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Authors: Lilas Taha

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BOOK: Bitter Almonds
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‘Congratulations, my friend.'

‘Thank you.' Omar sat straighter in his chair.

‘You're lucky. You now have a respectable teacher for a brother-in-law.'

‘Right.'

‘What news of our national hero, Nasser? I bet you get a lot of inside information at the academy.'

‘Nasser's threats to deny Israeli ships passage through the Straits of Tiran will most likely throw us into war.'

‘So it's true, then? Nasser will not let this go.'

‘The narrow sea passages between Sinai and the Arabian Peninsula are too vital.' Omar tried not to sound like a teacher, but he welcomed the distraction. ‘If the Israelis decide to strike Sinai, we will join forces with the Egyptians to repel the aggression. Pave the way to Palestine. Get back what we lost.'

‘I heard the Soviets are sending us arms and tanks. You ready for war?'

Omar met his friend's eyes. ‘You bet.'

Marwan extended his hand. ‘I think you were always ready.'

Omar gave Marwan's hand a firm shake. ‘Thanks for the confidence.'

‘You were missed here.'

‘Trouble?'

‘Nothing worth mentioning.' Marwan pointed with his head in the direction of a couple of young men leaning against a wall in the background. ‘Blue tie over there mentioned Nadia to my cousin.'

Omar zoomed in on Mr Blue Tie. ‘And?'

‘Let's say he didn't dare talk about her again.' Marwan folded his arms on his chest. ‘Don't worry. Like I promised, I got your back.'

‘I knew I could count on you.' Omar interjected as much confidence in his voice as he could. His plan seemed to be working. Knowing Nadia's infatuation with his good friend, he had asked him to keep a watchful eye on her in his absence. Bound by an unspoken code, Marwan would have to stay at a respectful distance, honoring Omar's trust in him. At least she had chosen a decent guy, Omar pacified himself.

‘I can't say the same thing about Shareef.' Marwan paused, seemed to hesitate to go on. ‘I don't want to dampen the mood here, but something needs to be done.'

‘Same girl?'

‘I heard one of her brothers ambushed him on campus. Warned him to stay away. It was all hushed, of course. Everyone thought they quarreled about money. But I know the full story.'

Omar shook his head. ‘Idiot.' He found Shareef skulking in a corner with three guys, strangers to Omar. ‘Who are they?'

‘New friends from the university, I guess.' Marwan leaned closer to whisper in Omar's ear, ‘I think you should let his father know at this point.'

Omar scowled. ‘That bad?'

‘All I can say is that you may need to arrange for another wedding soon.' Marwan pulled back. ‘Before it's too late.'

Omar's eyes darted back to Shareef. Could it be? What a goddamn idiot. ‘Your sources?' The muscles in his arms tightened with anger.

‘My oldest sister. She's friends with the girl's oldest brother's wife. The women are keeping it to themselves at this point. My sister knows I care about . . . your family's reputation. That's why she told me.'

‘You sure about this?'

Marwan ducked his head, touching his chin to his chest. ‘I would ask Huda if I were you.'

‘Shit! That far?'

‘Sorry, man. I'm not saying another word. God forgive me for bringing it up. I got young sisters of my own.' Marwan stretched to his feet. ‘You will let me know if you need anything?'

Omar shook his friend's hand. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Huda about something as delicate as this. Talk to Huda, period. He had managed to avoid her so far. Spotting her among the women, she looked subdued. To an ignorant onlooker, she gave the image of being sad about losing a sister. Omar knew better.

‘It's not that bad,' Nadia's voice sang by his side. Concentrating on Huda, he hadn't noticed Nadia approaching him from the side. ‘Fatimah will be just down the street.' Nadia took Marwan's chair.

Omar held his breath for a few seconds. The perfume she used moved a deep spot inside him. ‘I know,' he breathed.

‘It's fine to smile, you know. Just don't show your teeth.'

He stretched his lips to a wide smile, without cracking them open.

Nadia giggled. ‘On second thought, don't smile. You look ridiculous. Especially without your hair.' She tilted her head to one side, a warm and wistful expression in her eyes. ‘I missed you.'

‘I missed everyone.' Omar ran a hand over his shaved head. ‘I expected to see you at home when I got there.'

‘You were late. We had to be at the salon.' She touched her hair. ‘You like my chignon?'

‘It's very . . . nice.'

‘You're not even looking at me.'

He glanced her way, raising his eyebrows. ‘Your grades?'

‘Took a good dive.' She poked him in the arm. ‘It's all your fault.'

‘How bad?'

Nadia nudged him with her shoulder. ‘Will you relax, please? My grades are not bad, just lower.' Placing a hand on her chest, she swung her head toward the band. ‘Oh, I just love this song. Abdul Haleem is a dream,' she breathed, referring to the dashing young singer whose song the band was playing.

Taking advantage of her distraction, he drank in her beauty. How would she feel if the popular singer were actually present, singing the song instead of the band? She would probably faint.

Nadia swayed sideways, moving her shoulders up and down with the music and rubbing Omar's shoulder in the process.

God help him, he needed to move aside. He pretended to stretch his back to create some distance between them.

Oblivious, Nadia craned her neck closer to his face, peering past a couple blocking her view. ‘Doesn't she look fabulous?'

He followed her gaze to where Fatimah sat drowning in her multi-layer white dress next to Waleed. ‘Absolutely.'

‘I helped with her make-up.' Nadia drew back. ‘Do you like my dress?'

‘You look fabulous, too.' Allowing himself to gawk at her, he added, ‘You always do.'

Nadia blushed. Her eyes flickered to his left and her blush deepened. Without taking his eyes off her face, Omar knew she was looking at Marwan in the far corner. He nodded his head in Fatimah's direction. ‘You think she's forgiven me?'

‘The instant the door closed behind you, Fatimah prayed for your safety and success.' Nadia dabbed delicate fingertips to her cheeks. ‘Made us all cry. Omar, the guy you were just talking to. Is he . . .' Nadia's words faltered.

‘Marwan Barady? What about him?' He braced himself for what he had to hear.

‘He's not with you in the academy, right? I've seen him around. Since he helped with Fatimah's engagement party.'

‘Marwan has a business.'

‘Where do you know him from?' She picked at an invisible thread in her lap. ‘Shareef said he didn't go to your school.'

‘Marwan's father passed away when he was fourteen. He had to quit school to help his uncle run his father's business and see to his sisters. Shareef doesn't remember him, I guess.'

‘Is he Palestinian?'

‘Syrian.' Unable to control his aggravation, Omar's left leg started quivering. ‘What's going on, Nadia? Did Marwan do anything I should be concerned about? Did he cross any lines with you?'

Blushing, she mumbled, ‘Oh, no. Nothing like that.'

‘What then?' He tried to soften his tone, and failed. Why did he push? Knowing what her answer would be.

Nadia half rose from her chair. ‘Never mind. Forget I asked.'

He shot his hand to hold her arm. ‘Not so fast.'

She looked down at him with watery eyes. Heavens, he was about to make her cry. Letting go of her arm, he urged, ‘Sit down, please.'

She shook her head. To his dismay, Nadia placed both hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, ‘I think he's like Inspector Atif.' In one fluid move, she straightened and dashed away to join her friends.

Omar blinked and put a firm hand on his shaking leg to make it stop. Of all the heroes in the Five Adventurers Series, she chose the protective Inspector Atif as her idol? Did she know Marwan was watching over her? Had his plan backfired? Maybe he shouldn't have kept Marwan at a distance, drawing her in with his mysterious presence. And what the hell was he? Atif's scrawny sidekick? When would this girl grow up?

Seeing Uncle Mustafa trudging his way over to him, Omar rose to his feet and closed the distance.

Uncle Mustafa laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘It's time, son.'

The couple's entourage of family members and close friends started its way down the stairs. Holding Fatimah's hand in his, Waleed headed to his place amidst cheerful songs and spontaneous dances. Older people who hadn't joined the wedding celebrations looked on from open windows and balconies. At the entrance to Waleed's apartment building, Uncle Mustafa held Omar back from following the party up the stairs.

‘Your job is done.'

Omar's steps slowed. Shareef fell in line with them. Tugging at his arm, they half dragged him back to the house. ‘Tell me about your training,' Uncle Mustafa prompted. ‘You've lost weight. They don't feed you well?'

‘It's fine.' He was reluctant to talk about the hellish three months in the academy they called training. His muscles had grown stronger, his
skin darker from long hours of exposure and his attitude meaner and harder. Being in the academy was serious business. Turning boys into men was a brutal process, distinguishing those with leadership qualities a ruthless one. If Omar hadn't fit in with the family before he left to the academy, he certainly stood out now. Leaving Uncle Mustafa at home, he turned to Shareef. ‘Come, we need to talk.'

 

13

Omar talked Shareef into taking the bus to Qassyoon Mountain overlooking the city of Damascus from the north. The last stop on the bus route would be secluded this late at night, providing a private place where no one would hear their delicate talk.

On the way, Omar kept Shareef busy with questions about his studies and his afternoon work at the newspaper press that Waleed had arranged for him. He found out the family's financial situation hadn't improved: Shareef's extra income went into his own pocket, covering books and other study materials. Fatimah's pay had stopped since she had become Um Waleed's daughter-in-law. Whatever Huda brought in remained the only constant addition to Uncle Mustafa's wages. Omar's meager cadet allowance covered a couple of doctor visits for Uncle Mustafa.

Once they got off the bus, Omar found the perfect spot and turned to face Shareef. ‘Now that we've covered everything else, want to tell me about your love life?'

‘That's why you dragged me up here?' Shareef's tone was incredulous. He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘My love life is none of your concern.'

‘It is when it drags your sisters' reputation through the mud.' Omar kept his tone hard and threatening.

‘What the hell are you talking about?' Shareef took out a cigarette box and shoved the edge of a wrinkled cigarette between his lips. He struck a matchstick and cupped his hands around the cigarette. ‘Who dares say a word about the girls?'

Omar went straight to the point. ‘Anyone who will know what you did to Sameera.'

Taking a long puff, the burning tobacco illuminated Shareef's face. His expression changed from defiance to anger to shame. Blowing smoke out of his nostrils, he furrowed his eyebrows, retracted his chin, and swiped his hand under his nose.

Good thing Shareef had a character that could be easily shaken. Omar knew how to manipulate him. Something he shouldn't be proud of, but it had served him well so far. ‘So it's true.'

Shareef turned to walk away. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

Omar clasped a firm hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. ‘You didn't think about that, did you? You didn't think word would get out? How your sick father would take the news? Your mother?' Omar brought his face closer, stressing his words. ‘What would happen to Sameera? What people would say about Nadia, her friend, for God's sake?'

Shareef swallowed. ‘How did you find out? Who told you?'

‘Not important.' He let go of Shareef's arm, found a big boulder, and balanced his backside against it. ‘The right question is . . .' He pointed a finger in Shareef's face. ‘What are you going to do about it?'

Shareef kicked pebbles under his shoes. ‘I don't think any of her brothers know yet. So I don't see why I have to do anything at this point.'

‘Really?' Omar shouted the question. ‘Is that how you see it?'

‘One of her brothers warned me to stay away a couple of weeks ago.' He spread his palms up and shrugged. ‘And here I am, staying away.'

‘After what? After you ruined the girl?'

‘They don't know that. Besides, when they do, they can't openly talk about it, accuse me or anything like that.' Shareef's voice quivered.

Omar stretched to his full height and advanced to tower over Shareef. ‘You will do the right thing. The honorable thing. You will marry her.'

Shareef laughed out his words. ‘Are you crazy? I will not marry a loose girl like that.'

‘If you don't,
I
will tell her brothers. Set them after you.' He poked Shareef in the chest. ‘And I will not be around to defend you.'

Shareef attempted to shove Omar out of his way. ‘You would betray me?'

He stayed put. ‘I'll do whatever it takes to stop you from creating a mess for the family.'

‘Then you marry Sameera.' Shareef flicked his cigarette to the ground. ‘If you're so concerned about her, go ahead. Marry her.'

Omar stared with unblinking eyes. In his head, he counted to ten, trying to stop his fist from slamming into Shareef's jaw. ‘And you will not because?'

BOOK: Bitter Almonds
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