Cairo in White by Kelly Ann Jacobson

Author:Kelly Ann Jacobson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kelly Ann Jacobson
Published: 2015-03-12T18:28:19+00:00

Chapter 11

America, May 1993

Suma came to visit when Aisha turned six. It was only her second time visiting, and Zahra could not help thinking of the first time when she had first rented a bedroom from Charlotte and Malena. That time Suma had stayed only one night in a hotel, after which she never came back. Visiting would have been too painful. Zahra was gone from her life, simply a distant memory of a late night tea, and Suma was a ghost of the strong woman she used to know.

When she saw her sister across the airport terminal, the first thing Zahra noticed was how old she looked. Her body had lost all of its shape beneath the layers of loose skin and weight and her eyes, normally bright blue, were dark like water beneath a slick sheen of oil. Zahra’s first reaction was to try to peel it all away, to unwrap her sister like a gift from old newspaper, to find what might still remain there as embers glowing at the center. She embraced the new Suma anyway, then gave her the chance to hug Aisha, who looked lost with her skinny arms sticking out from Suma’s sides like a scarecrow’s. Aisha emerged alive but seemed slightly dizzy from the tight squeeze. Her daughter had already begun to enter the tomboy stage.

“Welcome back,” Zahra said to Suma in Egyptian Arabic, as though she had been gone on a short vacation. Zahra had to think that way, in short intervals, or else she might cling to her sister and never let her leave again. She added as an afterthought, “I missed you very much.” It was true, though the pain of it had faded years ago.

“Zahra…” Suma started, but no words came out, and she just looked at her sister.

“It’s okay.” Zahra put her hand on Suma’s back because she could not reach her arm all the way around her sister’s waist. “We have the entire day to talk.”

On Aisha’s request, they decided to spend the day in a large park in Virginia that she and her mother visited on weekends. Zahra’s son Nor often opted out of their adventures, choosing instead to sit on one of his friend’s couches and play video games. Zahra could not help indulging him, even at six years old, when he spoke of the misery of the park—the pollen, the bugs, the dirty water—and the importance of reaching the next level of some dragon slayer game she had bought him a few weeks ago. Aisha, on the other hand, was identical to Zahra as a child. She could play in a pile of dirt for hours without getting bored. Zahra loved to watch her daughter find the adventures of the forest, as she would have, had there been such luscious expenses of vegetation in Cairo. Sometimes Zahra joined her, gallivanting through the trees or kicking up stones. Most of the time, she watched from the distance and let the waters of her memories rise around her, mirroring the stream she sat by.

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