A Wind of Change (3 page)

After his body had stopped shaking so violently, his hands balled into fists and he reached for his head as he attempted to hit himself over and over again. Unstrapping him from the chair, I caught both of his hands gently and helped him to his feet. He continued struggling against me as he tried to punch himself. He was taller and stronger than me, but I was practiced at this by now. I guided both of his hands behind his back and held them there firmly, but gently.

“It’s okay, Jamil,” I said softly, resting my cheek against his back. “I’ve got you.”

His groaning and grunting trailed off and he stopped struggling so hard to free his hands. Once I was sure that he wasn’t going to attempt to hit himself again, I slowly let go of him. Although he was unrestrained, both hands remained exactly as I’d positioned them behind his back.

I slipped an arm around his waist and led him out of the kitchen toward the bathroom. I could hear my mother now in the second bedroom, reading a story to Dafne and Lalia. I entered the bathroom with Jamil, pulled down the toilet lid and sat him down. I removed his helmet, then picked up his toothbrush and helped him to brush his teeth. Then I assisted him in changing into his nightclothes. Once he was ready, I led him to the bedroom he shared with my mother. Although it was a small room, she had to sleep in there in case he needed assistance during the night. I guided Jamil into bed—the left of the two twin beds lined up on opposite sides of the room—and pulled up his blanket.

The seizure he’d had was the strongest I’d seen in a while. He looked exhausted by it. I held his hand until his eyelids closed and his breathing became steady. It didn’t take long, only five minutes. My mother had finished reading to my sisters by the time I came out and was finishing cleaning up the kitchen.

“Jamil’s sleeping?” she asked as I entered.

“Yes. He just had a fit.”

“Oh, dear. That’s the fifth one today.”

We were both quiet as my mom finished washing up. Then we headed into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

“So,” she started, her voice low, “how did it go with your father?”

“How could it have possibly gone? He said he was sorry. I said goodbye. He wasn’t given long.”

My mother nodded, biting her lower lip. “Was he disappointed Dafne and Lalia didn’t come?”

“Of course.”

“Did he understand why they didn’t?”

“He seemed to.”

My mother paused. “Did he ask you to visit him?”

“Yes. I told him I couldn’t promise anything.”

She leaned back on the sofa, heaving a sigh. I drew up my feet and wrapped my arms around my knees.

“Lalia seems to have accepted the situation,” my mother said. “But Dafne keeps asking me where he is. I’m not sure what to say to her anymore. I just… I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Dafne’s mature for her age,” I said. “It might be time to just tell her the truth.”

Tears burned in my mother’s eyes. But she swallowed hard and held them back. “Next time she asks, I’ll tell her.” She breathed in deeply. “So, are you looking forward to going to Grandpa’s?”

“Yeah. I mean it will just be like always. It’s nice to have a break there, but… Mom, I’m so worried about how you will cope here all alone with Jamil.”

“Don’t think of me,” she said. “You just go and enjoy yourself. I’ll manage.”

I snuggled closer on the couch, resting my head against her shoulder. I doubted I’d be able to pass more than an hour without worrying about her here in this apartment.

She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer, brushing my forehead with her other hand. We remained silent in each other’s company for a couple of minutes before she reached for the remote and switched on the TV.

She began flipping through the channels, and stopped at a news channel.

“They’re still talking about these kidnappings,” she said. “I just can’t believe on some channels they’re bouncing around words like ‘vampires’ and ‘witches’… I mean, I’m talking about respectable newscasters here. They’re supposed to be delivering news, not spreading hoaxes. The footage they’re showing seems realistic—but so do sci-fi movies these days. It’s nothing a skilled special-effects team couldn’t pull off.”

“That footage of the attack in Chile,” I said. “You can actually see the man ripping into the person’s throat… And what about that dragon footage shot in California? Why would someone want to create an elaborate hoax like this? And what do you think is the cause of these attacks and kidnappings? What about all the missing people, and the witnesses?”

“I have no clue. I was hoping one of these news channels could finally shine some light rather than continue to spout this recycled crap… Seems I hoped for too much.”

“They even closed the schools along the West Coast,” I muttered.

“Well, some dreadful organized crime is clearly going on here. Whoever’s behind this seems to be having fun leaving this media frenzy after them to cover their tracks.”

I’d never witnessed such bizarre theories being broadcast around mainstream media. This was the type of thing you’d read about on sketchy conspiracy blogs. Of course, my mother was right. These media conglomerates were just spinning this story to get more views and sell more papers.

Witches didn’t exist.

And vampires certainly didn’t.

T
he next few
days passed quickly until our trip. Before we knew it, it was the night before and my sisters and I were finishing our packing.

I was kneeling in the bedroom I shared with Dafne and Lalia, making sure my purse contained all the important documents we needed—all three of our passports and other travel documents. My mother would come with us in a taxi to drop us off at the airport, and our grandfather would be waiting at the other end to pick us up. I’d made this journey several times before with my mother, and was used to it. Besides, the airport staff was always helpful if I wasn’t sure where to go with my sisters.

“You should put Lalia’s inhaler in your bag,” my mother called from the hallway.

Lalia’s asthma was better than it had been a few years ago, but there were still occasions when she needed her inhaler.

My little sister was lounging on her bed, humming an off-tune song to herself as she busied herself with a coloring book.

“Laly, where’s your inhaler?” I asked.

“I dunno,” she mumbled, making no motion to get up and look for it.

I guessed my mother had put it in the bathroom cupboard. I was right. Pulling it out, I placed it in my backpack.

We went to bed early that night because we were due to leave at 4am the following morning. The three of us woke up to my shrill alarm going off. Stumbling out of bed, we crowded into the bathroom. Lalia was falling asleep standing up, her toothbrush hanging lopsided in her mouth. I grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cold water, brushing it over her face to wake her up.

We took turns taking a shower and getting dressed. My mother was already in the kitchen, making sandwiches for us to take to the airport.

Once the taxi driver called up to say that he had arrived, I bundled out of the apartment with my two sisters and our luggage, while my mother made her way down after us with Jamil strapped into his wheelchair. I took the stairs while the rest of them took their chances with the elevator.

Arriving on the ground floor, we stepped outside and piled into the car. As it drove away, I couldn’t help but feel excitement for the journey. Although I wished that my mother and Jamil could come with us, I couldn’t deny that I would enjoy getting out of the neighborhood for a while.

Once we had arrived at the airport, my mother and Jamil stayed with us as long as they could until we got in line for the security checks. Then we kissed and said goodbye before my sisters and I passed through the barrier into departures.

We kept waving until my mother was out of sight. I looked down at my two sisters. Lalia was wide-eyed and looking around at the shops surrounding us in the departure lounge, clutching my forefinger in her pudgy hand. Dafne was looking up at me expectantly.

“What now?” she asked.

I took her hand too, holding both of my sisters close to me, and checked the departures board.

“We don’t have that long to wait. Half an hour before we have to go to our gate. We can hang around the shops.”

We couldn’t afford to purchase anything, but my sisters enjoyed looking around the perfume shop. After that, we moved to the book shop and spent the rest of our time there before heading to the gate for boarding.

Lalia requested her sandwich and finished it during the fifteen minutes we had to hang around before we could finally board the plane. We took seats next to each other near the front of the aircraft. Dafne got air sickness so she got the window seat, while I positioned Lalia in the middle and I sat in the aisle seat.

A mischievous smile slowly spread across Lalia’s face. She looked up at me. “Did Mommy pack any lollipops… or baklava?”

“No baklava,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “But she gave us lollipops to help keep our ears unblocked. I’ll give you one once the flight takes off.”

I handed her and Dafne a strawberry lollipop as the plane took off from the runway and unwrapped one for myself too. I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the screen above our seats. We had a long flight ahead of us.

After Dafne and I ate our sandwiches, all three of us fell asleep. It was lunchtime by the time I woke up again. An air stewardess was standing by our row of seats, offering us trays of food.

I woke my sisters and placed our tables down in front of us. We watched a movie as we ate, and after lunch, Dafne and I played a game of hangman while Lalia continued watching the screen. Once the movie had finished, Lalia insisted on playing a game of snap—my mother had thoughtfully packed the cards in her bag. It was one of her favorite games, and she won almost all the time.

We dozed off again at some point and, on waking up the next time, it was to the news that we were approaching Cairo International Airport. I felt the plane beginning to descend. I looked over at Dafne. She was staring out the window, her knuckles pale as she gripped her seat. Surprisingly, she had coped well on this journey. Normally she vomited at least once.

Once the plane had touched down and taxied to a stop, we all stood up and stretched our legs. Then I bundled our carry on luggage out of the locker overhead. I felt excited as we moved toward the front of the plane. It wouldn’t be long now until we would be reunited with our grandfather.

As we stepped out of the plane, the hot Egyptian air engulfed us. I was already sweating. We hurried through the rest of the airport and, after reclaiming our baggage, we finally reached the arrivals area. We looked around for our grandfather. Lalia was the one who spotted him first.

“Grandpa!”

He was a short man with white hair and a beard that covered half his face. He wore a light cotton suit, and his tan face split into a smile as he spotted us.

“My girls!”

We rushed into his arms and he cuddled all three of us at once. The smell of his cologne filled my nostrils.

“How was the flight?” he asked, his Lebanese accent thick as ever.

“It went smoothly,” I said.

A tall ebony-skinned man arrived next to him. “Meet Fariss,” my grandfather said. “My new driver.”

Fariss smiled and shook hands with each of us. He bent down and picked up my sisters’ luggage. When he motioned to carry mine too, I held up a hand and said, “No, it’s fine. I can manage. Thanks.”

We made our way toward my grandfather’s shiny black car in the parking lot. My sisters and I sat in the back while our grandfather sat in the passenger seat. After Fariss had packed all the luggage into the back, he started up the engine and drove us away.

I reached for a paper napkin stuffed into the back of one of the seats and wiped my forehead.

“Wow, it’s hot,” I said.

“Welcome to Cairo.” My grandfather chuckled.

“So what’s the surprise, Grandpa?” Dafne asked.

He swiveled in his seat to look back at us, a gleam in his eyes. “Well, it didn’t look like it was going to coincide with your visit at first, but plans changed… We’ve been invited to an exciting dig. It’s in the ruins of an ancient temple and it’s happening in the desert not too far from home.”

“Oh, my,” Dafne gasped.

“Normally they wouldn’t allow children to attend such things, but the organizer is a friend of mine and he agreed to make an exception. So… what do you say?”

“Yes!” Dafne squealed.

Lalia still looked too overwhelmed by the change of scenery and temperature to register what my grandfather was saying. She was staring out of the window. I was sure that he would find a way to make the dig interesting even for a six-year-old.

The dig certainly sounded exciting to me. Although I wasn’t quite as much of a nerd as Dafne when it came to Egyptian history, I was always interested in my grandfather’s work.

“How long will the dig last?” I asked.

“Well, it’s started already. But I think we will most likely see something interesting by the day after tomorrow. I suggest we leave early, stay the whole day and night and return the next day before lunchtime.”

“Stay the night? In the desert?” Dafne looked all the more excited by the prospect.

“Yes. They’ve set up camp there.”

“Wow,” Dafne said.

“Bashira would come with us, too,” my grandfather added.

“How is Bashira?” I asked. My grandmother had died five years ago, and now my grandfather lived alone except for his longtime housekeeper, Bashira.

“Her joints are getting a bit stiff, but otherwise she’s in good spirits. She’s very much looking forward to seeing you three again.” He paused, straining his neck to look me in the eye. “Are you really going to go back after just one week? I’m still sore about it.”

“Dafne and Lalia could stay longer… then perhaps Bashira could fly back with them to New York?”

My grandfather turned his attention to my two sisters. “And would you two like to do that? Stay here without River?”

Dafne nodded her head furiously. “Can I stay a whole month?”

“Of course! And what about you, Lalia?”

She tore her eyes away from the window. “Huh?”

“Grandpa’s asking if you want to stay here longer with Dafne,” I said. “I’ll be returning home after a week.”

She paused, looking from me to our grandfather. “Ummm, I’ll stay for just… four more days if River isn’t gonna be there.”

“Just four more days?” my grandfather said, chuckling. “I like how precise you are. Okay, I’ll change the tickets when we get home.”

After half an hour, we pulled up in the dusty street outside my grandfather’s home. It was a five-bedroom house—not including Bashira’s quarters, which were round the back—and beautifully constructed. Its white exterior and sleek stone entryway made it seem like a miniature palace.

We entered through the heavy door and looked around at the entrance hall. The walls were covered with parchment containing hieroglyphics, mounted in gold frames. Ancient relics from his various excursions covered the long mantelpiece. We approached the wide staircase in the center of the room and my grandfather led us up.

“So, where would you like to sleep? You have four bedrooms up here to choose from.”

Dafne chose the room with the best view of the swimming pool in the back garden. Lalia just looked up at me. “Where you gonna sleep, River?” she asked.

“Umm…” I looked around the three remaining rooms and chose the one closest to Dafne’s, also with the view of the backyard and the pool. “Let’s sleep in this one.”

“Well, if you want to make yourselves comfortable… Are you hungry or sleepy?” my grandfather asked.

Since we had slept on the plane, none of us were tired. We’d also eaten quite a lot. After we greeted Bashira, a kind Egyptian woman in her late fifties, she served us iced watermelon juice and fresh dates. Then we spent time with my grandfather in his library.

Although his living room was comfortable, his library also contained a large sofa, and it was by far the most interesting room in the house. Its walls were covered with ceiling-high bookcases filled with hundreds of books about Egypt. Dafne could sit in here for hours and hours flying through pages. I was sure that she would become an Egyptologist when she grew up. My grandfather was certainly hoping for it.

We retired to bed once our eyelids started drooping. Lalia and I awoke the next morning to a delicious smell wafting into our bedroom. We padded into the ensuite bathroom, brushed our teeth and took showers. We both changed into our swimsuits and pulled on light cotton dresses from the cupboard that Bashira had bought especially for us. Then we headed downstairs to find Bashira in the midst of cooking a traditional Egyptian breakfast. We helped her finish preparing the meal and then set up the breakfast table outside in the backyard. Dafne and my grandfather joined us within half an hour. After filling our bellies, we lounged around by the pool. I could hardly remember the last time I’d been swimming. I supposed it was the last time I’d visited here.

“For dinner, I have a suggestion,” my grandfather said, looking down at us in the pool as he sat in a deck chair. “My friend, Yusuf, the organizer of the dig, has invited us to a lovely Lebanese restaurant about twenty minutes away. I might have taken you all there before, actually, the last time you came with your mother and Jamil… They also serve a certain sweet pastry that some people around here are fond of…”

I laughed as Lalia stopped swimming and perked up. “Baklava?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes.” My grandfather grinned. “Yusuf has a son around your age, River—Hassan is his name.”

“Sounds fun,” I said, swimming to the edge of the pool and climbing out. I grabbed my towel and sat down in a chair, watching my sisters as they continued splashing in the water.

We spent the rest of the day in the backyard with my grandfather. Dafne and Lalia stopped swimming only for a light lunch, and soon enough, it was time to get ready for dinner.

I headed with Lalia back to our bedroom. We rummaged through the array of beautiful clothes Bashira had bought for us. Lalia picked out a light pink cotton dress. I helped her change into it, then tied her hair back in a French braid.

“I’m
real
pretty,” Lalia said, checking herself out in the mirror and swinging her long braid from side to side.

“You
are
,” I said, smiling.
And oh so modest, too.

“Why don’t you wear that purple one?” she asked, pointing to a long flowing gown.

I eyed it. “Meh. Purple isn’t really my color.” I opted for a dark blue dress instead. It was long but sleeveless, and had a cooling feel to it. I brushed out my hair and was about to tie it up in a bun when Lalia reached for my hand. “It looks nice down.”

I paused, looking at myself in the mirror. She was right that it looked better down. It was just so long that it got in the way—I was in the habit of tying it up all the time. Still, this was a special occasion, so I took my little sister’s suggestion.

Once Lalia and I were ready, we left the bedroom and went downstairs. My grandfather and Dafne were ready and waiting for us. Dafne had chosen a pretty green gown that complemented her purple glasses.

“Well?” my grandfather said. “Are we ready to leave, princesses?”

“Yep,” I replied.

We left the house and walked down the steps toward the car. Fariss was already waiting by it. He opened the door to the back seats and my sisters and I climbed inside, while my grandfather sat in the front. The restaurant wasn’t far away, as my grandfather had said. Soon we were pulling up outside a familiar building. Its exposed brick exterior had an ethnic charm and deep blue fabric draped down from pillars that lined the restaurant’s terrace. This restaurant was right on the edge of town and it had a stunning view of the desert—indeed, the sand started just twenty feet from the entrance.