Part 14 (2/2)
I got up to follow Nisrine, but Madame grabbed my hand. ”Stay here with me, Bea.”
She sent Dounia to go check on Nisrine, and see if she was doing the mopping. ”Go see where she is, Dounia. I can't bear to look at her.”
The gas crept over our apartment and got into all the furniture. It seeped into the afghans. It clung to the embroidered wall hanging: G.o.d Save This Home. It seeped from the moist bathroom. It lingered in the closets and the fresh pillowcases: She could have killed us.
It was Nisrine. It was an accident, it could have happened to anyone.
Nisrine drew hearts in the air on the balcony, Madame had seen her.
She could have killed us, the gas seemed to say.
When Baba came home from work, Nisrine had packed her bag. The children and I were still up, so Madame herded all of us out the door, into the car where Baba was waiting. Nisrine sat on one end beside me and Dounia didn't sit on her lap, Dounia sat on Lema's lap. There was a traffic jam.
”Are you OK?” I asked.
Nisrine didn't say anything. She hadn't said anything all day, since Madame said she wanted a new one. I had tried to think of things to make it better. I had said, We don't want a new one. Neither Nisrine nor Madame was listening.
We sat very still in the car, until Abudi remembered he had an appointment with the dentist to tighten his braces today, and we had forgotten to take him. There was a flurry while everyone tried to decide who to blame.
”Now you remember? Now you remember?”
”What kind of mother are you, anyway?”
”Abudi Kareem, you have a cell phone. Program your cell phone.”
Nisrine sat quietly, with a determined face. The traffic moved very little. When we were close, Baba double-parked and he and Madame got out.
Madame said, ”Don't worry about the rest of your things, Nisrine. I'll bring them to you tomorrow. Just take your pajamas to sleep in.”
Nisrine didn't move.
”Where's she going?” I asked.
Madame said, ”Hurry, Nisrine.”
”Nisrine, where are you going?”
Baba opened the back door so Nisrine could get out. He reached down to take her bag in one hand and carefully closed the door behind her with the other.
Nisrine said, ”You are like my father.” He was facing the children and me through the car window.
”You stay here,” he told us. ”Bea, watch them.” He made sure the doors were locked from the outside.
Nisrine said, ”I love your children like my children.”
Dounia and Lema and Abudi and I watched out the back window as they left. None of us knew where Nisrine was going. None of us knew if she would be back. One minute, we had been eating chocolates in our living room. The next, we were here; it all seemed very sudden.
We watched her small back bob between Madame and Baba. Normally, Nisrine was very strong, she lifted large pots of boiled meat by herself, but her suitcase looked heavy for her. Halfway to the building, Baba stopped and tried to take it, but she wouldn't let him.
In the car, Lema's hair kept coming undone beneath her veil.
Lema said, ”Dounia, help me do my hair.” You could see the ends of her ponytail sticking out.
Still looking out the car window, Dounia stuck Lema's ponytail down the back of her s.h.i.+rt.
”Not like that,” Lema said. She pushed Dounia's hand away. ”Stupid.”
Lema took off her coat and threw it over her head, to fix her veil in secret. Dounia tapped the coat. ”Is it fixed yet, Lema?”
”Leave me alone!”
Dounia and Abudi both pounded on the coat.
”Is it fixed yet, Lema!”
”Ooh, you're so stupid!”
In my head, I made trades. All the vocabulary words I knew, for Nisrine to come back. What did vocabulary matter? It could be learned again. There was no one like Nisrine.
Lema came out from under the coat. Her veil didn't look any different, except there was no hair coming out the bottom now.
Nisrine used to fix Lema's veil. She once sewed a miniature white one for Dounia's Barbie.
I thought how hard she had been trying. I thought of Adel. I tried not to think of Adel. I thought of us linking arms, waving.
She'll be back, I thought, to rea.s.sure myself.
Abudi said, ”Let's open the door and close it again.”
I said, ”Leave it alone, Abudi.”
She'll be back, she'll be back.
Abudi climbed into the front seat. We looked for Madame and Baba. The cars were going around us, because Baba had double-parked, and he was taking up a driving lane.
Eventually, she did come back. She still had her black bag, and she walked between Madame and Baba. Baba was smiling. Madame wasn't.
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