The Rebel

Amina-3

I swallow a few times to hold back my tears that are about to burst. This has really hit home, because, after all, he is right. What do I want from the English woman who was able to give up her baby, and let twenty years pass without seeking contact with me? Yet, every coin has two sides. Or is it only self-illusion, because it’s painful to accept a mother can give her child up just like that?

Am I forcing myself to find a convincing reason that would justify this woman’s deed and excuse her from the responsibility? Hamid might have a point and I should do better appreciating what I have instead of seeking the unknown. But I know myself and while pondering over this, I already know I will be able to do it. Our extended silence is broken by my brother’s reprimanding voice.

“Do you want to meet her?” he asks darkly, then turns his head towards me and adds, just like an eight-year-old, grumpy little boy, “Dad will not let you anyway. Your place is here with us.”

He even squeezes his lips stubbornly together, and I only realize now what is in the background. He is jealous of my unknown mother. He’s scared what if I find her. He might think I will grow far from them if I meet my real mother. He must really love me, and now I even see how much he sticks to me. A man. He would never say he is jealous, but behind his sulky words I detect brotherly bond. I walk up to him and hug his waist from behind, resting my face on his back. An intimate touch, it rarely happens between us since I became a big girl, but this is an exceptional situation and I feel that being intimate is appropriate. He shrugs his shoulders and tries to pull away, but I can feel he does it reluctantly.

“I love you, Hamid. Nothing will ever change that, no matter what my future will be like.”

“What about the others?” he asks, a little less sulkily.

“I love them too. Okay, dad not so much,” I shrug, “but for sure, you are my favourite sibling. What’s more, my very favourite relative.”

“Including the cousins?” he asks, and although I can’t see his face, I can hear from his voice that he is grinning.

I press a kiss on his back and let go of him.

“Including everyone,” I answer with a smile as he turns to face me. “I need your help. Please.”

He heaves a huge sigh, and shakes his head as though he knows he has lost the game.

“All right. I will do what I can, but won’t promise anything.”

“It’s enough for me if you promise that you will do what you can.”

“I promise,” he responds submissively.

＊

I’ve spent this morning with Sultan, and I haven’t felt so liberated for a long time as I have in the past hours. I have almost forgotten about time while I was riding, I only came to my senses when Selina came over and stopped me. While we feed Sultan, we’re discussing that it’s been three days Hamid promised to help with the birth certificate issue, but he hasn’t found out anything since. try my best not to be impatient, it’s already a miracle that he’s willing to help, but my nerves are killing me in the meantime.

My father pampers me to death, he even gave me a golden credit card so that I could go shopping and buy myself anything I like. He even offered that if I wanted to, I could pop over to Cairo with Nasirah and Rafa, accompanied by Hamid, or even to Paris, if that’s what I feel like doing. My interest flagged when he added that I should feel free to purchase anything I will need in my new household, as the sheikh’s wife. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if they were selling cyanide in Paris at the coolest shopping malls, but I finally managed to swallow my anger. It’s pointless to start an open fight with him, since I would be doomed to lose. My father is obviously trying to compensate me with his generosity, and thinks he can shut my mouth with gifts.

The sheikh has also sent me gifts, but he still hasn’t voiced a wish to meet me before the wedding. Is he so disinterested in whom he is about to marry? I would have a lot of questions to ask if we met, but it’s quite possible that my father is not insisting on a meeting due to my curious nature.

Selina’s voice takes me out of my musings.

“At least you can take Sultan with you when you move to Saud sheikh’s palace. After all, you can be sure that he likes horses too. My brother says he would never miss a race.” I look at her with a frown, because her remark brings something completely different to my mind.

“So, Saud sheikh would never miss a horse race?” Selina glances cautiously to the side, I can almost read her thoughts on her face, as she suspects that I have another crazy idea on my mind. ” I wonder when the next derby is in Sharjah.”

“You can’t possibly want to go to the derby. Are you insane? They would never let you enter without male company.”

“Then we must find male company.”

“That wouldn’t work either. Someone would definitely recognize you.”

“Then we need a different solution,” I say, chewing on my lip, but we both quickly go quiet, because the stable boy shows up and takes Sultan’s reigns from my hand.

I plant a kiss on the silky, soft spot on my little horse’s nose, lock arms with my friend, and start pulling her towards the houses.

“You’re right, I’d quite likely be recognized, and damned sure it would get into my father’s ears. We have to go there in secret, in disguise.”

“What’s in that sullen head of yours this time? I doubt you can get Hamid to do another crazy thing. He is already risking too much for you.”

“As it happens, I wasn’t thinking about Hamid,” I reply, lifting my eyebrows at her, “but your little brother, Rashid.”

She stares at me with big eyes, even freezes for a second, but I keep dragging her towards the house.

“But how could Rashid help you?”

“Your brother has recently turned eighteen, hasn’t he?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Then he would make an excellent male company.”

“You mean, to the derby? But it makes no sense, Amina. If we are with Rashid, they’ll still recognize us.”

“Not if instead of my own abaya, I go in men’s clothes.”

“Men’s… what?” she stares at me with her chin dropped.

“Think about it. This will be the best solution, this way no one will recognize me, and I can get near the sheikh. I will need a thobe, but Hamid is a head taller than me, and his shoulders are much broader too. If I was to borrow a piece from his wardrobe, it would look like a disaster on me. A thobe from Rashid would suit me much better.”

“You want to dress up as a man? What about your hair? Your breasts? They will spot them.”

“That’s a minor detail. We can work it out,” I wave with conviction. “The point is, we have to find out as soon as possible when the next derby is in Sharjah, and to get hold of a thobe from Rashid.”

As we enter my room, Selina drops onto a huge cushion and buries her face into her palms while I switch on my laptop.

“I’m seriously worried about you, Amina. You’re playing with fire and if you are caught, I don’t even dare think about what they will do to you.”

“Do you think I have a choice?” I spread my arms. “But honestly, do you think my father would say yes if I asked him to let me meet the sheikh? As soon as I mention the wedding, he closes up.” Selina shrugs her shoulders; she also knows how it is. “Would you be happy to marry Farid without having met him one time before your wedding?” I ask vehemently. Selina blinks at me sadly.

“No, of course not. I didn’t mean it that way, but…”

I heave a deep sigh, get up from the table and walk up to her. I squat in front of her, put my hand on her knee, then look into her eyes.

“You don’t need to come with me. You’re right, it is dangerous, I’d better not get you involved. If you wish, we can also leave Rashid out of it. I’ll try to obtain a thobe in some other way.”

She closes her eyes and softly shakes her head, but as she looks up again, a little smile is lurking at the corner of her lips. She tugs at my hair a bit, and lifts her eyes to the sky.

“Are you thinking I would let you do such madness on your own? I’m coming with you. Even though I might crap myself in the meantime,” she shrugs her shoulders, and I laugh out like an i***t.

“Are you sure about that?” I ask cautiously, and she playfully prods my shoulder.

“Dead serious! But I’m not so sure about Rashid anymore. I don’t know if we can trust him. I mean… I don’t suppose he would tell on us or anything, but he might refuse to help.”

Our gazes meet, and we just leer into each other’s faces for a few seconds. Our mouths slowly make a conspiratorial smile, at the same time.

The thing is, Rashid is two years younger than us, and because I have known him since his birth, I’ve always seen him as the little boy from next door. But I am Rashid’s weakness. Hell knows why, but he’s had a crush on me since his childhood, which is why I have managed to coax him into all kinds of nonsense. His attraction is a kind of open secret between our families, and Selina was often teasing the poor thing with it, as did their younger brother and Hamid too. I have never brought it up, it would have been too embarrassing, but it was hard not to notice those longing eyes that he as making at me as if I had been the most appetizing ice cream in the world that he would die to put his tongue into.

And that’s exactly the bonus I want to shamelessly benefit from now. If I ask him to help, he will not say no, and we knew it the moment Selina and I interlocked our gazes. Hence the conspiratorial smile.

Entering the Emirates’ horse races website, I soon find out that the heavenly beings are also with me, as the next derby in Sharjah will be tomorrow.

＊

My friend has done a perfect job, the thobe fits me like it had been tailor-made, no hair, no boobs. We have pinned my hair down, tugged it under a hair net, after which we put the white shemagh on, for the sake of security Selina has pressed the black agal on it. We have wrapped my upper body into silk a few times, which has pressed my breasts down enough that the bumps don’t show through the thobe. Then I put another sweater on to look a bit bulkier. It’s not very pleasant to be so padded, but I will endure those few hours, and anyway, I’ll do anything for the goal. I have put on trousers under the thobe, we have removed the polish from my nails, and we have cut them to their stem. It’s not a pretty sight, but what can we do. There was still one problem left. The beard. Or, more specifically, the lack of it. If we were to stick one up. It would look really stupid, and I would keep worrying that it might fall off. I hope they will buy that I’m an immature, underdeveloped teenage boy. To be on the safe side, Selina has drawn a few red spots on my face, for the sake of authenticity. We have agreed that if anybody asks, Rashid will introduce me as his cousin.