Author's Note: In the last chapter, Assef took Saria out for lunch. She bought herself a new kite with the money he gave to her, but was accosted by Farsef, a boy from the neighbourhood. Assef was quick to come to his sister's defence, and a brawl ensued that culminated in Farsef losing an ear. Now, as time has passed, we find Saria spending more time with her new friend, Adia...
Thank you to everyone who reads this story. I appreciate everyone who takes the time to look at what I've written. Please do feel free to get in contact if you wish to, though, of course, you don't have to. There is a lot to get through in this story, with many twists and turns along the way that I hope will be enjoyable and as fun for everybody else as they are for me.
I do not own The Kite Runner or any of its characters, plot points, etc. I'm just showcasing my love for it with this story that has given me such joy and meaning in my life.
Thank you again! And without further ado, please enjoy this next glimpse into Saria's mind.
Adia and I sat on her bed, across from one another. Despite it being a winter's day, it was still somewhat muggy and warm, so she'd opened the window to let a bit of air in. We'd both kicked our shoes off, and tossed them in a pile in the corner of her room. Normally, were this my own home, I would have made sure to place my shoes neatly in the closet, and ensure that any guests of mine had a place in which to put theirs, but this was not my home, and Adia seemed to care little for tidiness, so why should I? Now, here we were, Adia with her legs crossed underneath her, and I, tucking one foot under myself while the other dangled off the edge of the bed.
A few days or so had passed since the incident with Farsef. I can't be too sure on the exact date of these events, I am writing these memoirs years after the fact, after all. What I do know is that Mahmood and Tanya had long since returned from their business trip - wherever the hell that was. They'd both been in a good mood when they came back, which I took to mean that everything had run smoothly. That was good. Anything that made my parents happy and kept them from taking potential bad moods out on my brother or I was a welcome change, in my book.
The moment they'd come back, Mahmood had been adamant about contacting Javid and Faraya, to organise this little play-date between Adia and I. The man had barely dropped his suitcase in the front door before he was phoning up the Kalahari's. I remember leaning against the door to his study, eavesdropping on his conversation. Half of which I didn't quite understand - just some business related crap, none of which meant anything for me. It was only that I heard my name that I'd perked up, now intrigued, and more than a little apprehensive. What was he talking about me for? What had I done now? Had I done anything? I didn't think so, but God only knows with my father. His good mood could turn on a time. I remember the anxious feeling of trying to not get caught eavesdropping, while also desperately trying to learn what he was talking about, and what it could have to do with me.
Fortunately, though, Mahmood had only been asking if I could go up to the Kalahari's home for a few hours, to spend some time with Adia. They spoke back and forth, and after a little bit of organisation, the date had been set. This morning, I'd dressed in one of my clean, red-and-blue polka dot dresses, and been given the arduous task of sitting still while Tanya brushed my hair into pigtails and tied ribbons on either end. Yeah, yeah, I could have brushed my own hair, but today I would be spending time with guests, and heaven forbid that "mommy dearest" didn't make me look absolutely perfect.
Right before we'd gotten into the car, Tanya had knelt before me, hands on my own, and given me a lecture about how to behave. Be polite, eat the food given to you, offer to help whenever you can, and show your elders the respect that they deserve. The same bullshit, over and over. Every damn time, every time that I went anywhere, it was always the same. I had no choice but to nod along and promise her that I would "act in the way that I have been raised to". That had satisfied her, and she nodded to my father, who lead me out to the car and drove me the few streets to the Kalahari house.
Couldn't have me walk there by myself, could we? For one, it may have looked bad on my father's part to have his little girl walking alone to a friend's house - at least, without an older figure there with her. I almost wanted to ask if Assef could walk me over there, but I knew that the answer would be no. Mahmood's reasoning would no doubt be that he wanted to talk to the Kalahari's himself, and, though he wouldn't have said it, the underlying thought would be there: that Assef would have just taken me somewhere else and not bothered bringing me round to Adia's.
A fair assumption to make, no doubt, but we couldn't have that. Not when my friendship with the precocious child was of such importance to Mahmood and Tanya. They needed to keep the Kalahari's on-side, and what better way to do that than to have their socially inept daughter become friends with Javid and Faraya's sweet little girl? To some degree, I wondered if my friendship with Adia was as much of a game to them as it was for me? Was she naught but a pawn in all of our eyes, no more than a means to an end?
Still, cultivating friendships between the Ahmeds and the Kalaharis would only serve us all, in one way or another. Mahmood and Tanya had even tried to entice Assef into befriending Masood, dropping hints at tea time about how he should "invite that nice boy round for a game of volleyball". That hadn't gotten a reaction, aside from a raise of the eyebrows on my brother's part, so they'd next tried to oh-so-casually suggest that he might consider taking Masood with him when he spent time with Wali and Kamal, as though the boy was some unfortunate dog that Assef needed take for regular walks.
I'm sure that you can just imagine how brilliantly that conversation went. Lo, how sometimes I envied my Assef for his ability to so easily get our parents off of his back. The idea of him being friends with Masood was dropped before it even came to fruition, and now, it was I who faced the task of cultivating this relationship with Adia. Not that I minded... at least, not all that much. I did yearn to claim the girl as my own, after all.
"It won't fit!"
I was brought out of my thoughts by the voice of that same girl. Adia was groaning in frustration, holding aloft a piece of the jigsaw that we were attempting to complete. The puzzle was one of the local zoo in our area, with brightly coloured animals, lions, reptiles, zebras, monkeys - you name it, this had it. Adia's tiny fingers gripped the edges of a yellow puzzle piece, no doubt a lion's mane or something akin to that. She tried to force it into the hole, it didn't work. She tried again, it still didn't work. Her lips twisted in frustration.
The puzzle was one that was clearly meant for kids far younger than she and I. That was obvious from how large the pieces were, how shiny it was, and, the most glaring evidence, the perpetual looks of happiness on the animal's faces. Oh, and the fact that they were all locked in an embrace of some kind or another. My memories of actually visiting the zoo are hazy at best, but from what I do know, lions and zebras are not in the habit of cuddling up to one another. It was almost laughable how the creator of this little puzzle had thrown all sense and understanding about the animal kingdom out of the window, in order to enforce this false narrative into the minds of naive children.
Adia tried again to fit the puzzle piece into the right hole. She made a small, barely audible groan, and looked about ready to toss the whole jigsaw to the ground. Not that I would have blamed her, really. Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned down so that her nose was almost touching the board. "It won't fit," she repeated, "I'm trying to make it fit, Saria, but it just... it just keeps getting stuck. And we only have a few more pieces left to go, I-"
"Let me see that," I told her. She extended the piece out to me, and I took it from her, turning it over in my mind. Just as I suspected, the lion's mane. Up close, I could tell that the yellow was faded, and the paint had begun to be chipped away, but it was still easy to see what it was meant to be. I attempted to fit the piece into the slot that Adia had been looking at, but to no avail. I, being of superior intellect, was able to determine the cause of the problem with very little work.
I presented my findings to Adia. "Of course it's not working, silly, you're trying to fit it into the wrong hole." I gestured, holding the puzzle piece out for her to see. "The shades of yellow are different. Not... It's kinda hard to tell, exactly, but they are. I think this one goes..." A pause. My eyes darted from side to side, an attempt to find where this piece fit. "Ah, you see? It fits in here!" With that, I ceremoniously maneuvered the puzzle piece so that it was above the correct slot, and there, down it went, fitting like a glove.
The responding grin on Adia's face was edifying. She beamed at me with shimmering eyes of childlike gratitude. "Thank you, Saria," she said. "I always get stuck on that part, always. I'd never been able to figure out what the problem was. Thank you for helping me." For a second, it looked as though she were about to hug me, but she must have figured that would be a bad idea - and she probably didn't want to accidentally knock over the jigsaw by doing so. Still, her giddy smile was a clear example of how she felt in that moment.
Waving a dismissive hand, I shook off her thanks as though it was nothing. "Don't, don't even mention it. What's some help between friends, hmm?" She made a joyful, chirping noise when I called her my friend. It was almost like the noise a puppy makes when it sees its owner for the first time after work. The grin never left her face, and I contemplated the similarities between this puzzle and the friendship Adia and I were building.
Not only because of the image it was showing - though I did feel much like a deadly lion attempting to embrace a foolhardy zebra - but also because of what it, and my help to her, represented. Pieces coming together. Cracks being smoothed out. Much like this puzzle, Adia was cracked and broken. She was in desperate need of fixing, of someone to lift her up, restore the chipped paint, dedicate their energy and time into her. That was exactly what I intended on doing. When I was done with her, she would be as beautiful as this puzzle. Beautiful, obedient, devoted... and mine.
Adia stood from her bed. She placed her hands on either side of her hips and looked down at the now completed puzzle. "I'm gonna..." she began, tilting her head towards her study desk. "... put this over here."
I nodded, and she gingerly bent her knees so that she could lift the puzzle with ease. It wasn't heavy, per se, but her little frame shook as she carefully lifted it. Her tongue stuck out in concentration - she did not want this to fall. Not that I blamed her. I mean, much as I would have laughed if it had fallen to the ground, and messed up all of her hard work, part of that hard work was mine, too. And I did not want that gone to waste. I also did not want to have to redo the whole thing, which I knew Adia would have requested us to do if it fell apart.
Placing the jigsaw down onto her desk, Adia took a step back from it and looked down at our creation. She placed her clasped palms over her heart, bending her knees softly. "This is so beautiful," she whispered, the hint of a giggle eliciting from her lips. Her gaze remained fixated on the puzzle, looking it with an odd devotion in her eyes. "Thank you for helping me make it, Saria. It's even more special now, because I got to make it with a friend."
Her words took me aback. Had she really just said that? Had she really just said something so cheesy, a line that wouldn't have been out of place in a Hindi romance film? Did... was that how she saw me? Did she care that much for me already? I spluttered, unable to form a coherent response. Normally, I would've been able to formulate a reply easily, but I didn't know to respond to that. Did she want me to say something equally as charming? I quickly collected myself and extended a hand to Adia, beckoning her return to me.
"You're sweet to say that, Adia jan," I complimented. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned her head against mine, taking my hand and playing with my fingertips. I didn't know how to deal with this, but, on some level, I was aware that pushing her off of me would cause issues. So, I took a leaf from my brother's book and did what he always did when I wanted physical closeness. I squeezed her hand, wrapped my arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, with great tenderness and care. "I had a lot of fun making that, too. Thank you for giving me the chance to share this opportunity with you."
Adia gushed, cuddling up to me. "I love jigsaws," she said, happily. Her legs swung back and forth, she bounced up and down. "They're always such fun to make, and the pictures are so beautiful when they're completed. It's kinda like painting, 'cause you know what you're gonna get at the end but you still have to, to, work hard to make it happen." She lifted her head from off of my shoulder and giggled. "But this puzzle is extra special, you know why?" I didn't respond, but shrugged, a way of letting her know that I was still playing along with this little game. Adia leaned in to whisper into my ear. "'Cause my new friend Saria helped me make it."
The tone of her voice, the look in her eyes, the faint stutter that escaped as she spoke the words. They all reminded me of how those faithful religious people would act when they talked about God. There was a worshipful adoration to her speech, something that I had not ever heard in anyone's voice when speaking to me before. It was certainly not akin to how Assef and I spoke to each other - that was with unbridled, unadulterated, unconditional love, the love of equals, - but how Adia spoke of me was... it was almost as if she thought of me as a higher power. As if I were somebody for her to look up to, to want to emulate.
How... strange it was, to view myself through another's eyes. Adia saw me as her friend, someone to play with, someone to waste the lonely hours away with, someone upon who's shoulder she could cry when she needed it. Someone who was kind, good, fun and caring. How would she react if she knew my thoughts on her, I wondered? What would she think if the truth came out, that to me, Adia was but an experiment, my aim to twist and break her into obedience, through whatever means necessary?
But no, she wouldn't know that. It was like the Saria Ahmed that she knew and the Saria Ahmed that I truly was were two separate people, two souls fighting for dominance in the one body. Like my mask and my true self were completely different entities, and my mask was a tightrope of lies that I desperately sought with every footstep to remain on top of, because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt... that the truth was the only thing left to fall into.
I contemplated these thoughts, and more, when the door creaked open. My attention was drawn to Faraya, who stood in the door-frame with a motherly countenance. "Are you girls having fun?" she asked, her gaze focused on her daughter.
Adia nodded. "Oh yes, Mommy!" She got to her feet and took her mother by the hand, bringing her to the desk where the jigsaw puzzle we made rested. Her actions were strange to me; I would never in my life have thought to go dragging Tanya about like that, especially not when I had a guest round. I rather liked my freedom and not being lectured, thank you very much. But all Faraya did was laugh along with her daughter's antics and raise an exaggerated brow at me. Adia pointed to the jigsaw. "Look, Mommy! Look what we did!"
Faraya glanced down at the puzzle. She wrapped an arm around her daughter, hugging Adia to her side. "That's beautiful, my darling," she complimented. "I've been telling you to get that puzzle completed, and now you see why? What a beautiful picture." She then turned from Adia and looked at me, that same compassionate gaze in her eye. "And I'm guessing that Saria jan helped you, would I be correct in saying that?"
The question may not have been directed at me, I wasn't quite sure, but I decided to answer, regardless. I stood from the bed, dipping into a sweet curtsy. "Why yes, Khala Faraya. Adia and I made that together."
"Beautiful," Faraya repeated. She beckoned Adia and I towards the door. "Well, I just came up here to tell you both that lunch is ready, if you would like to wash up and come downstairs. Saria, I don't know if your parents are going to be making you dinner tonight, so I just made something light to tide you over before you go home." She smiled, extending a hand to me.
I made my way over to her. Shifting from one foot to the other, I decided to ask a question I knew my parents would expect from me. "Khala Faraya, I... Is there anything that I can do to help you?" I asked, "would you like me to lay the table, perhaps?" How ridiculous that I, a guest in this home, had to ask such questions. But that was what was expected of me. Tanya had told me to help out in any way I was told to, and to ask if I could "serve" the Kalahari's in any manner that they requested.
The irony here was that, if the roles were reversed and Adia had asked Tanya if she could help her, well, then, do you think I would have heard the end of it? No, no, I don't think so! Still, that was the hypocritical truth of my life, and there was little that I could do to prevent things from being the way they were. Faraya was a little taken aback by my statement. She reached out to place a tender hand on the back of my golden curls. "Oh, dear one, no. I have it all under control, you just come on down when you're washed up." She cupped the side of my face and looked down at me with a tender, loving gaze. "Thank you for offering to help, what a little darling you are."
With that, she turned and left the room. Adia trailed behind her, at her mother's heel. Faraya turned and beckoned her daughter into the washroom, gently chiding her to clean herself up. A giggle escaped from the child's lips and she disappeared into the washroom. I followed her, standing outside, waiting for my turn. When she was done, I slipped in after her, and cleaned my own hands and face, ensuring that I looked clean, pure, and perfect. Adia was waiting outside for me when I re-emerged, she took me by the hand and lead me down the stairs.
She was so eager to be with me, no matter what. We made our way into the kitchen, and Faraya gestured us into our seats. As I moved towards the table, I noticed something that gave me pause. Masood was sitting at the table, grinning at us. He waved, and Adia did so in return. But I, I couldn't bring myself to do the same. I was far, far too intrigued by him. He still looked as though he was under the weather. The bags under his eyes were even more pronounced, his skin sunken and sallow, his lips parched and chapped.
This was far beyond the simple cold or flu. At least, it most certainly seemed this way from my perspective. After all, "he has the flu" was the same excuse that Adia and her parents gave whenever someone asked about Masood. That excuse may have flown with Mahmood and Tanya, but I was of a far more intelligent calibre than they were, and I was smelling bullshit. After all, I have been sick with the flu as a child, and I have seen my brother taken ill with it, too. And, in truth, we had healed up within a few days or so. We never looked as though we were on death's door.
Whatever the fuck is wrong with him, he certainly shouldn't be sitting here, I thought, fixing Masood with a terse stare. He should be kept away from the rest of us healthy people, he should be sequestered within his bedroom, quarantined until he heals or dies. In all good conscience, what are Faraya and Javid doing, letting him sit here?
Still, I knew that I couldn't do much to prevent what had already happened. Short of telling Masood to leave, which could be considered "bullying" and get me into trouble, there was nothing that I could do but push these feelings to the back of my mind and just get this lunch over and done with. All I could do was hope for the best. I sat beside Adia, who grinned at me.
Faraya placed our lunches on the table in front of us. "Eat up, you three," she said, in that usually friendly tone of her. She was always in good spirits, humming under her breath as she meandered over to the sink and began to wash up the dishes. I, who was seated in the perfect spot to bear witness to this, was a little confused. Did they not have servants? That was what people hired Hazaras for, was it not? It was why my family had servants. That was why Hamilra existed. What was Faraya doing?
Adia elbowed me in the side. "Aren't you gonna start eating?" she asked, gesticulating towards my full plate. Not wanting to cause disquiet for the girl, I picked up my fork and began to eat the meal her mother had laid out. I must admit, Faraya was a good cook, a great cook, actually. Compliments were due, and I, being the angelic perfection that I was, knew that it was down to me to offer them.
I spoke up to Faraya. "Your cooking is incredible, Khala Faraya," I complimented. "This is some of the best food I've ever tasted."
She was not expecting that. She turned from where she was scrubbing grease off of a plate, and looked at me. She cooed. "Thank you, Saria, that means a lot, darling. I'm glad you think so. But..." she paused, a teasing smile forming on her lips, eyes sparkling with mirth. "But tell me, just between us, are you saying that my cooking is better than your mother's?"
In Faraya's eyes, this may have been a joke. Just some whimsical back and forth with her daughter's little friend. But for me, this was yet another instance in which I had to turn on my charm - dial it up to eleven, as the saying goes. It was imperative that I said the right thing, so as to not offend Faraya, and so as to not say something that might have been considered to be "dishonouring" my mother.
"Your cooking is different from my mama's," I told her honestly. "Both are equally as good, though." She seemed satisfied by my answer, turning back to the dishes once more. My words were true; Faraya's methods of cooking was different from how Tanya did so. Not that I knew anything about the ingredients she used, or the utensils, but... it was more than that. When Tanya cooked a meal, it was done because she had to. Because she didn't want her children to starve, and because, well, cooking for your family was the done thing. Her food was tasty, but there was no love behind it.
With Faraya, it was easy to tell that she did this as a labour of love. An example of the kindness in her heart, the compassion that she held for not only her own children, but for me, too. Strange as this may be to admit, but it made me wonder if this is what having a loving, caring mother was like. A mother who enjoyed doing things for her kids, and who liked spending time with them. A mother for whom the happiness and enjoyment of her brood was more important than being perfect, or "what the neighbours" think.
Continuing to eat, I tore my gaze away from Faraya and over to the table that I had bumped into during my last fateful visit to the Kalahari home. There was an empty space there, where the vase I'd broken used to be. I fixated on that spot, robotically spooning food into my mouth, taking note of the little circle of dust on that table. Had they even cleaned up while the vase rested there, I wondered? Or had they been so afraid to move it, afraid that it may break. If only they'd known what would happen, I'm sure they would have moved it into a safer place, and then, surely, we would not have had the disaster that we did.
It still amazed me, and does to this day, that Faraya was treating me with such gentle, open, warm and compassionate feelings, despite the pain that I caused her. Here she was, laughing and joking with me, treating me with the same respect and love that she bestowed upon her own children. Treating me, not as an unwanted guest in her home, but as a welcomed, beloved child that she valued just the same as the others in her household. This, you see, this was what forgiveness was. Not the "step out of line and we'll rescind the leniency we've bestowed upon you" that Mahmood and Tanya lived by, but pure, true, unadulterated compassion.
This was how a mother was supposed to be. How a parent was supposed to act. All children made mistakes, did they not, and it was the duty of the parent to educate them, offer forgiveness and grace, and then move on. No holding grudges, no dangling their errors over their heads like a switch with which to beat them. No treating them like vile, disgusting cretins who should be executed for what they did. Just pure, warm, openness. A compassion that I, myself, would find difficult to bestow upon any person other than my beloved Assef.
Still, though I may not have felt much of my own care towards Faraya, I was grateful that she had extended such mercy upon me. Lunch went by without a hitch. As we placed our cutlery down, Adia got up from her seat. "Mommy, can Saria and I go and play in the garden? I wanna show her the swing-set that Daddy made for me on my special tree!"
Faraya didn't even look at her daughter. She just waved her off, laughing at her enthusiasm. "Of course, sweetie. You girls have fun."
Adia was on her feet in an instant. "Come on, Saria! Let's go!" She didn't even wait for me to respond, already skipping her way out of the door, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. She opened the back door and, within mere nanoseconds, she was gone. Glancing at the dinner table, I was astonished to note that Adia hadn't even bothered to clear up her place. Her half-empty plate still rested there, as did her napkin. The glass of milk that Faraya poured for her was stood on a coaster beside the plate, only about three-quarters drunk.
This bothered me. Could she not have taken but one second to clear up? It would only have taken a moment, and then we could have gone to play. But what surprised me the most was how Faraya reacted. Instead of being mad or scolding her daughter, instead of bursting through the garden doors and hauling Adia back to give her a lecture about proper conduct, all she did was just shake her head, a tiny laugh escaping from her lips. If I'd done this at home, I would have gotten a two-hour lecture from Tanya, and, if Mahmood felt inclined, I might have faced a lash or two of the belt.
Regardless, Adia may not have had the maturity to clean up after herself, but the same would not be said for me. For one, I didn't want word to come back to my parents about my conduct here, and for the second thing, well, that was just the type of person I am. Cleanliness mattered to me. Neatness mattered to me. I gathered up my own plate, as well as Adia's. Balancing them on my arms, I reached my hand out to Masood. "Masood jan, are you finished your lunch? If so, may I please take your plate?"
Masood blinked. "Oh..." he said, not expecting me to ask such a question. "Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, Saria. Sure. Thank you." He handed me his plate - which was considerably smaller and had had less food on it than mine or Adia's. Our fingertips brushed off of one another as he did so, and I had to remind myself not to frown, not to show any outward disgust at having been touched by this... invalid. Before I could allow the mask to fall, I turned, and brought the plates to the sink. I placed them down, waiting for a sign of approval from Faraya.
She turned and looked down at me with surprise. Raising a brow, she glanced from the plates, to me, then back to the plates again. "Tashakor, Saria jan," she cooed, placing the back of her hand against my face. We looked at each other for a moment, and then, she pulled away, turning her attention back to her cleaning. "Run along and play, darling. You don't want to keep Adia waiting for too long, she no doubt has much mischief planned for you both." There was a whimsical sense to her attitude. She gestured to the back door, and I began making my way out there.
Just before I reached the back door, Masood stopped me. He approached, holding out an arm to prevent me from going any farther. I paused, looking up at him sceptically. Glancing back to where Faraya once was, I noticed her walking away, to do what, I had no clue, nor did I give a fuck. The only thought in my head was that I was now left alone with Masood. There was nobody to come to my aid, nobody to rescue me should I need it. I stared into Masood's eyes, trying to figure out what it was that he wanted.
But there was nothing there, no way for me to read him. It wasn't that he was emotionless, no, on the contrary, it was that his eyes held more feeling than I could read. Perhaps, my inability to read him was just because I didn't know him. On a subconscious level, I wondered if Adia was able to read what her brother was thinking and feeling in the same way that I could with my Assef. Either way, there was no way I was going to get to the bottom of what this was about without first inquiring about it. I opened my mouth to speak. "I..."
Masood got there first, however. In a raspy, almost choked tone, he said, "You're getting along well with my sister?"
I nodded, bringing a finger to my lips. "Yes," I said, glancing down for a moment. "Uh, yeah, we're getting along very well, actually." True. Adia and I had been getting along swimmingly - so far so good, in my personal opinion. Masood continued to stare down at me, giving me a questioning eye. Come now, what exactly do you fucking want? I thought, struggling to hold my cheerful, happy optimism. I wondered if there was any way that I could make a run for it. How far would I get before he called me back? I just did not want to be involved in this damn conversation.
"That's good," Masood smiled. It didn't quite reach his eyes. He glanced towards the back garden where his sister had run out to play. "You know, I'm very glad that you want to be her friend, Saria. I think... I think it's very good that she has someone like you, someone to look out for her, someone that she can trust." He paused. "I've only just met you, but I can already tell that you're going to have a bright and positive influence on my sister."
A bright and positive influence? Well, from my perspective, one might certainly see it in that way. Everything would fall into place, just the way that I wanted it to. Of course, I didn't tell Masood this. I merely kept up the charming facade, that epitome of the virtues for which I am known to extort. "Well, I can tell that she's going to be a wonderful friend for me, too," I replied, my tone remaining light-hearted. "I am, after all, having a lot of fun playing with her and getting to know her better. This is going to be a friendship that lasts forever, you can trust my word on that, Masood jan." He laughed at that, and I then pointed towards the backdoor. "Ah, and speaking of my new friendship with your sister, uh... may I please be excused? She's waiting for me in the gardens and I don't want her to think I'm not coming."
Masood laughed, waving me away. "Oh, of course, of course. Sorry, I don't mean to keep you. Go on, go and have fun." The minute he said that, I took my cue to begin going around him. Alas, before I could move, he reached his arms out, spreading them open. That stopped me in my tracks. Did he expect me to hug him? Did he... did he want me to put my hands on him? To think he could put his hands on me? The sheer audacity on his part!
Fat chance of that happening! I'm not the type of person who goes around hugging others, and I'm certainly not the type who hugs sick people. I rather like being healthy, thank you very much. As Masood stood there, awaiting my reciprocal embrace, I let out a shy giggle, bit my lip, and ducked around him. His face fell, disappointment evident in his brown eyes, but I was already rushing my way out of the back door. I fumbled with the lock, struggling to open it. Masood walked away, his footsteps fading as he disappeared into the hallway, and retreated up the stairs.
Outside, I descended the steps and found myself in the Kalahari's garden. An abundance of beautiful flora and fauna surrounded me, planted in various areas. There were two large poplar trees. One of them - the sturdiest - had two long pieces of rope tied to it. And, secured onto the end of said rope, were two large car tires. Adia was perched on one of the tires, her bare legs dangling, hands gripping the rope. She was in her element, unbridled joy plastered on her face.
She noticed me lingering in the doorway, and grinned, beckoning me forward. "Saria!" she chimed. Adia paused in mid-swing, her toes digging into the grass. "Come here, look at the swings that Daddy made for me!" How excited the bubbly girl was for me to come in and join her game. Who was I to deny her? I laughed, cheering in delight as I ran towards her. I reached the swing-set, and grinned at Adia. She motioned to the other tire. "Isn't it neat? Come on, swing with me!"
I guess I did have to admire her innocence. Her excitement to share with me this toy that her father had invested time - and probably money - into creating for her. I placed my hands around the rope, and then put one foot into the tire, the other dangling in mid-air. "Okay, let's do this," I whispered to myself, "one, two, three..." With that, I hoisted myself up so that I was balancing on the tire like Adia. I stretched my foot out, my toe barely touching the ground, but it gave me enough momentum to push off. Back and forth I went, the wind in my hair, the exuberance of being airborne. I closed my eyes and let it all wash over me.
This... this was what childhood felt like. This was innocence - far from the terrors of punishment, from the scrutiny of parents, from the constant need to be angelically unblemished, this was freedom. The only other times that I was ever as free as this was when I was with my Assef. This would never truly compare to the heaven that was his presence, but it was coming to a very close second. I made a mental note to broach the idea of having a swing of my own built at home. Mahmood and Tanya may not be agreeable in the beginning - yet if I told them that Adia loved them, then, they might entertain the idea, to make her happy.
About half-way through swing number five, I became overwhelmed with the feeling that Adia was looking at me. You just know how you can just tell when someone's eye is fixed on you. That intuition that we humans are blessed with. I lazily opened one eye and turned to face her. She was gazing at me with an unreadable expression, her little brow furrowed. This was a far cry from the joyous countenance that she'd been exhibiting moments before. I wasn't sure what this was about, but I wanted to find out.
"Is everything alright, Adia jan?" I asked. "You look as though there is something weighing on your mind. Would you like to share with me?" Oh, how I wish I had not opened my damn mouth and asked that question. See no evil, hear no evil, know no evil, do no evil. That was the mantra by which I should have lived by, and in that moment, especially. But the cat was out of the bag, the line was cast and the only option was for me to wait and see what Adia would do in response.
It took her a second to formulate her words. She placed her finger in her mouth, chewing on a hangnail. "I... It's probably nothing. It's just something that came into my head, uh, something that other children around the neighbourhood are talking about." Intrigued, I motioned for her to continue. She pulled her finger from her mouth and wiped it against the front of her shirt. "Uh, is it true that your brother... that he... that he bit Farsef Sajihdi's ear off?"
I blinked. Of all the questions I expected her to ask, that was not one of them. In all honesty, maybe I shouldn't have been too surprised. The news of what Assef had done to Farsef had spread throughout Wazir-Akbhar-Khan, circulating like wildfire as all rumours do. It only took one person talking about it - no doubt Farsef himself or his brother, Aarash - and soon every child was talking about the violent, gruesome attack. My brother's infamy had spread; and he'd even acquired a new nickname for himself - "Assef Goshkhor" - or "Assef the Ear Eater". Of course, it was a name that they only dared to whisper in hushed tones when he wasn't around - doing it to his face, they knew, may have resulted in them having their own ears bitten off, just as Farsef had.
Now brought back to reality, I was faced with a choice. Tell Adia the truth, confess to something that she already knew of, or to pretend like I didn't know what she was talking about. To change the subject and get her back into more innocent, happy topics. Did I really want to broach this topic with her? To let her into the darkened world that my brother and I lived in? She was pure and good, would she have been able to handle it?
You should just tell her, Saria, I thought. You want to make her yours? This is one of the consequences of that. Let this be a test for her, and for you. Tell her, see where her loyalty lies. Be open and honest, and then you will know where you stand. If she knows already, then what be the harm in confirming it for her? These words circulated in my mind as I faced Adia, gave her a solemn look - trying to hide my budding grin at the memory of Farsef's punishment - and said, "Yes, Adia. Yes, he did."
Adia's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She jumped down from her swing and looked at me, gaping like a dying fish. I, too, descended from my own swing, following her as she paced. Had she been hoping that the rumours were just that - rumours? Had she been hoping for them not to be true? She must have been, if her reaction was anything to go by. She looked at me like she was afraid the same fate may befall her now. "But... but why, Saria? Why would... what... your brother... why would he do such a thing?"
Should I dare to speak further on the matter? To taint the blessed petals of her innocence once more? Or was the best option to keep quiet, to change our topic into something more lighthearted, to get her mind from the terrors of knowing her new friend's older brother was, as her naive mind must see, it, some sort of ear-eating maniac? Did I protect her gentle nature, or did I push this for all it was worth? I knew my answer, and I decided to toy a little bit with her, to see if I could make her empathise with my plight.
I gave her a downcast stare, my voice trembling as I began my tale of woe. "Because..." I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, and bit down on my fist, as though afraid to let her in on this tragic event. Was this all but a mere lie, emotional manipulation from my part? To some degree, yes, but on the other hand... I did still feel that sense of righteous indignation whenever I thought about what Farsef had done to me. "You see, Adia, Farsef was mean to me. He... I..." I paused, and Adia tenderly reached out to place a hand on my arm, urging me to continue. "I bought a kite from the market and I was flying it, and Farsef came along and started saying all these bad words, and calling me all of these mean, nasty names."
My tone was childlike, using words that I knew Adia would understand. From the look on her face, and the comforting way that she rubbed my shoulder, I knew that I had gained her compassion. "Uhm... then... then what happened, Saria?" she asked.
"Then he told me to give him my kite but I didn't want to," I said. I made my voice become quieter, more fearful, as I recounted what had happened, the horror that I'd felt as I'd been shoved down from that wall, tossed to the dirt like trash. "So he tried to steal it from me, and I... I told him to go away, but that made him angry, so then he pushed me over and I got a cut on my leg. That's when my brother came and he got mad because of what Farsef had done to me, and then..." I waved my hand over my right ear, and then gestured to my throat. "Well, you know..."
Adia blinked rapidly. She opened and closed her mouth, over and over, trying to formulate a coherent response to my words. Her gaze flicked downwards, towards my leg, which had long since healed of its injury. On some level, I wondered if she were trying to gauge whether or not I'd been entirely truthful with her, which, well... I had been. I had only embellished the story a little bit to further the narrative where I was the victim. No need for her to know that I, too, had joined in Farsef's punishment with gusto.
"Uh, that must have been... uhm... that must have been scary," she finally muttered, digging her heel into the ground. She cast her gaze downwards, but I could still see the tears that permeated upon her face. Was she crying for me, or because she empathised with what Farsef had gone through? I feared what the answer would be to that question, but, alas, I could not prevent the inevitable. Adia gulped, placing her hand on my shoulder. "It still wasn't right for Assef to do that, though."
I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose. Frustration bubbled under my skin, coming just under the surface. Adia's only saving grace in that moment was the fact that she didn't mean what she was saying. She was naive, she didn't know any better. In her mind, the punishment did not fit the crime. It was down to me to pass on a little social education and inform her that yes, in fact, it did. I placed my hand over hers, giving her a stern yet understanding gaze. "He did it to protect me, Adia jan. To defend me, because that's what a good big brother does; he looks out for and protects his little sister."
Adia shook her head. "I... I mean..."
Here now, was my chance to play my trump card. I looked Adia deep into her eyes, still watering under the intense pressure of what she'd just learned. "Come now, Adia jan, can you honestly tell me that Masood wouldn't have done the same thing for you? That he wouldn't have stood up to defend his little sister, had what was done to me been done to you?"
Of course, I was more than aware that Masood would never have done for Adia what Assef did for me. For one, the boy could hardly stand up physically on his own two feet, much less "stand up" for his baby sister. For another thing, he was no doubt far too much of a pussy to ever lay his hands on anyone, even if that person had threatened, hurt or grabbed Adia. But I had laid the question out to her, I had given her cause to think about this. She may not be able to fully comprehend what Assef had done, on a moral or ethical level, but on a familial level, as a sister who's brother loved her - I assumed - she surely would be able to understand. Surely.
Her reaction took me aback, though. She seemed, for lack of a better word, offended, by what I was insinuating. She moved back, gaping at me, recoiled as though I'd just punched her in the face. She made a weird vocalization, as though she wanted to curse at me, but didn't think she should. The next words from her mouth could have made or broken our entire relationship. "My... my brother would never, ever do such an awful thing to someone else. He... He would never lay his hands on another person like that, much less bite their ear off!"
I opened my mouth. Tried to say something else. Tried to explain things a bit more. Adia must have figured that I didn't get her point, however, as she continued on her fucking tirade. "You know that Farsef's half-deaf now, don't you?! You know that he's... that he's going to suffer this for the rest of his life?" My lips twitched. The mental image of Farsef going through life, struggling to hear even the most basic of conversations, it made a burst of laughter spew out of me. Adia glared, wagging her finger at me. "People are going to laugh at him, and tease him and whisper mean things behind his back!" she exclaimed.
Not much issue if he can't hear them, I quipped internally, but managed to keep some level of control not to make that joke out loud. Adia threw her hands up, groaning in frustration. 'Bullying' was something that caused great offence to her. "There's no excuse for doing something so horrid, Saria. There's no excuse for hurting another person that way. Anyone who does that... they're just... just evil!"
I blinked. The world tilted on its axis. Did she... had she really just said what I thought she just said?! Had she really just opened her fucking mouth and let the most cruel words come tumbling out? I tried to measure my response, to keep my voice calm, though that was becoming increasingly ever-more difficult. "Are you saying," I began, taking a menacing step towards her. "Are you saying that my brother is evil? Is that what you're getting at here, Adia jan?" I spat that last word as though it were poison.
Adia mustn't have had the foresight or common sense to backtrack or apologise for what she'd just said. "Well, yeah, if that's the kind of person that he is, then... then he is evil. He's a monster and I-"
But she never got the chance to finish that sentence. My ears began ringing. My entire body swayed, and I lurched forward, as if I were about to throw up. The whole world melted away in that instance, in that garden, with this little bitch trying to lecture me of all people. In that instance, I no longer cared about my experiment with Adia, I no longer cared about pretending to be a good, caring friend to her. I no longer cared that I had an image to maintain. No, my only driving thought was this: she insulted my brother.
The realisation hit me like a freight train. It was like someone had handed me a bomb that was about to detonate any minute. Bile rose up in my throat, my eyes stung, my heart sank to the bottom of my chest. Adia may well have thrown ice water over me, that was how numb I felt. She'd just called Assef a monster. My brother. My Assef. The person who took care of me when nobody else did. The person who held me when I cried, protected me from those who would do me harm, understood me, understood all of the darkness in me and embraced it - and me - with open arms. The person who was my only equal, my best friend, my world and universe.
She had just called him a monster. Just insinuated that he was evil, that he was this horrid, vile bully. My anger spewed forth, and, with the blood rushing to my head once more, I lunged forward and caught Adia by the arm. A gasp of fear escaped her, but I didn't care. My nails dug into her flesh, my grip around her so forceful my knuckles turned white. I shook her violently back and forth, lips peeled back in a snarl, baring my teeth to her like fangs. "You don't say that!" I all but screamed in her face.
The look on her face was nothing short of terrified. Her eyes flicked from my contorted, monstrous gaze, to my nails digging into her arm. She tried to move back, but there was no way in hell that I was going to let her get away that easily. This little bitch had dared to insult Assef in front of me, and I would be damned if I didn't stand up for him. I violently shook Adia back and forth, raising my hand, as if to strike her. She covered her face with her other arm. I placed my hand down, wagging my finger in her face.
"I... I..." Adia gulped, trembling. She let out a whine of fear and pain, her lower lip trembling. "I'm... you're hurting me, Saria! You're hurting me!"
I kept shaking her, my body fuelled by nothing but rage. Nothing made me angrier than when someone dared to insult Assef, and to think that this little self-righteous brat had the gall to refer to him as an "evil monster" for no other reason than he'd defended me. "Hurting you, you little brat?!" I snarled. "Hurting you?! You fucking bitch, you... you go and insult my brother and then you have the AUDACITY to say that I am hurting YOU?"
Adia tried to say something else, to defend herself once more, but I was too far gone to listen to her. Pure, unbridled rage was the only feeling that I was going off of in this moment. I stomped my foot on the ground in a tantrum. "You don't talk about Assef like that, you hear me? You don't call him those names, you don't fucking say that he's a monster, or imply anything of the like. You will NEVER say such a disgusting thing again, because I swear, Adia, if you do... if you do..." I trailed off, my voice low, dangerous and menacing. "If you do, then I promise, I will make sure that you suffer for it. You think what happened to Farsef was bad, that will be a fucking pat on the back compared to what I'll do to you. Do I make myself perfectly clear on that?!"
Little Adia was now crying openly. Snot, tears, and all forms of disgusting mucus coated her face, her body trembling with wracked sobs. Pathetic. Utterly, and truly pathetic. But there was a strange, awkward sensation in my gut. A feeling that I was unused to comprehending. I shook it from my mind as Adia offered a broken, weak apology. "I'm... I'm sorry, Saria. I didn't mean... I didn't wanna upset you. I won't say that again, I promise. Please don't, please don't hurt me!"
Finally, my rage began to die down. I released her arm, taking a few steps back. Adia's tiny hand instantly went to rub at the large, red mark that I had caused. As my temper simmered once more, I was now hit full force with what an idiotic idea that had been. Lashing out, hurting Adia like this? Laying my hands upon her, in her own home? I cursed myself, wanting to cry at my own stupidity.
Damn it, Saria, did you really have to go and smack her around like that? What if someone saw you both, what if one of her family members was watching from the window?! That was a horrifying, heart-stopping thought. I turned my head towards the window, almost expecting Faraya, Javid or Masood to have been standing there, witnessing my act of cruelty. If they had, then I could think of no saving grace. That would have been the end of me, no doubt in a most literal sense. But luckily for me, there was nobody there. We seemed to be in the clear.
Still, I knew now that I had just shown Adia the darkest parts of myself. She was cowering away from me, whimpering, muttering out apology after apology. What was she thinking? What would she do? Was she planning to rush back to the safety of her house, to tell her mother what I had done? No, no, I couldn't have that. I began to rub her arm, carefully, tenderly stroking the bruise I was sure to have left. "I'm sorry, Adia jan," I whispered, making her head jerk up as she looked at me as though I'd grown twenty extra eyes. "I shouldn't have put my hands on you like that, I shouldn't have..."
She continued to whimper, flinching away from me. Terrified that I may hurt her again, but too afraid that I might snap again to get away. I cupped her face in my hand, wiping her tears. "I... I over-reacted, Adia, and I sincerely apologise for that. I just... I was so angry because of what you said. My brother means so very much to me that it hurts my feelings when someone says mean words about him. I know that I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, but..." Would she believe me? Would she forgive me? Or had I just ruined all hope with Adia?
Adia wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She must have thought that forgiving me was a better option than continuing our argument, as she gave me a small, timid nod. "I... I... It's okay, Saria."
I breathed out in relief, opening my arms for her. Desperate for comfort, even from the person who had so brutally assaulted her, Adia fell into my embrace. I rubbed her shoulders and kissed her head, rocking her in my arms. "Hush now, Adia jan. Dry your tears, it's all okay now, I promise. I won't hurt you again, sweet one, I won't. Just... take it easy now. You're okay, we're okay." On some level, I wondered if I were trying to convince myself of that. Adia's hyperventilating slowed, her breathing fading into to a more normal, rhythmic pattern.
Once I was sure that she'd calmed down enough, I pulled her up so that she was looking me in the eye. Now, I knew, was the time to manipulate her once more. So much was at stake here, and if I didn't get this absolutely right, well then, I shudder to think of the consequences. I tilted Adia's chin upwards. "Adia," I said, "I need... I need you to make me a promise. I need you to swear to me that you won't tell anyone about what happened here. That you'll keep our argument between the two of us."
"But... but what about...?" Her gaze landed on her bruised arm again. I knew what she was thinking; how to explain that to her parents. Fortunately for her, though, Saria Ahmed is a master when it comes to explaining away injuries. "All you need to do is say that you fell off of your swing while we were playing. Tell them that it was an accident. It will all be okay, just... if you tell them what really happened, they won't want us to be friends anymore. They'll stop me from coming round to play and I don't want that, do you?"
Adia shook her head, frantic, horrified by the very thought. In that moment, I wondered just how lonely she must truly have been. "I won't tell, Saria, I promise. I want us to be friends, I won't... I won't tell anyone. Cross my heart!"
"Good." That was that, then. Over and done with. While a miniscule part of me feared that she may go back on her word, I pushed such thoughts to the back of my mind. I would not think that way. She had been punished for her actions, and now, I had forgiven her. I drew her back into my arms, kissing her head and shushing her. Everything would be okay. Everything would work out in my favour, this I knew.
This was only a blip in the road. We would make it through, Adia and I. My experiment would soon be back on track.
Thank you to all for reading! In the next chapter, Saria is introduced to Amir and Hassan for the first time, and her opinions on both of them are drastically different. I appreciate all of you wonderful readers. Thank you again!
