah to Adam to Vikram. Everyone seemed to expect her to answer. This leader stuff was confusing.

  “Um, yeah,” Nadia said. She pointed to the back of the room. “Those are the materials we have to work with. But I … I actually already have an idea—”

  “I’m going to check out the materials,” Sarah said, popping up from her chair. The others followed and suddenly Nadia was left alone at the table.

  She grabbed her amulet out of habit. Today was not going as planned. She needed to break the tension in the room. And she herself was feeling a bit … shook up. She smiled, thinking of Titi Presley and his giant wall of hair.

  Nadia found the proctor. “Ms. Gilson? Do you think we could put on some music, to liven up the mood in here? It’s a Project Party after all, right?” The proctor didn’t look convinced. Nadia pulled out her phone and turned to a streaming station, taking a wild guess at the older lady’s tastes. “Maybe some … Elvis?” She pressed play and “Blue Suede Shoes” came on.

  Ms. Gilson couldn’t help but smile. “All right,” she said. “Just not too loud.”

  Vikram returned to the table first. “I like it,” he said, swiveling his hips.

  “You put the music on?” Chloe said. “Good idea, Nadia.”

  The others agreed and Nadia breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Speaking of good ideas, I have one for the presentation,” Sarah said. She held up a wooden box. “What if we did a diorama? It could be a mini version of exactly the way we envision the exhibit will look. You know, photographs, and text, and artifacts. Think of all the cool miniatures we could make!” Sarah loved miniatures and collected them the way Nadia collected bobbleheads.

  But Nadia shook her head. “No offense, Sarah, but that’s just too small,” she said. “We need to think big—”

  “Exactly!” Chloe said. “So Adam and I came up with the idea to make a giant book. You know, like the ginormous ones the teachers used to read to the whole class when we were little.”

  Giant book, Nadia wrote down. It’s not as good as my idea, she thought, but—

  POOF! Suddenly, Titi appeared in her notebook in his full Elvis getup. Nadia’s eyes went wide and she dove to cover him up, her head and arms on her notebook.

  “Do I hear some Elvis tunes?” Titi said in a soft, muffled voice. “I thought maybe I could entertain your group with a lip sync, since I already have the outfit and all.”

  Nadia’s mind raced. Had she said help while holding the amulet? What was Titi doing here?

  “Um, Nadia?” Sarah tapped her on the shoulder and leaned in to see what Nadia was hiding. “Are you okay? Is that an idea for our project?”

  Nadia peeked at Titi. He was frozen on the paper. At least he had that much sense. Nadia cautiously sat up.

  “N-no,” Nadia said. “It’s just something I was doodling.”

  “Weird doodle,” Sarah said, eyeing the page. “Since when are you so into Elvis?”

  “I’m—I’m not,” Nadia answered. “I just—”

  “Can we focus here?” Adam said. “Our presentation? Giant book idea?”

  “Oh yeah,” Nadia said. “Go on.”

  But as Adam started talking, a bead of sweat appeared on Titi’s forehead, from holding his awkward Elvis pose, Nadia figured. Nadia stood up, interrupting Adam.

  “I … I’ll be right back,” she said. She grabbed her notebook and dashed into the hallway.

  “Titi! What are you doing here?” she said as soon as the door was closed behind her.

  Titi was now dressed like Indiana Jones, in a fedora, leather jacket, and khakis. He lifted the edge of his hat with the handle of the whip he was holding. “Guess who found out his new power?” he said with a wink.

  “No more need for me to hold the hippo amulet and say help?” Nadia guessed.

  He smiled broadly. “I can come and go as I please now,” he said. “Isn’t that fantastic?”

  “That’s one word for it,” said Nadia.

  “I’m here to see how the Egyptian Extravaganza is going.” He unfurled the whip and drew it back to crack it. Unfortunately, it somehow got wrapped around his legs and he crashed to the ground, losing his hat in the process.

  “I meant to do that,” said Titi, unwrapping himself. Nadia just rolled her eyes.

  “The project is going …” She paused. It certainly wasn’t going great. “Fine. It was going fine until you showed up,” she said. “Listen, if you’re going to pop up whenever you please, we have to make some ground rules. You have to be discreet—no popping up when I’m sitting two feet from my friends.”

  “Okay, okay,” Titi said. “I get it. Keep under the radar. Your friends aren’t ready for this fabulousness anyway.” He snapped his whip again and managed to stay on his feet this time.

  Nadia rolled her eyes again.

  Titi smiled sheepishly. “Sorry I threw you off your game. Now get back in there and show ’em what you’ve got. You’re going to share that awesome idea for the presentation, right?”

  Nadia nodded. She better get back inside, before her group went with a different idea. She waved to Titi, then gently closed her notebook.

  Back inside, Vikram was sharing an idea. Nadia slid back into her seat.

  “We need to think bold. Original. Attention getting.” He looked around at everyone and then dramatically pulled a microphone out from under the table. He jumped up and stood on his chair, then sang his idea into the microphone. “I think we need to do a musicaaaaal!”

  “Shhhhhh!” said Ms. Gilson. She was starting to look annoyed with their table.

  “Vikram’s right,” Nadia said.

  “You like the musical idea?” Vikram said excitedly, hopping back down. “I already wrote some lyrics for my immigrant.” He cleared his throat and began to sing—more quietly this time—to the tune of “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.”

  “I was working on the space shuttle

  Kalpana Chawla was my name

  I was the first Indian woman in space

  The robotic arm’s my claim to fame—”

  “Actually,” Nadia said, cutting him off. “I was thinking … What if we did a musical, just without the music?”

  “You mean a play?” Sarah asked. Vikram frowned.

  “Sort of,” said Nadia. “Remember when my parents took me to Disneyland last spring break?” She turned to Adam, who was staring down at the table. Was he even listening?

  Whatever, Nadia thought, glancing
at the clock. They had to decide on an idea and get started working. She continued.

  “My dad really wanted to go to the Hall of Presidents. I was all set for it to be lame, but the whole animatronic thing was actually kind of cool. I was thinking we could dress up like our characters and then pretend we’re animatronic. Move like robots, you know?” She demonstrated by turning and moving her arms slowly. “Like when it starts we’re all standing totally still while there’s patriotic music playing and an introduction that we recorded that tells all about how important immigrants have been to the history of the United States. And then, one by one, we start speaking and telling our stories.”

  Vikram frowned. “That’s not as fun as a musical.”

  “Hmm. It would make us stand out from the other groups, I’ll give you that,” Chloe said. “What do you think, Adam?”

  Adam shrugged.

  SLAM!

  The door flew open and a bunch of boys walked in, laughing and pushing one another. To her dismay, Nadia saw that it was Jason, Aiden, and Mike. Aiden was holding a football under his arm. Jason walked to the other side of the room. “Yo, Aiden!” he called. “Over here!”

  Nadia gasped. “You can’t toss a football in a museum!” she said.

  “But you can play Elvis music?” said Adam. “Calm down, Grandma. Ms. Gilson is shutting it down.”

  Ms. Gilson hurried over and ushered the boys to a table. Nadia was pleased that it was on the other side of the room. And that the proctor confiscated their football.

  “They may need that,” said Adam worriedly. “For their project. It’s about football, you know.”

  “I know,” said Nadia. Dumbest idea ever. She turned back to her group.

  “So are we all set with the animatronic idea?” Nadia asked. “We’ll need costumes. Makeup. Wigs. We’ll have to write scripts. And props, we’ll need props.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Sarah. “We should vote on it. Chloe, what do you think?”

  “If we’re not going to do the giant book, the animatronic thing sounds okay,” Chloe said.

  “I maintain that the musical is still the best,” Vikram said. “But maybe my robot can sing?”