The Name of Red

by Beena Khan

  Kabir looked at Elif again. He breathed deeply before answering, “He’s the reason I’m claustrophobic.”

  “You were mean to Kabir?” Elif said sharply to Faizan.

  Faizan shrugged, “It was a long time ago man, people change.”

  He took deep breaths to calm his anxiety. “It’s not just because of the high school mess. You know what else you did in the past three years. You slept with my fia—” then he stopped talking when he realized Elif was still present.

  Kabir tried to calm his emotions down and looked away from Faizan.

  This asshole is the reason why Kabir is claustrophobic, Elif realized.

  Elif’s expression saddened at Kabir's statements. She pulled away from Kabir before staring angrily at Faizan.

  “You’re a piece of shit,” she said fiercely.

  Then she doubled over and vomited on Faizan and his navy blue suit.

  ❖

  Faizan had sped away in his car disgusted at the vomit on him.

  Elif had vomited twice on Faizan, spraying everything around her including her clothes. Kabir was unable to control his laughter. He hadn’t laughed like this for a long time.

  She turned toward him. “What did that guy do in high school?”

  Kabir momentarily stopped laughing. “He wasn’t a nice guy back then. He used to bully me in high school with his friends,” he replied. “Those things can be forgivable but he’s done even worse things,” he continued saying under his breath so Elif couldn’t hear him.

  “Did you ever get revenge on that asshole?” Elif asked, wiping her mouth. He passed her the tissues that he carried with him.

  He smiled widely. “I think what I just saw was a pretty sweet revenge.”

  She grinned up at him, her eyes twinkling.

  Kabir helped clean her up and wiped the vomit from her hair. She was a mess, drunk, kind of gross, and there was vomit still on her, but she was still precious to him.

  Chapter 14

  Kabir and Elif developed a protective bond over the next few weeks. He always dropped her home after a night of drinking, and he made sure she was fed.

  She drank more than she ate.

  He wasn't fond of her drinking since she drank past her limit and crashed on the floor often. She seemed unstoppable at times. Sometimes, he had to tell Aryan to stop making her drinks.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re always drinking. It’s not right,” he said to Elif.

  He didn't want to offend her, but Elif almost heard the unspoken word—sin—come out from his mouth. Elif observed him coolly. She looked at his tattoo, the Marlboros in his pants pocket, and the bar that he owned full of alcohol.

  “Takes one to know one,” she said with a grim smile and arched her eyebrows to his bar.

  “I’m not judging you, Red. I’m saying you’re hurting your body by always drinking alcohol. If you drink, it should be in moderation,” he said softly.

  “Moderation?” she questioned him.

  Moderation wasn't a word that existed in her life.

  He was silent as if waiting for her to continue.

  “I can’t drink in moderation. Moderation doesn’t help me,” she said.

  “Help you with what?” he asked.

  After a few moments of silence, she spoke. “Can I tell you a story?” Elif asked him.

  Kabir gazed at her and nodded.

  She put her drink down and folded her hands on the table, and said, “The prophet Mohammad, peace be upon him, once said, ‘A dog was around a well. The dog was about to die of thirst but a prostitute from Israeli descent saw the dog,’” Elif turned toward Kabir who looked intrigued.

  “Then what happened?” he asked, resting his hand on his chin.

  “She took off her shoe, filled it with water and fed the dog. Allah forgave her sins because of one good deed.”

  Elif was fond of the prophet and his tales of forgiving others.

  Kabir returned her smile, and asked softly, “It’s a beautiful tale. You think your actions are similar to the acts of this prostitute?”

  “No,” she answered. “I’m saying people sin in different ways, but it doesn’t mean they’re evil or corrupt.”

  “I own a bar, I earn money by serving booze,” he said.

  “Yes, and you have tattoos. You smoke.”

  “You’re a drunk,” he commented. “You wear short dresses.”

  She nodded.

  “After hours, you help the homeless woman outside and give her money. You always buy her dinner. You secretly donate to a charity in Pakistan,” Elif commented.

  Kabir’s eyebrows shot up. “How did you know?” he asked.

  She hid a smile as she turned away from him. She looked at Aryan across the bar who was tending to others.

  Of course, Kabir thought, shaking his head. Gossip queens.

  “I donate the money from the restaurant's share to Pakistan, not the bar’s. There are people who would feel betrayed knowing the money came from selling alcohol. Apparently, it is not halal money,” he said softly.

  Elif turned toward him, and he saw a new respect in her eyes for him.

  “Nobody works in a bar because they like alcohol. Nobody is a prostitute because they like sex. I don’t drink to sin, nor do I drink because I like the taste of alcohol. I drink—” she hesitated before continuing, “I drink because I like the feeling of numbness, of not feeling anything at all,” Elif confessed, her voice low.

  So she doesn’t drink for fun, he realized.

  Elif glanced at him and she noted his eyes were filled with wonder. She could tell he wanted to ask her more but knowing him, he wouldn’t intrude.

  Silence speaks a thousand words, she thought.

  A melancholy mood hung over Elif’s head like a dark, black cloud as numbness creeped into her brain. The numbness was so strong from drinking too much, and the rush was in her head.

  Her grief had settled so deeply into her heart that she was unable to talk about it, even though it had been two years.

  Even when she was alone, and time had passed, she couldn’t talk. She refused to cry about it, especially in front of Kabir. She didn't want to appear weak, but she still felt alone and helpless.

  Like every day for the past two years.

  Kabir had a hundred questions on his tongue, but he hesitated to speak.

  He didn’t know how much she was willing to share.

  Kabir noticed how Elif changed her mood again, as if the numbness and grief she felt a moment ago no longer existed. There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, and it was too late to ask Elif now. The emotions disappeared from her face so quickly, and she began chatting to him about the bar’s interior design.

  He felt her disconnect from him.

  He wanted Elif to open up to him but on her own terms.

  Chapter 15

  A new woman was at the bar, and Elif watched as she was flirting with Aryan. She looked fascinated as she sipped her drink, since she had nothing better to do anyway.

  The woman was cute, in a young college girl kind of way. Her red hair was down, and her green eyes sparkled at Aryan as she spoke. She was wearing blue jeans with a white button down shirt.

  “So you bartend here?” the woman asked Aryan.

  He nodded his head yes.

  “I’m Leena. What is your name?”

  “Aryan,” he replied.

  “If I come here often, could you get me free drinks?” she teased.

  Aryan smirked. “I’ll lose my job then.”

  “I’m sure your boss will forgive you.”

  Aryan remained silent, disinterested, as he served a drink to another customer. She watched Leena lose her smile momentarily, before attempting to converse with him again.

  “How long have you been bartending?”

  “Almost two years,” Aryan replied shortly. Elif saw Leena was frustrated, and she almost felt bad for the woman.

  “So are you seeing anyone?” Leena asked.

&n
bsp; Aryan shook his head no.

  “Do you want to?”

  Again, Aryan shook his head no.

  Elif covered her mouth when she felt a smile form on her lips. She was having too much fun watching this scene unfold.

  “You have nice eyes,” Leena commented.

  Aryan glanced up at her. “Thanks,” he said shortly.

  Leena let out a frustrated sigh.

  “I’m leaving. You haven’t even asked for my number, and I’m wasting my time. You’re not even that cute.” Leena said before dropping a twenty, and leaving the restaurant.

  Elif stared after the woman, laughing. She covered her mouth with her hand as she took in Aryan’s baffled expression.

  “Why does she expect you to ask for her number?” Elif questioned.

  Aryan shrugged. “High gentleman standards.”

  Elif smiled. “You could have tried to talk, you know.”

  “Say’s the person who doesn’t talk to any of the guys herself.”

  She grinned this time. “See, we understand each other.”

  “Who was the girl you loved?” she asked bluntly.

  Aryan glanced at her, his eyebrows raised before turning back to face the drink he was making, “Who’s the guy you loved?”

  Elif lost the smile she had and looked away. Aryan chuckled at her baffled expression now. “I noticed the ring you always wear.” He nodded at her neck.

  She was mute now.

  “For someone who likes to think she’s tough, you’re kinda weak,” Aryan observed.

  Elif narrowed her eyes at him and quickly downed her drink.

  “I want another drink,” she demanded. Aryan served her another drink, and she finished that one and the next. She noticed Aryan had a look of regret on his face.

  Too late.

  By the end of the night, Elif was drunk, yet again.

  Aryan stopped serving her drinks after her twelfth.

  She didn't speak with Aryan for the remainder of the night. She was upset at his judgmental comments and refused to admit he was right. She moved away from her seat and paid her tab to Aryan.

  “You’re very drunk. Let me take you home,” he said.

  Elif noticed it wasn’t a question.

  She dismissed him with her hand as she grabbed her bag and began to walk away. She didn’t make it far because she fell to the ground. Her limbs felt loose, and she was wobbling. She felt her dress rise up, exposing her thighs further.

  She smiled bitterly, as she was sure the people behind her loved the view. Suddenly, a shadow fell on the floor, and she felt someone behind her. She glanced backward, still on the floor. It was Aryan who left the bar and hovered over her with a sad expression.

  “It’s time to close up. Here, I’ll help you up,” he said. He leaned down to lift her up by the shoulders, but she smacked his hands away.

  He was surprised but didn’t let go of her shoulders. “Let me help, Elif,” he demanded, but she still smacked his hands away.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear almost hissing, “I’m not Kabir you can push away. I’m fucking, Aryan. Your ass is in the air, and everyone is watching you. Let me take you home.”

  Elif looked up at him with her hazy eyes, surprised. She felt so sleepy and tired. His eyes were regretful yet fiercely protective at the same time. With a sigh, she nodded.

  Defeated, she let Aryan guide her back to the bar stool, and he told everyone they were closed for the night. Elif watched as the men leaving leered at her and stared at her legs. She was sitting open legged on the stool without realization. She felt uncomfortable under their humiliating gaze, but she refused to close her legs.

  These are my legs, assholes. I will do whatever the hell I want with them. You have no problem sitting like your balls are the size of watermelons.

  The four servers around the place prepared to clean the restaurant and they left afterward. Soon, the place was empty, and Aryan locked the front door so no one else could come in.

  “Where’s Kabir today? I haven’t seen him the whole day,” she asked, furrowing her brows.

  “He’s running errands. Today is his day off,” Aryan replied.

  Oh.

  “You’re mean. I miss Kabir,” she complained.

  Aryan rolled his eyes at her as he wiped the bar down.

  “Suck it up, rich girl,” he replied.

  Elif stared at him in amusement. “You’re very different from Kabir.”

  “Obviously. He’s too polite.”

  “You have a potty mouth,” she said.

  He turned his head toward her. “Again obviously, I was a hobo. I lived in potty. Should I clean my mouth with soap?”

  Elif felt a laugh bubbling up inside her, but she refused to let it rise. “That’s a good idea.”

  Aryan had finished cleaning the bar, and it was time to go. She was still wobbling as she stood, and Aryan held her arm as she walked. She glanced at him sideways. He was focused on walking her outside safely.

  They were seated in the car. It was freezing, and she regretted her dress choices.

  “Can you turn on the heat?” she asked.

  He glanced toward her and looked at her low-cut teal dress that ended at her mid-thighs. “Who told you to prance around half-naked in the winter time?”

  “You’re judgmental,” she huffed out.

  “I don’t give a fuck if you wear short dresses, but really, Elif, in the winter time and in heels? It’s snowing. You don’t even wear a coat. You’re not even being sexy. You’re being stupid.”

  “I’m Canadian, I can adjust to the cold, and I thought you liked heels. That’s your kink,” she said her voice laced with amusement.

  He began to bang his head softly against the steering wheel, and Elif giggled at the sight.

  “You will get sick,” he warned.

  “Don’t tell me what’s good for me!” she huffed.

  Aryan turned toward her and leaned forward, one arm resting on the steering wheel.

  Elif cowered under his gaze.

  “You made us brothers, you made us family. The day you did that, I had no choice but to care about you. Now, shut up and wear my coat instead,” he commanded. He took off his coat and handed it to Elif angrily.

  She stared at him in mild shock and reluctantly put on the coat. It was heavy and warm against her cold skin. He asked for her address, and she gave it to him.

  Silence fell upon the car.

  She glanced at Aryan again.

  “You’re kind of scary,” she said.

  “I’m very straight forward,” he replied. “You find it weird because you’re talking to someone who’s like you.”

  She grinned. “Who was the girl you loved?” Elif asked again bluntly.

  Aryan sighed. He raised his eyebrows at her before turning back to face the road. “You know, you’re a nosy ass who’s always butting in people’s business, yet no one knows anything about you.”

  Elif found her smile again and grinned. His words didn’t hurt her this time, and she realized he meant well. “Thank you.”

  Aryan laughed, and then he was suddenly quiet.

  Elif thought he would say something else, so she remained silent.

  Aryan whispered, “Aanaah.” After a few minutes, he repeated, “Her name was Aanaah.”

  “Aaa-naah,” Elif echoed. “She has a beautiful name. It would be Anna if she was American. Islamic name pronunciations are different.”

  Aryan smiled. “She was a beautiful person herself.”

  “Where is she now?” she asked.

  Aryan was silent, after a minute, he replied, “Somewhere happy, I hope.”

  He said happy. He didn’t say safe. He cares about her happiness.

  Elif glanced at Aryan’s expression that was full of grief, a grief she could understand too well. He didn’t offer more information, and she didn’t ask him.

  Chapter 16

  When Elif walked into the room, Kabir’s whole world slowed down. She always ca
ught the attention of too many.

  He glanced at the woman who took most of his thoughts and daydreams and studied her with his brief gaze. Elif didn't flinch or withdraw from people, but neither did she step forward to be seen. Elif saw him approaching, and a wide smile appeared on her face.

  “Where were you yesterday, Kabir? I was stuck with grumpy Aryan over here the whole night,” she said pointing her chin in the direction of Aryan who looked at her with amusement.

  “I had things to do. I wanted to renovate the lounge more so I was looking for ideas.”

  “I have the color schemes ready,” she said.

  He tilted his head toward her, surprised. “Really?”

  She nodded fiercely and took out the final design from her bag. He gazed upon the work of art as he took it in. It was everything that she described. Everything that she had envisioned. He was surprised to see she accurately sketched it on canvas.

  A smile tugged the corner of his lips, as he took in the color scheme. Every corner was made out of glass except the couches. The couches’ handles were made out of glass too. Each table had its own set of colors based on the book genre they are in.

  “These designs are amazing,” he muttered under his breath. He raised his eyebrows to Aryan who peered at the designs too.

  Aryan whistled, “Damn.”

  Elif smiled at both of their reactions. “I think the color will make an impact on the customers. People will be drawn to the color and emotion they’re feeling. Like, if they feel happy, they’ll be drawn to the yellow corner. If they're in love, they’ll be drawn to the pink tables. “

  Kabir glanced at her. “You’re a genius,” he said in appreciation.

  She grinned. “I still recommend going to other bars.”

  Her eyes widened, and Kabir looked up at her in surprise. He was sure an idea was going off in her head. “Oh my god, we should go together. We could be undercover spies!”

  She was so excited, Kabir didn’t have the heart to say no to her. “Okay, when do you want to go?” he asked.

  She smiled mischievously at him. “Now.”