The Rebel

Amina-2

“Amina!” she whispers warningly under her nose, in the meantime, hardly managing to hold her laughter back.

“I think it’s more exciting if one of them, the man is more skilled, and knows exactly how to make her happy. He can teach her things, explain what those practices are with which she can satisfy his— “

As I get to this point, Selina is suddenly taken aback, and our shoulders collide strongly. I give her an inquisitive look, but she stares ahead as if hypnotized, and points in front of herself with her finger. I follow her stare, and suddenly I freeze too. I see Rashid talking to a young man and directly beside him, Saud sheikh is standing. I recognize his face at once. Good heavens! What’s Rashid up to beside the sheikh? The whole room turns upside down with me, so I quickly grab Selina’s elbow. She turns towards me, and surely sees the panic on my face, but she looks just as desperate.

“What the hell is Rashid doing? I didn’t know he knew the sheikh,” I hiss between my teeth.

“He doesn’t. I have no idea what he’s doing,” Selina whispers back, and just then, Rashid notices us.

His face stretches long, and although we stand too far from each other for me to hear what he is saying, I can see that he suddenly goes quiet, and studies me with narrowed eyes. While we face one another, the recognition splits me that I am fully and completely in his hands. I am totally exposed to him, and he felt like it, he could reveal me here and now. If by any chance he wanted to take revenge on me for never taking him seriously and always treating him like a little boy, he has been offered the perfect opportunity. What’s more, I myself have given him the chance to ruin me. Would he be able to betray me? After all, he’s just a man too, and if he needed to decide which side to stand on in a moral issue, without any illusions I can say he would choose the men’s side. My legs are wobbling like jelly, it’s a good thing the thobe covers them. In thought I prepare for the worst as Rashid slowly starts towards us. An icy feeling of horror runs down my spine at the thought that he might yank the shemagh off my head, and my long hair slides out from under the net, then he would rip the thobe off me, and the fraud would be revealed for everyone to see. When he stops in front of us, I close my eyes for a moment and wait for the world to end, but instead, I hear Selina questioning him.

“How the hell did you find yourself beside the sheikh? You didn’t say you were going to have a chat with him.”

My eyes pop open, I fix my gaze on Rashid who just keeps shrugging his shoulders, scratching his non-existent facial hair.

“I wasn’t planning that either, but I accidentally ran into Ahmad.”

“Who?” Selina asks with wonder.

“Ahmad is the sheikh’s son and we were going to Repton together for a while.”

I’m beginning to calm down somewhat, because I don’t get the feeling Rashid wants to betray me. You can hear in his voice that he’s also a bit nervous about the situation, yet he keeps himself to the plan.

“Keep to the plan, Rashid! You know how careful we have to be,” his sister warns him, at which he frowns and gives her an angry look.

“I’m no fool,” he answers sulkily, and since I’m well aware how much we depend on his good will, I try to change the subject.

“And what were you talking about?”

He gazes at me and his expression loosens up.

“The race. They have two camels running in the next one,” he shrugs his shoulders. “And he also asked me who I am with.”

“What did you say?” we ask in unison.

“I said I have come with my sister and cousin brother,” he straightens his torso, so now he actually looks much taller, as if he is indeed the alpha male of the group.

“Good. It’s all right then.”

“There is a little problem, though,” he scratches the back of his neck. “He has invited us to their box to watch the race from there.”

We are quiet for a while; it looks like we are all brooding over the information. It would be very impolite to turn down the invitation, so that’s out of the question. After all, coming to think of it, didn’t I come here to take a close look at the sheikh?

“What do we do now?” Selina looks at me, clueless.

“We don’t really have a choice. We have to go there,” Rashid answers for me, glancing towards Ahmad, who beckons to him in a friendly manner.

“Not that we should fear that Saud sheikh will recognize me,” I remark spitefully. “So far he hasn’t even made the effort to take a look in person at his future wife.”

“That’s actually true,” Selina pulls her face.

“Just don’t open your mouth, and we’ll be all right,” Rashid adds.

“And what if he asks me something? Should I not answer, or how did you mean it?” I raise my eyebrows.

We don’t get a chance to respond, because Ahmad calls Rashid’s name, and beckons towards himself. We start walking reluctantly, Rashid at the front, and us two behind him. I force myself not to stare at the floor, but I would be able to look the men in the eye, in spite of myself. The sheikh is talking to another man, and beside Ahmad a twenty-something-year-old, chubby man is standing. They are leaning close to each other and laugh at something. As we stop in front of them, Selina lifts her veil to cover her face, and my hand also moves to do the same when I realize I’m not wearing a hijab. I’m a man now, and have to act like one – I remind myself, and swallowing the huge lump in my throat, I lift my chin to face the men.

As we stop in front of them, I get very close to swooning. All kinds of bullshit flashes through my mind that I have committed since childhood, and have to admit this one is beyond them all. What the hell was I thinking? How did this k******e challenge come into my mind, with the disguise? Damn true, I will be caught. This is the end.

Ahmad speaks first, his voice is strangely low for his age, even pleasant, soothing. He reminds me of my brother, Hamid. I look up, consciously focus on him without looking at the sheikh. Hmm. He’s not ugly, as a matter of fact, the young al-Hosani is definitely good-looking. He has a nice smile, and his deep brown eyes radiate warmth, it feels good to look into them. He is taller than his father and much more attractive too – I muse to myself while, benefitting from the men’s clothing, I check him out thoroughly. I glance at Selina, who is gazing at the young sheikh from under her eyelashes, while he is talking to the others. I bet she has also spotted how good-looking he is, and just like me, she has also been impressed by his charm. The difference is that while I shamefully take delight in the sight of his face, Selina can only observe him very carefully, lifting her head occasionally. She likes him, I notice that at once, but I oppress the smile that is about to spread on my face.

Ahmad introduces Rashid to his father, and when he mentions his family name, al-Nuaimi, the sheikh nods with contentment.

“As-salamu 'alaikum, brother,” Rashid says with an insecure but respectful voice.

They shake hands, and based on the Bedouin tradition, make their noses touch.

“Wa 'alaikum as-salam, younger brother,” the sheikh responds.

His voice is high-pitched and a little sophisticated. Not as pleasant as his son’s. Rashid then turns his head towards me, while Selina moves halfway behind my back. I know that next Rashid will introduce me to the sheikh. There is nothing else he can do, since we are together, and it would be a great dishonour if he didn’t do that.

“This is my cousin, Aa— “, he points to me, but as he begins to utter my name, his voice breaks, and I break out in sweat.

We weren’t prepared for that. We didn’t expect that we would speak to the sheikh in person, so of course we didn’t agree on a man’s name for me. Oh my God, Rashid! Just say something. Anything!

“Asad,” he blurts out at last, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry in my misery.

I still hardly have the courage to look at the sheikh, and in the meantime, Rashid is giving me signals with his eyes that I should extend my arm for a greeting. The sheik is fixing his gaze on me, and I, at this moment would give anything for that robe that makes one invisible, the one I have read so much about in fairy tale books, when I was younger. My arm feels like it’s made of lead, I can hardly lift it up. We touch each other, for the first time, I feel my future husband’s skin on mine. My hand is lost in his palm, his touch is cool. I don’t even know what I was expecting, but I’m not feeling anything at all. Rashid’s eyes are about to pop out, sweat is streaming down from under his shemagh, even though it’s not warm at all in this air-conditioned room. I have to speak up, whatever it takes. Finally, I squeeze out of myself with a voice as low as I can muster, without making it sound hilarious:

“As-salamu 'alaikum, brother.”

Now I am supposed to lean over and rub my nose against his as a form of respect, but I feel paralyzed. Selina pushes my back, and that helps me sober up.

“Wa 'alaikum as-salam,” he answers, and as our noses meet, I swear to myself, this has been my first and last touch with the sheikh. His breath has a strong smell of tobacco, but it doesn’t surprise me. I’m not disgusted with it, since my father also smokes, even the pipe. I hardly know anything about him, I don’t have a specific reason to hate him, yet, I can clearly feel that we can never have anything to do with one another.

When we are done with the greetings, Rashid also gives me a push, but I know it’s not out of rudeness. This is his way of helping me escape from the line of fire.

“This is my sister, Selina,” he jabs a finger towards her. Now nothing more than her eyes can be seen from the niqab.

The sheikh gives her no more than a glance, he nods his head, then turns back to Rashid. Ahmad sets his eyes on Selina a bit longer than his father did, he even tilts his head to the side with interest as he sizes her up. My eyes are also shifting between the two of them. What the heck? Before it becomes inappropriate, he also turns away and joins the men’s conversation. I silently pray none of them would ask me any questions, but luckily Ahmad remarks that the next round is about to start, so the sheikh points to the box and politely signals to the group to follow him. While they start walking, deep in discussion, Selina and I stare at one another, clueless, then follow them unwillingly. We step into the private box-looking places which are walled with glass from all sides, and I suddenly think there will be too little room here for all of us. But just then Ahmad and his friend start leaving, so that they can watch the game inside their car, from the road beside the tracks. I can’t help but notice that on leaving us, Ahmad thoroughly checks Selina out one more time, almost pushing over a chair over.