Ghady & Rawan

by Fatima Sharafeddine

  Rawan’s dad starts talking, his words directed at his wife. “First of all, I want to apologize for how I’ve been acting lately. I’ve been irritable and losing my temper for no reason. There is something I tried to hide from you all, but I’m going to come clean now, which will be better for all of us. Because of the economic crisis, the company I work for lost a lot of money, and the administration decided to lay off a number of employees. They started with some of the older employees who had larger salaries. Unfortunately, I was one of them, and it hasn’t been easy for me to swallow.” He falls silent for a few moments, then adds sadly, “In other words, I’ve been unemployed for a while, and we’re going to go through a rough patch where we’ll have to curb our spending until I can get a handle on things. I need your help and support.”

  Rawan’s mother moves closer to her husband and hugs him while blaming him for not telling her everything from the start. Rani does the same and promises his dad to be more careful with his allowance and to not keep asking for stuff after today. He even promises to search for a job that will cover his expenses. As for Rawan, to everyone’s utter surprise, she starts jumping for joy, waving her hands around while looking up and shouting, “Thank you God, thank you, thank you! I’ll be a better person, I’ll help the poor, thank you, THANK YOU.” She then hugs her parents, tears streaming out of her eyes. Of course they’re not tears of sadness.

  Back in her room, Rawan logs onto her email. Nothing from Ghady. She writes a few words.

  Thursday, February 19, 2009

  Ghady, where are you? I didn’t get any answer to my last two emails. Are you okay, Belgian Waffle? Have you drowned in the rain over there? Ha! I’m only writing to let you know that today is the happiest day of my life. I won’t tell you any more for now . . . this is the new Rawan way of keeping you on the edge of your seat.

  Stop being so lazy and write!

  Happy Rawan

  That night, Rawan sleeps as though she hasn’t slept for a long time. Happy and calm, she thinks, It doesn’t matter if we don’t have money. The most important thing is that we stick together as a family. I’m so happy. Thank you, God.

  GHADY’S DECISION

  ONCE SCHOOL IS OVER, Ghady goes to the front gate to wait for his mom. There, he sees his sister waving and calling to him: “Ghady, wait. Tell me everything! Now. Everything.” When Zeina gets close enough, she whispers, breathing hard. “Everybody is talking about the fight. What happened? Who started it?”

  “I’ll tell you at home. And don’t mention it in front of Mom . . . There she is.”

  But as soon as his mom catches sight of him, she yells. “What are those scratches on your cheek? And why are your clothes so dirty?” The car starts off toward home, but Ghady doesn’t say anything. Then, in a barely audible voice, he says, “It was just a little fight, Mom. Don’t worry about it.”

  “And since when do you get into fights?” his mom asks. “What happened?” Her anxiety is showing, and she moves twitchily as she drives.

  “Nothing,” he says in a faint voice. Then unwanted tears start flowing from his eyes.

  “Leave it, Mama,” Zeina cuts in. “We’ll talk at home.”

  Ghady’s mom and dad listen as he tells them what happened at school. He repeats what he told the principal. He doesn’t say anything about how Michael pressured him to buy marijuana. He talks only about Michael’s racism and how he constantly provokes him.

  Ghady’s parents are flummoxed by what their son says about the fight. On the one hand, they’re proud of him—instead of running away from conflict, he defended himself against this bully. But on the other, they don’t think that problems can be solved with violence, and they don’t want to encourage him to use it. Ever. “It was nice of the principal to forgive you this time, Ghady. I hope this is the last time you get in a fight. There are always ways to solve things with words.”

  Ghady feels a sharp pang, as though a shout of laughter might force its way out if he doesn’t hold on tight. Solve it with words? he thinks, but he says nothing. What world are you living in, Dad? Don’t you know the laws of the playground are totally different from the world of your preachy advice?

  After his mom finishes tending to the scratches and red-and-blue marks all over his skin, Ghady retreats to his room and stretches out on his bed. While their mom is busy with dinner, Zeina takes the opportunity to slip into her brother’s room.

  “You have to tell Mom and Dad, Ghady. This is really dangerous—I know Michael’s friends, because one boy in my class is friends with him. They’re the ones who buy his weed. I mean, God knows where he’s getting it.”

  Ghady thinks Zeina’s right. Things are getting worse, and he doesn’t know what will happen after today’s fight, or what Michael has in mind. Michael is a kid who wouldn’t be afraid of doing something really serious. But now, Ghady’s exhausted.

  “Not tonight, Zeina. I’m really tired, and I still have English homework.”

  Once Ghady is alone, he turns on the computer and writes to Rawan.

  Wednesday, March 10, 2009.

  My dear friend,

  First, I want you to forgive me for taking such a long time to write back. You should know I haven’t changed. And don’t worry, I haven’t drowned in the rain or been buried under the snow. I’m still the same Ghady you’ve always known, except I’ve been really preoccupied. I don’t know what to do any more. I have news, but you won’t like it. I hope you won’t get mad or think bad things about me. You know I was having problems with some of the kids at school, right? And you know about bullying? That’s what this boy is doing to me . . . I can’t even stand to use his name. He’s been pressuring me to buy weed from him at school. He and his friends sell it to other kids. I refused to buy, so he poured all his anger out on me. I wasn’t afraid of him, and I stood up to him, but of course he didn’t like that . . . which led to this intense fight today. But don’t worry about me. Yours truly is pretty strong and muscular.☺ Some scratches and bruises that will fade is all.

  Zeina says I should tell my dad, but I’m not sure. My parents might be tempted to get involved, and, if they do, it will probably make things even worse. What do you think? I know you have enough problems, but you’re my best friend, and I can’t hide this from you any longer. And by the way, why are you so happy, my dear friend? Is it because of your secret admirer? Did you find out who he is? Is it someone in your class? Come on, tell me!☺ Do you still want my opinion?

  Yours,

  Ghady

  In the morning, Ghady goes to school, one step forward and ten steps back, as the saying goes. The first thing he notices is Michael, together with Andy, Thomas, Larry, and Sam. They’re whispering. Pointing at him. Throwing looks at him. The harshest glances come from Michael. It makes Ghady even more nervous. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but he can feel the pulse of danger.

  A NEW DAY

  RAWAN OPENS HER eyes in the morning and scans her whole room, smiling. She stares at the stuff in there as if she’s seeing it all for the first time. She feels a great joy flood her heart. Before, the intense worry had blinded her, so she couldn’t really see what was in front of her. She’d forgotten what her favorite things looked like—her curtains that were a color she’d picked out herself or the plant on her windowsill that had grown and sprouted leaves. Kumari must have been watering it.

  In her mind, Rawan returns to how things were before and feels as though she’d been living a nightmare. For a moment, she freezes. A crazy idea takes shape in her head. Could what her dad told them yesterday be a dream? The family meeting that washed away her worry—did it really happen? Rawan jumps up from her bed in terror, runs towards the door and quietly opens it. She peeks out through the crack in the door, looking towards the living room. She sees her parents drinking coffee, chatting, their faces peaceful and at ease. She closes the door and grins widely. She says to herself, Thank God, it wasn’t a dream, it’s real. Things are back to the way they were. Now I can foc
us on school and on figuring out who this mysterious secret admirer is.

  Rawan gets dressed, softly singing the lyrics to an old song her grandma always repeated when she was happy, “Life is sweet, we’ve just got to live it . . .” She misses her grandma so much. She will visit her soon.

  Rawan walks into the schoolyard, her steps light and quick, as if she’s hopping. She heads towards the meeting spot with her friends and shouts, smiling, “Good morning, best friends ever! I’ve missed you all so much.” Noor’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised. Her gaze meets Rawan’s, and she sees Rawan smiling at her. Noor seems astonished, wondering about the reason for this sudden change. Raed looks at Rawan and is taken aback as well. The Rawan in front of him today isn’t the Rawan of yesterday. “Don’t you guys see that someone who’s been missing for a long time has finally come back?” he asks.

  “For surrre . . . . we see that,” they all respond.

  “Don’t be so hard on me, Raed. You guys, come on,” Rawan says. “I was here all along, I’ve just gotten better lately. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Totally, but you weren’t the Rawan we know. The worrywart Rawan was with us,” Raed says. “The gloomy Rawan.”

  “The negative and desperate Rawan, a real drama queen in every sense of the word,” Maya adds.

  “The boring and annoying Rawan,” Karen chips in. Rawan looks expectantly at Noor, ready to hear her two cents, but Noor doesn’t say anything and is just content with a smile.

  Laughing, Rawan says, “And who told you guys that Rawan is gone? She’s still in the building. I can still annoy you all, my best friends ever! Today, I’m the happiest person in the world. I’m happy . . . . so happy.” She runs and flaps her arms over and over as if she’s flying. “Happy . . . . so happy . . . . HAPPPPYYYY.” Her movements catch the attention of the other students, as well as the principal, who looks surprised and can’t hold back a chuckle.

  That day, Rawan feels energy surge through her veins. In class, she takes part in activities and makes her usual witty comments. In P.E., she jumps, runs, dives for the volleyball, and sends it back with such energy that the P.E. teacher says, “Wow, Rawan, what happened to you? You remind me of Popeye when he eats his spinach. Where is this power coming from? Welcome to the Rawan who never gets tired!”

  During the first break, Rawan presents her friends with juice and mana’eesh to celebrate her new state of being. She also gives a piece of mana’eesh and a juice box to Husam, who she happens to come across in the schoolyard.

  Husam is surprised. “What’s the occasion, my friend?”

  “A new compensation for the accident,” Rawan jokes. “Have you already forgotten?”

  “Awesome. I wish I could crash into you every day so you’d surprise me with your tasty compensations.”

  It’s got to be him who’s been sending me all those gifts. But what is he waiting for? When will he tell me? She moves away from him, distracted, making her way back to her friends under the oak tree.

  “Thanks for the food, even though your transformation is worth a bigger meal, say a pizza for example, or a hamburger, or, at the very least, peas and rice,” Maya suggests. Everyone laughs.

  “I’ll make sure to do that and to invite you all as soon as possible to a delicious lunch. But right now, I need to save money. It’s all about taqasshuf.”

  “What does taqaffush even mean?” Karen asks. “It’s the first time I’ve ever heard of it.”

  Raed guffaws, putting on his best French accent. “But of course, Mademoiselle Karen, your mother is zhe French, and your Arabic is zhe broken! Taqasshuf means belt-tightening, to keep an eye on your money, you know?” Karen giggles as she repeats, “Taq . . . shuf . . . Taqasshuf.”

  Rawan tells her friends about her dad. She stretches the truth a little by saying that he chose to leave his job, which is why she has to keep an eye on her spending. Until he finds a new job, she can’t ask him for money.

  “Oh, that must be so tough!” Maya laments. “To look after your money. I always just ask my mom for money and she gives me whatever I want.”

  “I’m the opposite, actually,” Raed counters. “I always save some money from my allowance, because I rarely eat out. Like my mom says, everything tastes better at home. Don’t get upset now, Rawan. Yes, I ate all the mana’eesh you gave us and drank the juice. But the ones my mom makes smell so much better, and fresh orange juice is healthier. Today, I sacrificed my butter and apricot sandwich for your sake, my friend.”

  Karen interrupts, saying that her cousin works in a supermarket near their house in France during the holidays to make extra money. She says most people their age make money by doings small jobs like cutting grass, babysitting, tutoring, or even delivering newspapers in the early morning.

  “Me? Work in a supermarket?” Noor asks. “I could never do such a thing. Or take care of naughty children, or work in a garden? No, no, I’ll never do such things, and I hope I’m never forced to do them in my life.”

  “I actually like working. I always help my dad out in the garden at our cabin in the mountains,” Raed says. On it goes, back and forth, until the bell rings, announcing the start of classes once again. Rawan decides to think of a way to make her own allowance. She likes what Karen said. What’s wrong with me doing a job suited to my age and getting some cash for it? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

  On her way home, she approaches an old woman who stands on the street corner every day, selling gum and other sweets. This woman is always standing in the same place with a sad look in her eyes. Today, Rawan decides to give her some money. She puts her hand in her pocket and takes out all her change, putting it in the old woman’s box and saying, “Here you go. I hope this small amount is enough for you to buy a meal today.”

  The old woman looks at Rawan and says, “May God protect you from poverty, my girl. May God brighten all your days, just as you’ve lit up mine.” Rawan goes on walking, the woman’s prayer following her. Poor woman. A woman of her age should be resting, getting everything she needs without being forced to stand on the street corner.

  Rawan continues on her way home, feeling lighter, with a smile on her face. What’s happened in the last few weeks has changed her, helping her see things from a new perspective.

  UNSAFE AT SCHOOL

  MICHAEL IS SURROUNDED by all these boys, but who are Ghady’s friends? Daniel, who lives in the world of novels, and Charlotte and Liza, who he wouldn’t want to involve in the showdown with Michael. And Matthias. Matthias . . . Ghady looks around in search of Matthias. Sees him. He’s playing basketball. Ghady waits until Michael and his group lose interest in him for a second, their attention flickering off. Then he heads over. He whispers to Matthias, whose body jumps.

  “Come with me. Now. We’re going to the principal’s office. We have to tell her everything.”

  “You’re crazy,” Matthias whispers. “What if one of them sees us? That will be the end of us.”

  “You have to come with me.” Sweat is making hair clump around Ghady’s face in ringlets, even though it’s cold, and a light snow has started to fall.

  “But one of them could see us,” Matthias says. “Then we’d be in even worse trouble.”

  “Yeah, we’re already in trouble. Come on, let’s not waste time.”

  Ghady waits a few seconds while Matthias is making up his mind. “Are you coming with me or am I going alone?”

  Matthias hesitates a few seconds. “I’m coming.”

  As soon as Ghady and Matthias step into the principal’s office, the situation feels very serious, especially after yesterday’s fight. She asks them to come in, and she listens to everything they have to tell her. Ghady gives details of the boys’ threats, and Matthias explains how he caved under their constant pressure.

  “I’m worried,” Ghady says, finishing up. “And I don’t feel safe at school.”

  “Write me a list of the students’ names,” the principal says, “and we’ll call all of them in.”


  Before Ghady walks out of the office with Matthias, he turns and tells her: “Please don’t tell them we were the ones who said something.”

  “Don’t worry, Ghady. I promise. I won’t mention your name, ever.”

  But oh, their luck . . . ! Just as they come out, they spot Larry. They dash to hide themselves, but he already heard everything from behind the office door.

  “See Ghady?” Matthias whispers in a shaky voice. “I was sure they were watching us. What are we going to do now? Why did I let you drag me in here?”

  “Don’t be scared. We can’t let them think we’re weak and afraid. Let’s go to class. The period’s started.”

  On the playground, just as Ghady expects, Michael’s friend Sam comes up to him. “Walk with me. Michael wants a word with you. In the same place, behind the building.”

  Ghady doesn’t want to look scared in front of Michael or his group, so he goes with Sam. But there, behind the building, he sees a much bigger group than the one that usually surrounds Michael. He even sees kids from eleventh grade, from his sister Zeina’s class. As Ghady gets closer, his stubborn feet refuse to move any farther. When he’s just a short way off, the oldest and biggest boy swoops in. He pushes down Ghady’s head, wraps an arm around his neck, and tightens his grip with all his strength. The boys around him call out in encouragement.

  “Teach him a lesson!”

  “He’s got to learn not to snitch.”

  “I’ll break your nose and teeth,” the tall, broad-shouldered boy says. “But not at school.”

  Ghady tries to pull free of the boy’s savage grip, but he isn’t strong enough. Then he hears a voice. “Look. My friend Frank’s ready at any moment. There is definitely going to be hell to pay. But go now, and think about this lesson of the teeth and the nose.”