Part 26 (1/2)

Lovers always know if their love is true.

Even if we make mistakes, that's OK, as long as you tell me.

In Love and Feeling, she is the best teacher.

You're a maid. You are in charge of the children's moral education. You tell them, Don't lie and swear. After the bathroom, Wash your hands. So you teach me in love. Because you're honest and pure. And when you love, you love truly. This is the first time I've said that to you, but I felt it. Today, I felt it. If we weren't in love, would we feel that?

And let me be among her wards.

Don't those children have to drink their milk? And don't you feed it to them? I want to drink it! Feed me like your children!

Because she is the most beautiful teacher, And in strength, she won't be forgotten.

I can't forget you.

In our first words When we first met She was the one who offered.

You drove up to the station. You offered me apples.

And the children of the desert, You know the children of the desert, they're the ones who've grown in the desert. But here, it means this city.

In a place no one enters but the weak.

Meaning the police station. Who enters the station? Criminals and past criminals. What are criminals? They're weak of morals, this makes them weak.

And the cruel, deranged.

In the prisons, you see a lot of cruel, deranged men.

And heaven's meek.

The criminals come to the station, and here they are made meek. I'm describing the station to you.

And they ask, scared and humble, Like all humanity, calling.

They are scared. They ask, Will I die here? Will I live to be free? I'm describing the station. But I don't like to say the word ”station,” so I describe it to you instead.

And in that place, in her offering, I found happiness.

You gave me apples. My friends were going for cigarettes. I told them, Cancel! Cancel! And I watched you-What was your position? You were sitting here. And Mohammed, here. And I came and stood next to your car, and you should have given the apples to Mohammed, he looked like the one in charge because he had the most b.u.t.tons, but you didn't, you gave them to me, and your face was just like a jasmine. I'm coming, Nisrine. Please believe me, I'm coming. There's trouble. I read it today, in the interview with Bea's tutor; he gave away Baba, he gave information, did Bea tell him? Don't worry, I've taken that interview, I'm going to hide it, but I worry the police have already read it. If they come, I will be with them, I'll protect Baba, like I protect you. Wait for me, Nisrine, I can still feel your kisses, they bloom inside me, I will always protect you, I will always come for you, and I will never leave you. I'm a policeman. I'm your policeman, I'm coming!

And, if only he had come. If only we would have seen this poem, had some news, some warning-of course, we didn't. Before Adel could send it, his father found it. It was only sent years later, without the interview, when Adel came upon it and, having a different view of words and poems by then, bundled all of them up together and sent them to the only person he knew who might still love them: me.

WE WAITED ALL NIGHT and the next day for him to come for Nisrine. A whole day was the longest Adel had ever been gone from the roof.

But, we were hopeful.

We didn't know what had happened, and so we said to each other, ”It's taking a little longer, that's all.” He had ridden a rope to see her. ”He'll come.”

SNOW.

AFTER THE RAIN IT SNOWED, just as we thought spring was here. It never snowed in this city. It never snowed in April.

The snow came early in the morning and stayed until evening, a faint white dusting. On the news, they warned of death from the temperature drop. At Madame's, we all ran to the kitchen window to watch the snowflakes. Nisrine and I looked for Adel.

The children wanted to go down and see the snow. They opened the window and stuck out their fingers to feel it. Dounia opened another window and hit Abudi's head in her excitement, which made him almost cry.

To make up for locking me in yesterday, Madame let me take the children down to buy tampons and junk food. Nisrine helped us put on our hoods. Dounia whined for us to wait while she tied her shoes. We waited. Lema helped her. Madame videotaped us getting ready. Dounia waved at the camera and danced around like a snowflake. We crossed the street to the convenience store and asked for Tampax, and potato chips and gum. Then, we came straight back to the apartment because we knew Madame was watching, but Dounia didn't want to go in yet, she wanted to play longer in the snow. It was falling on our hair. It was falling on the balcony, and Madame's camera. It left dirty marks from the dust where it landed on Lema's white veil.

”Come on, Dounia.” Abudi and Lema and I got in the elevator. Dounia stood outside looking at us. We closed the elevator door and rode up to the apartment without her.

Madame opened the door.

”Where's Dounia?” So Abudi went down to get her and bring her back up, while Lema and I s.h.i.+vered and giggled and stripped off our layers, cold and happy from the unexpected snow.

Nisrine found me in the hallway. ”Did you see him?”

She meant when I was down in the snow, had I seen Adel? I hadn't. I had looked.

She sighed. ”He'll come. Anyway, he promised to send a sign if there was trouble.”

The snow came, and like the rain, it brought police. Moni called to tell us the police had surrounded our building. Nisrine and I looked at each other. Adel had promised to help her and Baba. Yesterday, those promises had seemed possible. Now, I took them out in the glare of the melting snow and looked at them again; could a young policeman do all this?

Madame sat silently at the table, sipping her afternoon coffee. First she drank her cup. Then she drank Baba's because he was too busy.

There was a knock at the door. The phone was ringing. In the living room, Baba, who had been to jail before and knew his whole life that at any moment the police might come again, put a finger to his lips to silence the children. He hunted in the closet for his pa.s.sport.

”Lema,” he said, ”get your scarf.” Then he called for Madame to get water and her scarf, too.

I said, ”We'll help, Baba.”

Nisrine stood behind me, pale but hopeful.

Moni called again. Another friend was also being taken.

”What do we do?”