The Rebel

Amina-4

When Rashid sits into the café leaving Selina and I alone, she suddenly turns to face me and begins to question me with a sympathetic voice.

“Well, what do you think about him?”

I look at her, and see on from her facial expression that she actually knows the answer, she just wants to make sure her instincts are right.

“Absolutely out of the question that I’ll be the sheikh’s wife. Full stop.”

“And how do you think that could happen? I really get that you don’t like him,” she glances to the side with understanding, “but Amina… what could you do?” she raises, then drops her shoulders with discouragement, while frustration and helplessness are raging inside me. What could I do? I simply can’t get myself to say it… to surrender to fate. We stop near the toilets, and leaning against the counter, we both stare at the door. I can’t walk inside just like that. What if somebody is inside, and I casually enter in men’s clothing?

“I don’t know that myself yet,” I answer at last with a sigh. “But I must think of something to stop it.”

“I wish I could help! I wish I could do something for you,” she lifts big eyes at me, and at this point I really want to hold her, because sympathy and sisterly love are just radiating from her. Of course, it’s out of the question here, in public, so I just give her a sad little smile, and nod my head towards the door of the toilet.

“Right now, it would be enough if you could see if the coast is clear in the toilet. We must hurry, Omar will be here soon.”

“Okay,” she nods with a sigh. “I’ll let you know when you can come.”

I look around, study the shiny shop windows, the blindingly glittering marble floor. Now, in the evening, there are a lot more people at RAK than a few hours ago. It won’t be easy for me to sneak into the women’s toilet unnoticed. Just as I begin to worry about this, the door slams open, and a black burqa-clad mother comes out with a three-year-old boy, and not long after, three young women, dress in European style, walk inside. I begin to feel nervous. I can’t dilly-dally here forever; I can’t risk running into Omar or someone else who knows me while I’m still wearing these clothes. The door opens again, Selina peeks through it, shakes her head, then pulls it back inside. My fingers are drumming nervously on the bar, I’m beginning to lose my patience. Finally, the door opens again, and the three girls walk out through it. They are so loud, laughing so openly, they can only be foreigners. Not long after them Selina beckons that I can come inside. It’s now or never. As I stretch out my hand towards the door handle, it already opens up from inside, and Selina nothing short of yanks me inside. She quickly pushes me towards one of the cubicles.

“Go in here, and do not stick your nose out until I say so!” she whispers, even though we are totally on our own.

“What about my clothes?”

“Let me just fetch them. Start taking your clothes off.”

I follow suit. I remove the agal and the shemagh from my head, then free my hair from under the net. It feels heavenly. I get out of the thobe, take off the sweater, and start feeling lighter and lighter. The trousers are also off me now, but I can’t deal with the knot of the silk wrapped around my body. Impatiently, I yank at the knot, but it won’t let go. As I stand there dressed in underwear and my trainers, panic comes over me for a moment. I begin to think, what if my clothes are gone? Someone may have removed them from under the counter. Or simple, the tape has let go, they fell to the floor, and someone dropped them into the bin. And the bin has been emptied since. At this point, the door slowly opens, and Selina sticks inside the little package with my clothes. Thank heaven! Heaving a big sigh, with shaking hands, I begin to unwrap the nylon.

“Wait, I’ll help,” she says, stepping beside me in the cubicle. “Are you alright?” she looks at me with suspicion, seeing my shaking hands, while beginning to undo the knot on the silk.

“Yes, it’s just that…” I shrug my shoulders. “I thought what if my clothes are gone. How would we have gone home then?”

Selina starts unrolling the material from me, folding it with skill, and putting it into the plastic bag. It feels like being born again. It felt as if a ton of weight was suddenly lifted from my chest. I fill my lungs with air and hold it in for a while. At last!

Meanwhile, Selina is beginning to smooth down my abaya.

“That wouldn’t have been the end of the world either,” she says, shaking her head. “After all, we are in a shopping mall, aren’t we?”

In thought, I slap my forehead. Of course! How stupid I am.

“Oh hell. You’re right,” I murmur while slipping into the abaya. “That reminds me, we should really buy something, now that we’ve theoretically spent half a day at RAK. My mother and Rafa will insist on seeing what I have bought. It would look really stupid if I went home empty-handed.

Selina spins around, and stares into my face with shock.

“Damn. I haven’t thought about that. You’re right. We must buy something.”

“And we must hurry,” I say panting, while arranging the clothes on myself, and Selina presses me down onto the lid to fix my face. “Omar will be here to pick us up.”

“Okay, but I can’t exactly leave you in this state,” she rolls her eyes, and takes her makeup stuff out of her bag. With a cotton pad she removes the eyeliner from my eyebrows, and with a wet tissue she removes the light eyeliner from my eyelashes.

“Have you also removed the fake spot?” I ask half-jokingly, at which her hand pauses and she looks at me with a frown.

“Why would I? It really suits you. Makes you look so cute.”

“All right, stop it.” I roll my eyes, although I know she’s just joking. She’s trying to ease my tension, and I kind of appreciate that. The stress that has been tightening my stomach since morning is finally leaving me. The risky part is over, we will be fine from now on.”

“Do you want me to…” she begins, holding the mascara and the eyeliner in front of me.

“Just leave it,” I wave. My least worry now is whether I’m wearing makeup or not. “It’s more important now that we buy a few things to give us an excuse.”

The door opens, and we both listen, petrified, while a few people are entering the bathroom. Selina puts the men’s clothes into her bag, and we wait silently until we hear that all the people have gone into a cubicle. Just then, Selina opens the door, looks outside, and waves to me to follow her. I still take the first steps as if I was up to no good. By the time we reach the door I realize there’s nothing to fear now, I am myself again, and it’s perfectly fine that I’m stepping out of the female toilet. I take a deep breath, fold my arm into my friend’s, and we share a smile. There’s so much in this smile. A union. A conspiracy. Loyalty and a bit of bitterness regarding the exposed nature of our fates. As we make our way towards the café, I can’t help but to make a remark.

“Did you notice how the young sheikh was staring?”

Selina’s arm jerks under mine: a sign that I have touched a weak spot.

“At whom?”

“Whom do you think?” I snigger. “Not the spotty-faced youngster.

“Amina!” she says my name with an intonation as if she was my mother.

“You, dear. He was staring at you, so much that I thought his stare was going to drill a whole into your veil.

“Come on,” she says, forcing disbelief, but as we look at one another, I can see that her eyes are glittering with excitement, and she is desperate to hear more about Ahmad sheikh. Quietly, she speaks again: “Seriously?”

“Of course,” I nod with conviction. “He liked you, no doubt about that. I mean, he liked the little bit that he could see of you,” I say shrugging, with resignation. Why is life so complicated in this country? “And you liked him too, right?”

“No,” she answers much too quickly, at which laughter bursts from both of us.

“Uh-huh,” I shake my head doubtfully, and I would have quite a lot more to add, but by this time we have reached Rashid’s table, and Selina gives me a warning nudge.

“What took so long?” he asks as he scans us both, and his gaze settles on me instead of on his sister.

“What do you think? We couldn’t go into the female toilet just like that. We had to wait until the coast was clear,” Selina explains. Rashid scratches his forehead as if he was only getting it now. “And now we need to buy a few things.”

“What?” the heartfelt despair breaks from the poor boy.

“We must buy some stuff, Rashid. Otherwise, it would be suspicious that we’ve spent so much time at RAK without buying anything. It won’t take too long, I promise. Besides, Omar will be here any moment now.

“All right,” he shrugs, “but I’d rather wait here.”

“Sure, no problem,” I answer with a smile, but I don’t add that I was thinking exactly the same.

“Don’t go too far,” he says, obviously to avoid his eighteen-year-old man’s dignity to suffer.

At a good speed, I make progress between the lines of clothing, and without much interest, I throw a long, yellow piece with huge flowers into my basket – which Selina immediately takes out with disgust, and puts back to its place.

“It wouldn’t hurt to stay authentic,” she notes, nodding towards the dress.

She’s got a point, it really wasn’t my style, but my brain is full of other things that I find it hard to focus on such details. She takes a pale green, figure-hugging summer dress off the hook, holds it against me for a moment, then nods and throws it into the basket.

“What do you think about him?” I ask inquisitively, while we walk on, and Selina removes more and more clothes from the line.

“About the sheikh?”

“The junior,” I add, rolling my eyes.

She shrugs her shoulders, but I can see that her eyes are smiling.

“He seems nice. Somehow… there is something about him… that makes him attractive in the first second. Maybe his voice and his… smile.” The words are suddenly flooding from her lips, and I can only agree. I had the same impression about him. It was his voice that caught me first, then his smile.

“I agree. He looked absolutely kind and likeable, at first glance.” Unlike his father, I add inside, with frustration. “And he liked you too.”

You’re overthinking it, Amina,” she says with a sigh, and throws another blouse into the basket. “And anyhow, even if it’s true, it means nothing. Ahmad al-Hosani sheikh is a direct relative of the emir. His rank is way higher above mine. Why would he show interest for me, of all people?”

“Oh, stop it, Selina! Ahmad can show interest for anyone he likes, exactly due to his rank. He is not confined by need or necessity. He can marry whomever he wants. I think you should meet. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if now he tried to get as much information about you out of Rashid as he could.”