Unspoken Rules

by Lora Inak

  Juliette, Misha and Mirna all tutted, shaking their heads.

  ‘Elbira was always a bit on the wild side,’ Mirna said. ‘I hope that boy at least marries her so she’s not totally disgraced.’

  ‘Her poor parents,’ Alya said.

  Misha shrugged. ‘She’s a lost soul.’

  ‘Why is she a lost soul? Just ’cause she followed her heart.’ Natalie thought Elbira was brave. It took serious courage to break away like that.

  Misha glared at her. ‘Zip it, Natalie. You just don’t get it.’

  ‘What is it exactly I don’t get?’ Natalie shot back. She knew there was no point having this argument with Misha or any of the other girls, but she couldn’t help it. Their backwards thinking irked her.

  ‘Ladies, let’s all settle down,’ Juliette cut in, hands raised. ‘On a lighter note, we have rated Asim, and unfortunately, it’s a four out of ten.’

  ‘What? He’s at least a six,’ Mirna squealed. Her gold loop earrings shook as she bobbed in her chair. ‘I’d walk him down the aisle for sure.’

  ‘You’d walk anyone down the aisle,’ Juliette giggled.

  ‘I’m with Jules,’ Yalda added. ‘Asim’s not husband material yet. I’ve got my eye on Shefik.’

  Natalie sighed. Sometimes she wished the girls in her community would talk about something other than boys and marriage. She turned to Alya.

  ‘Hey, Alya. Hows things?’

  Alya bit her lower lip. ‘Good,’ she squeaked, barely audible over all the noise. ‘You?’

  ‘Same as usual. Bit nervous about my final year of high school. How about you? You’re in your final year too, right?’

  ‘Nah, I dropped out. Baba needs me to work at the milkbar full time.’

  ‘Oh. I thought you wanted to study nursing.’

  ‘Yeah. I did. But you know what my Baba is like.’ Alya ran her fingers through her thick wavy hair, twisting the ends around her knuckles.

  Natalie knew Alya’s Baba. Everyone knew him, knew what a mean and strict man he was. Living in Australia had only served to push his thinking further back into the past. Natalie wondered why he’d even bothered to immigrate to Australia. If he was so keen to stick to the old ways, why not stay in Syria?

  Natalie gritted her teeth. ‘What about what you want?’

  Eyes downcast, Alya shrugged.

  ‘I’m going to look for Baba.’ Natalie stood. She knew if she sat there any longer, she’d say something she’d regret. Besides, Natalie was glad to have an excuse to be out in the fresh air. The church hall needed a revamp. It was stuck in some time warp with its cream wallpaper, dusty green linoleum floors and brown window frames. Sometimes it seemed as if the room closed in on her.

  She walked across the concrete courtyard with its sparse foliage and uneven pathway and back into the red brick church. The lights had been dimmed, and candlelight illuminated the corner shrine devoted to deceased family members. The smell of incense still hung in the air. Natalie could just make out her father’s silhouette. He dipped a long thin yellow candle into the flame of another before planting it next to a collection of others. Each candle blazed in remembrance of passed family members.

  He turned. ‘Ah … Natalie. Sorry. I forgot we were going to light the candle together.’ He walked over and wrapped a strong arm around her shoulder. ‘My mama was such a good, kind woman. A woman worthy to sit beside Allah himself. A light left the world when she died.’ Baba’s brown eyes softened.

  Natalie barely remembered her meyme. She was only seven when Meyme died, but she often heard about how kind and generous she was.

  ‘What about your baba? Should we light a candle for him?’

  Seyidi had died long before either she or Misha was born. Baba never spoke of him and Natalie always wondered why. Maybe her father might open up now, share something about Seyidi.

  Baba’s shoulders stiffened. ‘No. No need to light a candle for him. Anyway young lady,’ he said, a little too brightly, ‘Let’s go. Back to our community. Without community, we are like sheep without a flock.’

  Baba led her out of the church, across the courtyard and back into the hall. He called out to a close friend and within minutes was lost to Natalie in animated conversation about President Assad. Misha and Juliette were chatting with the same group of girls and comparing mobile phone cases. Natalie glanced about. Where did she belong? She was unmarried and too young to be with the women in the kitchen who talked about their homes and children. She was also too old to be running around with the children. It would have been unacceptable for her to smoke and converse with the men, and she didn’t quite fit in with the girls in the community. They were so preoccupied with community gossip and finding husbands that Natalie found it hard to relate to them.

  Holding a tray of Turkish coffee, Aunty Jasmina manoeuvered her way around the hall, reminding Natalie that maybe Mama needed help. She darted into the crowded kitchen. The place was humming with young to middle-aged women. They worked together around the stove, the sink, the oven … chopping, washing, wiping, laughing, gossiping, sharing troubles, bumping into each other, rubbing each other’s pregnant bellies. Natalie scanned the outdated kitchen with its chipped Laminex benches and electric cooktops, but couldn’t see her mother.

  ‘Natalie. Marhaban.’ A woman called Melissa motioned to her. ‘Where is your Mama? Her pastries are starting to burn. Go get her.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ She darted back out. Mama wasn’t in the kitchen, and she wasn’t in the hall or the church either. She must be in the bathroom.

  Natalie walked behind the hall. Hushed angry voices brought her to a sudden halt.

  ‘Why are you doing this right now?’ her mother whispered. ‘It’s not the time or place. People will talk.’

  ‘You never answer your t ... telephone, S… S… Selma, and you t ... tell me not to c … come to your house. Where else am I s … s … supposed to “do this’’?’

  It was the woman with the stammer. Natalie flattened herself against the wall and held her breath.

  ‘I will come to your house with the money next week,’ Mama answered

  ‘All of it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Mama’s voice sounded taut, ready to snap.

  ‘If you d ... d ... don’t, I will come to your house.’ The threat was clear.

  Why would this woman be threatening Mama here? Away from the others, as if she had something to hide?

  ‘I have to get back.’ Mama’s high heels tapped along the concrete path.

  Natalie sprinted back into the hall. She couldn’t make any sense of what she’d just heard. Her mother had never mentioned the woman with the stammer before, and thinking back, she couldn’t ever remember them even talking. So why was Mama being threatened by her now? Was she buying something secret from her? Something Baba didn’t know about? Natalie plonked herself back on her chair, taking long breaths to settle her thumping heart.

  ‘Is it really bad luck to wear black?’ Mirna asked.

  ‘Only if you wear it to the church service. It’s okay for the reception,’ Juliette replied, the self-appointed authority on appropriate wedding attire. ‘Don’t wear anything too short, and never ever wear white, or off white or cream, or anything too tight,’ she added, looking pointedly at Alya. ‘That’s a big wedding no no.’

  Alya’s cheeks reddened.

  Mama strutted into the hall with a tray of hot pastries. She smiled, zigzagging her way around tables and chairs, bending to offer people food and making small talk as if nothing had happened. Natalie watched her carefully, hoping for a clue about what she’d just overheard. Mama gave nothing away. Caramel-coloured eyes alight and red lips inviting, she was as vibrant and beautiful as any woman half her age. Natalie had her eyes, but shared little else. Her mother was extroverted and bubbly and could fill a room with her laughter and conversation. Natalie was awkward, pensive and
reserved.

  ‘Natalie. Natalie, are you deaf?’ Misha poked her in the ribs.

  ‘Stop that. What is it?’

  ‘Are you off with the fairies?’ Misha shook her head and gave Juliette a ‘see I told you so’ look.

  ‘No. I’m just tired.’

  ‘Well maybe you should listen to me then. Baba says it’s time to go home.’

  Chapter 4

  ‘So,’ Ms Pratt said, scribbling on the smart-board, ‘if the interest rate is quoted as 6% per annum, what amount needs to be invested in order for the investment to be worth $850 at year’s end? I want you all to take the last twenty minutes of this class and really think about the process of solving this. These are the types of questions you’ll see in your final year exams.’

  ‘Do you want to work on the problem together?’ Angela asked, taking off her glasses and giving them a quick polish with the hem of her school dress.

  ‘Sure,’ Natalie had only half-listened to Ms Pratt, busy instead thinking about her mother’s hushed conversation the day before, and worried about what excuse she’d give Katelyn for not accepting a lift after school. Katelyn’s mum always picked them up on Mondays. ‘That would be great.’

  Thankfully Angela was a maths wiz. Within minutes, she’d solved the problem and then spent the following fifteen minutes telling Natalie about her cousin’s wedding and how the Sri Lankan side of the family were upset that the Irish side hadn’t made an effort to dress in traditional attire. Angela’s parents were also really strict about her dating boys, but they were pretty relaxed about parties and sleepovers.

  When the bell rang for the end of the day, Natalie rushed to the locker room, dodging through the crowd of other students, and grabbed her bag. If she was quick enough, she might avoid Katelyn altogether.

  ‘Natso … ’ Katelyn called.

  Damn! ‘Oh. Hey, Kate.’

  Katelyn hesitated. ‘Do you want a lift home?’

  ‘No. That’s cool. I’d rather walk. I need some fresh air.’ It had become so awkward being around her.

  Katelyn’s face fell. ‘Fine.’ Her lips thinned as she walked past Natalie to her locker.

  ‘Um. See you tomorrow,’ Natalie squeaked.

  Katelyn spun around. ‘Really? Do you really want to see me tomorrow? Kind of feels like you don’t even want to see me right now.’

  Stupid! What made her think for a second that Katelyn hadn’t sensed the uneasiness between them. ‘Listen, Kate … I.’ God, this was so icky.

  ‘Save me the bullshit, Nat. Just give it to me straight. What’s this all about? And don’t do your usual “evading the issue” crap. I’m not stupid, I can tell you don’t want to hang out with me anymore.’

  Natalie knew she was the one making things weird between them. Katelyn could do whatever she wanted with her body. But even so, it was hard to reconcile the fact that Katelyn had had sex with an almost stranger. Shouldn’t she have waited for it to be with someone she had feelings for, someone she loved? In her culture, women didn’t necessarily love the man they married, but at least they’d committed to each other first, committed to eventually loving each other. Try as she might, Natalie couldn’t push off the feeling that somehow Katelyn had changed.

  ‘Can you please keep your voice down?’ Natalie hissed. ‘People are listening in. Can we talk about this in private?’

  Katelyn crossed her arms. ‘That’s just your way of “evading the issue”. Just forget it. It’s pretty obvious you can’t handle the “thing” I told you about. You’re treating me like I have some contagious disease. Pretty bloody juvenile, Natalie, and really unfair.’ She yanked her school bag out of her locker and stormed out, tears glistening in her eyes.

  Hands shaking, Natalie made her way home, blinking back her own tears. Was Katelyn right? Had she been treating her that way? She hadn’t meant to. It’s just that Katelyn had become a stranger so suddenly. Natalie bit her lip, her stomach in tangles. She and Katelyn never fought. Never, since the day Katelyn had walked over to her in Year Seven and asked if she had any chewing gum because her breath was cheesy. They’d both laughed, and that was it. They were best friends.

  She gripped the handles of her school bag and carefully readjusted it over her shoulder. The handles were weak from overuse and she really wanted them to last the entire year. It had become some weird obsession with her. Her bag made her feel safe; it gave her comfort. It was a constant through all her years in high school, a link to her thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and seventeen-year-old self. And throughout all those years, Katelyn had been by her side, accepting her just as she was, restrictive culture and all. And now, with the divide between them, it suddenly felt so much more important for her bag to stay together. Perhaps if the handles held on, then maybe things between them would get back on track. Perhaps their friendship would hold on too.

  Cars powered past. The wind picked up and played with the hem of her school dress. The chatter of other students walking home floated over. She barely heard them. Her ears were filled with the sound of her thundering heart. When a hand patted her shoulder, she cried out.

  ‘Wow. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Chris held his hands up. ‘I called out a few times, but you didn’t hear me.’

  Chest heaving, she shook her head. ‘That’s okay. Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

  ‘Happy to listen.’ Chris smiled, his cheeks pink.

  Natalie found herself concentrating on the line of his neck and the curve of his mouth. She couldn’t understand why she was so super aware of him. It was as if her skin was somehow drawn to his. She pulled her gaze away and focused on the uneven footpath. If she didn’t stop looking at him, she’d do or say something stupid.

  ‘Do you walk this way?’ She wasn’t ready to spill her guts. She hardly knew him.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you around.’

  ‘Dad and I were staying at my aunt’s place in Kew, so I had to take the bus in, but over the weekend we moved into our own place. As of today, I walk home. I don’t mind if I’ve got company though.’ Chris winked at her.

  Flustered, Natalie said the first thing that sprang to her head. ‘Yes, and lucky you, ’cause I’m incredibly fascinating.’ God. Why had she said that! She was such a loser. She should have just kept her eyes on the footpath like she’d meant to.

  Chris threw his head back and laughed. ‘Okay. Tell me something fascinating.’

  Now the pressure was on. Say something fascinating or come across as a complete idiot. ‘Ummm …’ She stalled, remembering her morning coffee. ‘Okay. Did you know that decaf coffee still has caffeine in it?’

  ‘That’s interesting, but not fascinating.’ Chris raised his eyebrows.

  Right. Either step it up or be ready to fall flat on her face. ‘Okay. So you want something more.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘How about this? Did you know that caffeine makes painkillers like aspirin stronger?’

  Chris switched his school bag from one shoulder to another. ‘Nice one. I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Was it fascinating enough for you?’

  ‘Yes. But I’ll expect the facts to get ever more fascinating each day.’

  How was she to respond to the challenge? She should say something witty. ‘I’ll do my best to suitably satisfy your needs.’

  It was Chris’s turn to blush.

  When the double meaning of what she’d said sank in, she slapped her hand over her mouth. Why had she even tried to be witty? She wasn’t witty. She’d never be witty. Katelyn was the witty one.

  ‘I … I …,’ she stuttered. ‘I meant ...’ Natalie buried her face in her hands. Was anything going to go right today? ‘Shit!’

  Face flushed, Chris ripped a bunch of gum leaves off a nearby tree. He tore each leaf to pieces and threw them onto the footpath. ‘I’ve got a fascinating fact for you,’ he
said, tearing off another handful.

  Grateful he’d changed the topic, Natalie exhaled. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Did you know that caterpillars completely liquefy as they transform into moths?’

  Natalie grinned, raising her eyebrows. ‘That’s interesting, but not fascinating.’ She ducked as Chris threw the leaves at her.

  They walked together, hands brushing, the awkwardness gone. She was actually kind of comfortable with him. How strange. She’d never felt that way with any other boy at school, but then again, the other boys at school didn’t make much of an effort with her. To them, she was the weird Middle Eastern girl who probably had a terrorist for a father.

  The sun warmed Natalie’s face as she watched the light flicker across the honey-bronze hints in Chris’s hair. He had such smooth skin. Such perfect white teeth. He was so unlike Jozef. How could Misha want someone like Jozef when there were boys like Chris in the world?

  She marvelled at how only half an hour ago, she’d been tired, low, upset. Emotions were fickle. Maybe Misha would get over Jozef. Maybe things between Katelyn and her would go back to how it was before.

  ‘Do you want to come to a party?’ Chris broke the silence.

  An invitation! Really? ‘There’s a party? Whose?’

  ‘One of the guys from my footy team. His parents are going overseas in a few weeks, so he’s having a party while they’re away. We’re all inviting a couple of people. It won’t be anything big.’

  He came to an abrupt stop in front of a small weatherboard house. The lawn was a mess of overgrown plants and the concrete steps leading to the front door were cracked.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Nope. This is where I live now. It’s kinda old, but Dad and I don’t mind.’ Chris dropped his school bag. He leaned against the rusted metal letterbox. ‘So?’

  Natalie knew what he was getting at, but she needed time to think. She wasn’t allowed to go to parties, unless they were for family members, or held in the church hall. Katelyn was right; she wasn’t even allowed to sleep over at her place, or anyone else’s place, either. She’d pleaded, negotiated, and made promises. Over all her school years, nothing had worked. She was pretty certain her parents wouldn’t make an exception now.