Chương 13: The Porch
When I told her, I couldn't hear my own voice, I didn't know what I said, and I saw her hand went up to her mouth, eyes wide. She didn't have the right words to say, there was nothing to say. What could she have said, that it was going to be okay? Because no it wasn't. Nothing was going to be okay, it would only get worse. Because I was alone in this.
And then it occured to me.
I looked up at Ramsha. "Adil." My mouth worked on its own accord. "Adil." I found myself repeating, and then I got up from the bed. My feet took me to the door, leaving Rmasha in the room, I ran out of the lounge where everybody sat chatting and eating snacks. Out on the porch, I scanned the front garden, but Adil wasn't there. The path at the left took me to the swimming area. There were some fifth year boys reclined on chaise lounges laughing and drinking, among which I recognized one face as the one who Adil had crashed our night session with. Ignoring the fact that all the boys were shirtless, I went up to them and looking the guy in the eye I asked if he knew where Adil was.
"Oh," he quirked an eyebrow. "Want to have a swim with him again?" The other boys snickered.
Had it been any other occasion, I knew I would have flushed, would have been affected by the comment. There was only one emotion I felt pulsating in my veins right now - helplessness. "Where is he?" I repeated my question.
"I'm sure he wouldn't want to see you, Mashal Niazi, why not just leave?" He shrugged, taking a sip of what seemed to me like beer from the glass he'd been holding.
I didn't want to know how he knew my name, I only felt the urge to smash that glass on his head. "Do you know where he is or not?"
He opened his mouth to respond but before he could have replied, I heard him behind me. "What do you want?"
I whipped around only to find him equally naked as the others. I inhaled deeply and said with the best possible calm voice I could manage – I didn't want to cry in front of him, "Can we talk?"
He didn't make an effort to hide his disdain. His features contorted into an expression of annoyance. "Now what do you want? Did he tell you something else that-"
I glanced back at the others. "Not here ... please. It's urgent."
"For heaven's sake, Mashal, spare me." My jaw clenched. "I want nothing to do with you or your entire freaking family, okay?"
I tucked my lower lip between my teeth to stop it from wobbling. Clenching and unclenching my fingers in an effort to repress the bursting emotions, I gave a small nod. "I get it. I do. But please, Adil, hear me out just this once." I had never ever implored to anyone in my life before, but drastic moments bring out the most vulnerable parts of you.
Nothing on his face changed. "What?" He said with the same frustration.
"Not here." I shook my head.
His lips thinned, he breathed heavily through his nose and started to his right. I followed him to the side of the bungalow where he stopped and turned to face me. "Yes?"
I didn't know where to start, what to say. Averting my gaze, I raked my mind searching for the right words.
"For God's sake, I don't have all day." He snapped, his eyebrows drawn in a frown.
I bit my lower lip and said, "Some people took Bisma. She wasn't even here. She had gone to the northern area for a trip with her friends. Those people called Father and demanded 10 million. I don't-"
"It wasn't me." He interrupted.
"I know! I just- Adil, Father had an heart attack and-"
"Why are you telling me this?" Regarding me with a cold look, he asked, his tone flat.
"I don't know what to do." I admitted, shaking my head.
"So?" He raised an eyebrow.
His sheer indifference kicked me in the gut when I was already down. "I need your help."
Adil laughed, and I stared at him dumbfounded. "You are wasting your time. I'm not your friend. I don't give a shit what happens to you, your sister or your father."
It asked for a load of effort to let his last comment go, to not mind, to not be offended. Bad times make you act pathetic. "But you are family." I hated myself as I said in a quiet voice, not looking him in the eye.
But he fluidly shrugged it off and walked away. My heart sank as I saw his retreating figure. He had stepped on the flickering flame of the candle, the only source of light, plunging everything around into absolute darkness.
---
I didn't know what to do. I wished I didn't have to go through this. Informing the police was out of the question, I couldn't risk it. If the kidnappers got to know, they'd probably wouldn't hesitate pulling the trigger on the spot. I was totally on my own. When I had gotten back to the room, Bilal was there, and one look at his face and I knew Ramsha had told him. I didn't even have the energy to express my disapproval. He pulled me into a hug, maybe wondering if I wanted to cry. But I didn't, crying was not going to help me in any way, and that was the only thing I desperately needed at that moment - help. With my head resting on his chest, heat from him providing what little comfort it could in such a situation, I felt Bisma slipping away from me.
"Maybe you could call your father's lawyer," Ramsha spoke up after what seemed to me like a couple of hours since we'd been sitting on the porch steps, "or someone you can trust. They can take all the money from his account and get it delivered somehow and bring Bisma back with them, I don't know. I don't know Mashal."
Bilal squeezed my hand lightly, the one that he had been holding. "Or if you want to do it yourself, we can leave right now, go to your house, get your father's checkbook, take the money from the bank and then head straight to the location they've given. We'll only hand them the money once they've let Bisma go."
After listening to them both, I said firmly. "No Bilal, you're not going to involve yourself in this." It was the only thing that was clear in my mind - my friends were not going to risk their lives. I needed help, but not from someone who was as inexperienced in the dealings of such matters as I was. If Allah forbid the kidnappers were the kind of people who'd take the pleasure of rape and kill and run off with the money, I'd make sure I meet the same fate as Bisma would. Because to live with the anguish of what she went through, would be more unbearable than meeting the same end, for I would no longer be alive to have to bear it. There would be no guilt, no pain.
"I'm not going to let you do anything alone, let me make that clear." Bilal replied sternly.
I looked at him, unconsciously brushing his hand with my thumb, the one that I held, our fingers entwined. "I wasn't going to."
"Are you planning something?" Ramsha asked from my right.
"Muneer Abid, I'll go to him. He's Father's close friend. I'm sure he'll help, or direct me to someone better."
"Okay," Bilal nodded, "then I'll take you to him."
I didn't reply. I wanted to, I had to tell him I could go by myself, but something caught my eye and breath caught up in my throat. I thought I felt my heart skip a beat. A car was curving down the driveway and when it reached the gates, it pulled up. The window of the driver's seat rolled down and I impulsively rose to my feet when my eyes caught the sight of Adil. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the passengers' seat at his right. Without wasting a breath, I started forwards but was pulled back with a light tug by Bilal. He had caught my wrist. I turned to look at him and saw his eyes swarming with a mix of emotions, as if he wanted to say that he didn't trust Adil and was also wary of expressing his resentment for him at the same time because I might take offence.
"Please." I beseeched, my eyebrows drawn, voice low.
He immediately let go, backing a step as if withdrawing from his own will to honour mine. I felt how immensely heartwarming his actions were, deserving acknowledgement, gratitude and praise, but I wondered if the circumstances would ever let me glow in them. For it not to hurt me more than it already was, I turned and started towards the car Adil sat waiting for me in.
I opened the door once I reached and climbed in. With a jerk he started the car forwards when I hadn't even pulled the door back in. It made me realise he was only helping me grudgingly. The fact that he was helping me at all was enough for me though, especially after what Father had done to Adil's father, and his own brother.
Adil drove the car out through the gates and towards the avenue after taking a turn to the left. As we moved forth, nobody spoke, he didn't try to provide the excuse for his change of mind and even though I wanted to know, I didn't probe for I already felt indebted to him, and you can't bring yourself to meet the gaze of the person you owe.
"Thank you." I murmured, wringing my fingers.
"I'd rather we not talk." I heard him say and looked up to find his gaze on the road ahead, hands firmly clasped around the steering wheel.
"Do you think you can ever at least-"
He didn't let me finish. "No. I told you what I wanted you to do, but if you can't do that, you're equally guilty for me."
I nodded my head. It was only fair. "I really loved-"
"Love is acted out Mashal, not spoken about." He glanced at me and turned his attention back to the road. "You don't know what I went through, you don't know how my mother coped. And I don't want you to know. But at least realise that talking about it is easy when you don't understand what it's like. I am only doing this, helping you, because if I can really do something and I don't do it, I'll be the reason you lose someone you love. And families don't become the cause of each other's distress. Sahir Niazi didn't know that, I do."
No, he didn't. I do. And when I would return home with Bisma, I'd force Father to give in, I'd tell him to take us to Aunt, and if he couldn't make an apology Bisma and I would. I wanted them both, I wanted a second home, a family to live with. Parents and their children don't make a family, that's home. Family is Grandparents' love, squabbles and fun gossip between Aunts, complaints and protection of Uncles, hand wrestling and spontaneous outings with cousins, politics and expressions of resentment, surprise birthday parties, dinners in restaurants, long road trips to mountains and sea. That's family and Father kept all of that from us.
"You don't know, Mahsal, what things money can have us do for it." And how ironic that he was the one who said that to me.
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