Strangers in the House by Shehadeh Raja

Author:Shehadeh, Raja
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Profile
Published: 2009-03-09T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE CONNECTION WAS bad. All I could hear was the faint pleading voice of my sister, Siham.

“Raja, come home.”

“Why?” I shouted into the receiver. “Why?”

“Your mother.”

“What about my mother?”

“Your mother wants you.”

“Why?”

“She is ill.”

“What is the matter with her?”

“Very very ill.”

“Is she alive?”

“Come back. Come back quickly. Don’t delay.”

“Please tell me the truth. Is she alive?”

“Come back as soon as you can. Come back.”

The voice trailed off and the line went dead. I was in tears. I was sure my mother must have died and my sister did not want to tell me the news in one blow. I had only one thought: I must leave. I must leave immediately.

The people at the office were very concerned. They had heard me shouting into the telephone. They saw the tears in my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” they asked.

“My mother,” I answered.

They tried to comfort me but I couldn’t listen. I had lost my head. “Where can I find a travel agent?” I asked.

“We’ll send someone with you,” the man said kindly.

I went back to Sri Pandit’s house and found Muneer waiting to hear my news. I told him that I must leave.

“Don’t be rash. Maybe she’s all right, why leave so suddenly without finding out more? Take a breath. Wait. Don’t be so rash.”

“I must leave. I must.”

“I think you should wait. I’m sure of it. Don’t be impulsive.” “I must leave. I cannot stay.”

I had sent my clothes for washing and was left with only one peach-colored linen shirt, which to this day I still have. It was the only thing I brought back with me from India.

I left Muneer standing despondent and perplexed and put myself in a cranky old cab hoping that it would not break down on the way. It was a long drive. The driver tried to speak to me but soon gave up. I wanted to be left alone with my thoughts. Most of the time I cried. I thought of Mother and felt a part of me dying. My mind kept returning to the fairy-tale reality she used to paint for me in her stories. Now she was gone and I would never fulfill her expectations. I had not cried like this for years.

But how did my sister know where to find me? When I wrote the letter to my father I did not know my address in India. Although I had said that I was only staying for a few months, my father must have read my letter as an announcement of a long-term abandonment of my former life. Siham later told me that it was this absence of a forwarding address that had upset my father most of all. He also told Siham that he was very busy with the case of Hilarion Cappuci, a Syrian Catholic bishop whom he was defending against an arms smuggling charge and that he could not be distracted at this time. She told him that he did not need to worry. She would find me and, if need be, she would go to India to look for me.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.