Footsteps
Page 38
“She did,” he said finally, still regarding her with curiosity.
“And you just let her go like that?” Her voice was lowered, calmer.
“I didn’t have a choice. She wanted to.”
“She wanted to?”
“Yes, Sarah,” he said. “Just like you.”
At that, Sarah lowered her head. Her head moved forward in a nod, and she felt the relief sweep over her like a gentle wind. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God! She could have her life back. Her normal life.
“I thought you’d be happy.”
She looked at him with her forehead creased. “Happy?”
“Yes,” he said, scratching at his beard. “I know you said it would be like trampling a heart, but—”
“It’s not like trampling a heart, Ismael. It is.”
“—I thought you’d at least be relieved, you know. That it’s all over.”
She nodded reflectively, dropping her gaze again. “And I am. I am.”
They were silent for a moment.
“Did she give a reason?”
“Not really,” he said with a sigh. “Except something about loving for your sister what you love for yourself.”
Sarah felt her heart drumming in her throat. Allah was Merciful. Allah was Merciful indeed. “How did she seem?”
“You mean her emotions?”
“Yes.”
Ismael was silent for so long that Sarah lifted her head to see if he had heard her. His eyes carried a distant expression, and she could see the hurt there. She looked away.
“She seemed okay, I guess.”
A pause.
“And you?”
There was a cough of laughter. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” She looked at him then. He shrugged and gazed at her, a flirting grin tugging at his lips.
“Couldn’t be better.”
She smiled at him, feeling in that moment all the years they’d been together. “Me too.”
Monday morning Alika stayed in bed all day. She had class but she wouldn’t go. Not today. She didn’t have the strength.
Alika tried to keep from wallowing in self-pity for what she had done, but she couldn’t. Inside she knew it was the right decision. If she were Sarah, she’d want someone to have done the same for her—and wished someone had. For her mother.
But still, it didn’t seem fair.
Alika knew it would be too much to say she loved Ismael, but she also knew it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was far beyond mere infatuation or attachment. He felt like a part of her, like they’d known each other all her life. He’d said the same about her.
O Allah, what have I done?
She thought of her mother and relaxed. If only her mother could be Sarah right then.
But what of her brothers and sisters? If she erased her stepmother, she would erase them.
Just like when she erased herself from Ismael’s life, she couldn’t have measured what it would cost her.
He would go on, reunite with his wife. His first wife. Alika wanted him to be happy. That was more important than her own happiness.
Alika smiled wryly. She imagined he and Sarah must have had some reunion.
What to do? What to do?
She sat up, deciding to take a shower. She turned the radio on to drown out her thoughts. “I know I’ll never love this way again,” Dionne Warwick sang, “so I’ll keep holding on before the good is gone.” She hit the off button. Bad idea. Her thoughts would have to do.
She started to hum and snapped the fingers of one hand as she opened the linen closet in the hall with the other. “Celebration, time. Come on!” She tugged at a towel, and the entire stack fell on her head.
“Crap!”
Alika groaned as she stared at the pile of towels in the hallway. Too irritated to pick them up right then, she stepped over the pile and tucked under her arm the one she had pulled, and went to shower.
She had just finished dressing and rubbing her hair dry when she heard a knock at the door. Her heart beat in excitement. Maybe this was her chance to patch things up with Ismael. If he asked her back, she would pout, pretend to think about it, and say, “Yes, but only if…” Only if what? She had no conditions. Her real answer would be yes. Yes, yes, yes!
Grinning, she opened the door, and her heart fell. And she couldn’t help that her grin had faded into a grim look of disappointment by the time she returned Sarah’s greeting.
Sarah glanced around the condo as Alika clanked dishes in the kitchen, unable to escape the tinge of jealousy she felt at Alika’s youthful beauty. It was a cozy apartment, Sarah noticed, and a very nice neighborhood. She imagined that Alika’s family lived comfortably to be able to purchase, or even rent, a place like this.
Alika’s smile was forced as she placed the tray of drinks and snack foods before Sarah, and Sarah smiled, unable to keep her expression from looking forced too.
“I’m sorry to drop by like this,” Sarah said. “But I was passing through, and I took the chance that you’d be home.”
Alika’s smile turned to pursed lips and she was visibly trying to remain polite. She linked her fingers and leaned forward with her elbows on her lap.
“Ismael told me…,” Sarah said, “you know.”
Alika looked at Sarah. “No, I don’t know.”
“About what happened.”
Alika turned away again, her eyes in deep thought, and Sarah sensed how difficult this was for Alika. She saw Alika move her head forward in a nod.
“And I just wanted to drop by and thank you.” She laughed uncomfortably. “And apologize because I never got around to calling.”
There was a long pause, and Sarah watched as Alika drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “It’s okay.” Alika’s voice was soft and measured, kind even. But she had that same distant look of sadness that Ismael had so unsuccessfully tried to mask.
“Really?”
She met Sarah’s gaze with a pleasant attempt at a smile. “Yes.”
They were silent momentarily. “But why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Call it off?”
Alika closed her eyes and sat up, leaning back on the couch. She brought a hand to her eyes and rubbed them with her palm and fingers before letting her hand fall to her lap. “I didn’t want to be the cause of someone else’s pain.”
Sarah stared curiously at Alika, and she was shocked to see the sincerity in the woman’s eyes as she stared off into the distance. Sarah didn’t know what to say, unable to measure the weight of her husband’s loss in losing someone like Alika.
“My father married another woman when I was young,” Alika said, her forehead creased in deep thought. “And I remember my mother.” She drew in a deep breath and shook her head as if the story were pointless. “Well, I didn’t want to be responsible for anything like that.”
Sarah furrowed her brows and twisted at the ring on her finger. “Your father was married to two women?”
“Yes.” Alika sounded tired, drained.
“What religion was he?”
“Christian, I guess. But that had nothing to do with it.”
Sarah nodded, speechless. She didn’t know what was okay to ask, but she couldn’t escape the curiosity. “Was that hard for you?”
Alika shrugged. “I guess. But then again, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Having to hide it was harder than living it. It was just my life. It was all I knew.”
“You had to hide it?”
Alika shook her head. “We live in America. It’s illegal here.”
Sarah nodded, understanding, even as she sensed the sarcasm of Alika’s words.
“And plus, even if it wasn’t, nobody would understand.”
She studied Alika, respecting her more, understanding the strength the struggle must have given her. “He’s still married to them both?”
“Yes.”
“Children?”
“Yes.”
“But my stepmother is in Nigeria, so it doesn’t matter.”
Sarah shook her head, amazed at how little you really knew of someone upon meeting them. She would never have guessed that behind the beauty and smiles was this pain, this secret.
“You didn’t feel betrayed?”
Alika was silent, and Sarah thought she had offended her.
“I did sometimes.” Alika sighed. “But my mother told me not to blame him.”
Sarah’s brows gathered in surprise. “She did?”
“She said he was a man, and I’d understand one day.”
Sarah was silent.
“When did you find out about your father?”
“When I was about five, but I don’t think I really understood until I was ten.”
“And your mother?”
“A little after that.”
“How did she handle it?”
Alika shrugged. “She loved my father. What could she do?”
Sarah didn’t know what to say.
“She didn’t stay because she wanted to,” Alika said, looking at Sarah just then. “She stayed because she had no reason to go.”
That night when Sarah emerged from the bathroom after taking a shower, Ismael was sitting up in bed with his back on a pillow against the headboard. His arms were crossed and a distant look of sadness was in his eyes, and he looked as if he had been crying. But his cheeks were dry.
“Is everything okay?” Sarah asked, toweling her hair.
“Sarah,” he said, and the sound of his voice made her heartbeat quicken. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She creased her forehead in concern and sat on the edge of the bed facing him, laying the towel over her lap. “What?”
“When you were gone, Alika….” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, trying to gather the words. Sarah’s heart hammered in fear. “She found my mother.”
Sarah exhaled in relief, expecting the news to be horrible. “That’s good. Alhamdulillaah.” Sarah smiled, reaching to put a hand on the blanket that covered his leg. “Where is she?”
Ismael looked at Sarah with a look so distant and gloomy that it scared her. “She’s dead.”
Sarah felt as if someone had punched her. “What?”
“She’s dead.” He turned away from her, resuming his distant look.
“Since when?”
“September thirteenth.”
Sarah’s heart sank as she realized the day, the same day she’d left. “Are you sure?”
“Alika hired a private investigator, and I talked to her myself.”
“A private investigator? Why?”
“She didn’t tell me at first. But we’d been talking about our parents, and I was saying how I really missed my mother and wanted to see her.”
Sarah nodded, feeling the pain her husband must feel, and the jealousy and regret for not being there.
“Alika said she’d help me find her.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think anything of it. But I called my aunt, but she didn’t know anything.” He breathed. “So next thing I know Alika says she has someone she wants me to talk to.”
“You met the investigator?”
He shook his head. “On the phone.”
“But where did she find this person?”
“It’s the same one her mother uses.”
“Her mother?”
“Her mother’s parents disowned her after she married a dark-skinned man, and—”
“What?”
“They were passing for White, and…” He shook his head. “Never mind. What’s important is that Alika’s mother keeps up with them through this investigator.”
Sarah nodded, feeling sad all of a sudden.
“So I talk to the investigator and she tells me everything.” His nose flared slightly and he looked at his wife, his eyes watery and red.
“And it turns out she never forgot me.”
Sarah studied his expression and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Sarah, she had three other children after me.” Sarah listened, her brows creasing in empathy. “And she left me everything.”
Her eyes widened as sadness overwhelmed her. “Everything?”
“All she had.”
“You mean in a will?”
“Yes.” He dropped his head now and rubbed his eyes. Sarah looked away.
“Her children didn’t know about me until they saw the will.” His eyes filled.
“Remember how I told you my aunt said my mother couldn’t remember her own name?”
“Yes.” Sarah nodded, remembering.
“It’s true.”
“Then how did she dictate the will?”
“It was written over fifteen years ago.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say.
“Not only that,” he said, his voice shaking. “She forgot everything and everyone before she died.”
Sarah looked at him, knowing what he would say before he said it, hurting for him.
“Except me.” The tears slipped down his cheeks now. He rubbed them away, and Sarah looked away, unable to see her husband like this, tears slipping from her own eyes. “It’s the only name she said. My birth name.” He laughed, but it turned into a whimper. He covered his eyes momentarily. “She called everyone Ishmael. And they thought it was because she’d always read the Bible.”
Chapter Twenty
Aminah and Abdur-Rahman completed their written marriage contract during the last week of October so they would already be married while their parents planned the formal ceremony, which was scheduled for the first week in February after Eid al-Fitr. Once again, Sarah found herself planning a wedding. But this time it would be the ceremony and the walimah. Ismael volunteered to help, and did, and that kept them busy, their planning interrupted only by the approach of Ramadan.
The Muslims began their fasting on Tuesday, December 30th in 1997, and the following Friday Sarah hosted in her home the only iftaar she would plan or attend for the entire month of fasting. It was a deviation from her normal routine of planning and attending dinners, but she wanted this blessed month to herself. If it hadn’t been for her desire for Allah’s forgiveness, she would have hosted no dinner at all. She would have spent the entire month in seclusion, emerging from her home only to attend the night prayers in the masjid. But her compromise was hosting the dinner on the first day possible, thereby leaving her to herself and her Lord for the rest of the month.
The first guest arrived at five o’clock, and because Sarah was still in the kitchen, Aminah answered the door and directed the men to the living room and the women to the family room downstairs. Sarah was able to wave and greet the sisters as they passed through the kitchen. By the time the women broke their fasts and prayed and the men returned from the masjid to eat, everyone had arrived. Tamika, Faith, Alika, Maryam, Khadijah (and her two-month old daughter), and Nusaybah, who arrived with her daughter and co-wife, neither of whom Sarah had ever met. Zahra had called to say her family couldn’t make it, but on their way to their iftaar, they dropped off some food, for which Sarah was grateful.
After everyone had gotten their plates and settled in the family room, Nusaybah began the short talk that Sarah had asked her to give as a reminder to the sisters during this month. Nusaybah started by reciting the verse Allah had revealed concerning the month.
The month of Ramadan in which the Qur’an was revealed,
A guidance for mankind and clear proofs of guidance
and criterion (between right and wrong).
So whoever sights (the new moon) of the month, let him fast.
And whoever is ill or on a journey,
then an equal number of days (to be made up).
Allah intends for you ease and does not intend for you hardship
And wants for you to complete the period and glorify Allah
For that which He has guided you
And perhaps you
will be grateful
And when My servants ask you concerning Me,
indeed I am near. I respond to the invocation of
the supplicant when he calls upon Me.
So let them respond to Me and believe in Me
That they be rightly guided.
Nusaybah translated the meaning of the Arabic then said, “Today, I want to focus briefly on three points, Allah’s guidance, showing gratefulness to Him, and seeking His mercy and forgiveness through sincere repentance and constant supplication.”
Nusaybah explained the definition of Allah’s guidance and the magnificent blessing it was to be guided upon the truth. She recited verses and relayed stories of guidance and misguidance. Already the room was silent and eyes were filled with tears as each realized the magnitude of the gift that had been bestowed upon her when she said, “Laa ilaaha ill Allaah.”
Nusaybah talked about the significance of the testimony of faith beginning with a negation followed by an affirmation. “This means being pure, ridding ourselves of all opinions, baggage, and foreign beliefs when we stand before our Lord to bear witness that we will give our hearts and lives to Him. Only after we purify ourselves of everything within us, even what we count as harmless or good, do we affirm that nothing has the right to be worshipped but Allah alone.”
She explained, “Had we begun with the affirmation of His right to be worshipped then negated whatever opposed it, it would be akin to pouring milk into a glass that held an impurity, then before drinking, we seek to purify the milk.” She paused. “It will never be pure, and you would never drink it.”
She looked at each of the sisters, a gentle yet firm determination in her eyes as she scanned those before her. “You are guided, each of you. This in itself is a tremendous blessing that our human minds can only begin to comprehend. The difference between lightness and darkness. The difference between sight and blindness. The difference between hearing and deafness.” She added, “The difference between life and death. Life and death.”