Un-Shattering Happiness: Chapter 2
“Were we right to
send her away like that?” asked Remedios’s mum.
“We
didn’t send her away, Jade. She left on her own,” grunted Argon. “She’ll come
back,” he added.
“I
don’t think she’ll return. Music travels,” said Nicholas, the most concerned of
all.
“She
left everything. Besides, once anyone learns who she is, they will
automatically leave her or even better,” Argon smiled. “A bounty on her head.”
“Dead
or alive?” Nicholas joked, his voice shaky.
He loved his sister. And he didn’t want her dead nor ‘or’
which in Argon’s case could be worse than death.
“Nicholas!”
cried his mum.
“Alive,” decided Argon. “Because of her identity, no one
will take her in, and because of no identity in her hands, no country will take
her in.”
Jade wiped her tears with a silk handkerchief. “My Remedios, what has cursed
you?” she cried unseen tears.
Argon left the dining hall,
the excitement visible on his clean-shaven face. Nicholas sat helplessly next
to his mum, trying to comfort her under the bright chandelier lights.
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The next morning, Hawwa –
previously known as Remedios – was greeted by Maira’s calm voice.
“Wake-up,
Hawwa,” she said gently, opening the curtains. “We have a flight to catch in 2
hours.”
Hawwa pulled the curtains on
her face. The sudden shine of the sun was painful.
“We
can’t shop for your clothes right now. You’ll have to wear mine for now,”
continued Maira. She turned to Hawwa. “Wash your face. Freshen up. In the
meantime, I’ll prepare the clothes for you.” Maira then left the room, closing
the door softly behind her.
Slowly, Hawwa removed the
covers off of her face. She closed her eyes tight, and then little by little
opened her eyes, the sunshine penetrating her eyes. She rubbed her eyes and
then lifted her head from the soft pillow. She sat on the bed, touching the
flowery bedcover. It was a queen-sized bed. No wonder she felt like she was
sleeping on clouds. She looked around the room, which was as big as her room,
but it felt kind of empty. The walls gave a pure and happy aura. They were
painted white with silver sparkles on them. She looked to her right and a
circular window. It had curtains next to it, which she noticed, were made of
silk. The circular window was the only source of brightening up the big room.
Her eyes then wandered to the right of her bedside. A lonely wooden table stood
which had an ancient lamp and a glass of water on it. The table had three
drawers, which had rusty circular golden handles in the middle of each. Hawwa
yawned and got off the bed. A pair of baby pink bunny slippers sat on the floor
in wait for her.
“Waah, so soft,” she mumbled
as she slid her, not too tiny and not too huge feet in them. She walked to the
left side of her bed and saw a wooden bookshelf. A handful of books decorated
the handsome bookshelf. A Tale of Two Cities, Death and the Devil, The Prince
and the Pauper, The Metamorphosis, and The Alchemist rested on the two shelves.
Neat and clean, untouched. “A nice collection,” she murmured. The
restroom was right in front of the bookshelf. She changed her slippers into the
restroom ones and stepped inside.
Maira came into the room as
soon as Hawwa went into the restroom. She left the clothes on the bed with a note
on the side table. Then, she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Hawwa took a shower. She
wrapped herself with a white towel hung in the bathroom and carefully stepped
out. She didn’t want to slip and break a bone before leaving the Country. Her
Country. Her Birthplace. Just a small country near Russia. A multi-cultured
country where people from around the world lived together harmoniously. She
walked over to the bed and found a purple knee-length sleeveless shirt made of
cotton. Purple was her favorite color. It gave her a feel of royalty and
richness. The shirt had two white four-petalled flowers embroidered on it,
starting from the top right corner. The white flowers looked so graceful, which
made Hawwa feel that the flowers were smiling at her. Wear me, please,
she mimicked as if she were the purple shirt and then laughed, putting on the
shirt, pulling up the zip on her back with a little difficulty. Next to the
shirt lay a black waist-length leather jacket, who’s buttons were
missing. A pair of black flappy jeans lay next to the jacket. She pulled up the
jeans to her waist, zipping it up, closing the silver button on it. Finally,
she put on the black leather jacket. Her hair was still dripping wet, so she
dried them with the towel she had wrapped herself with earlier. After drying
her hair, she nicely folded her clothes and put them on the table when she
found a note on it. She picked up the note. “Come downstairs
when you are done,” she read aloud. The writing was cursive and
just beautiful! She folded the paper and put it in her jeans’ pocket. “Hmm?
What should I do with the towel? Guess I’ll just take it downstairs,” she said
aloud. Back home, she would hand the towel to one of her maids, but right now,
there were no maids. She was her own maid. So, she took the wet towel along
with her.
“Have
a seat, have a seat,” said Maira, hurriedly.
“What
about the towel?”
“Spread
it on the sofa,” she said while frying the pancakes.
Hawwa spread the towel to her
left onto the sofa and then took a seat on the kitchen counter. It was a modern
style kitchen. The chairs were high like ones one might find in a bar. Maira
had jet black wavy hair, which almost reached her bottom. Hawwa wondered if
they were real or just dyed.
“What would you like with
your pancakes?” asked Maira without turning around.
“Chocolate syrup?” said
Hawwa, unsure if Maira had any.
Maira opened the fridge and
took out a bottle of chocolate syrup from the sidebar. “Drink?” she asked, the refrigerator
still wide open.
“Uhmm…orange
juice?”
Maira put the orange juice on
the table. She put two white plates on the table, on in front of Hawwa and one
for herself. She put two cylindrical transparent glasses next to the plates, a
tray of 10 pancakes, each pancake – Hawwa estimated – was approximately 13cm of
a diameter of each.
“We have similar tastes,”
commented Maira. “But I prefer tea,” she smiled.
Hawwa nodded. “What’s the
hurry? Why are we leaving so early?” she wondered aloud.
“You didn’t think of the
consequences of leaving your home, did you?” asked Maira, her tone completely
neutral.
“Even though they are the
ones who gave me this bitter choice,” said Hawwa. “My name is on the billboard?”
“Not just the billboard. I
picked up the newspaper from my doorstep at 7.30, and do you know what the
headlines read?”
Hawwa shook her head. “Dead
or alive?” she laughed humorlessly.
“30,000 US DOLLARS TO ANYONE
WHO BRINGS IN REMEDIOS ARGON ALIVE,” Maira read from her memory.
The shock was apparent on
Hawwa’s face. “That means I can’t leave the country,” she said, slowly coming
to a conclusion.
Now it was Maira’s turn to be
surprised.
“They know my face, Lady
Maira.”
Maira smiled. “All the more
reason to leave. Besides, you wouldn’t be saying that if you knew me.”
“Who are you?”
“You’ll know."
After breakfast, Maira told Hawwa to tie her hair in a low- bun. Hawwa had
shoulder-length dyed hair; crimson red, royal purple, midnight blue, shiny white,
and jet black.
“Your
hair is a,” Maira stopped, searching for the right word.
“Galaxy?”
hinted Hawwa.
“No…like
pop…like…yummy…”
“Yummy?!”
Yummy? Yummy? Of all the words, yummy?
“Yeah.
Tie this cap on your head.”
Hawwa wondered what she was instructing
her to do. What’s hiding all her hair gonna do? Then she saw Maira bringing a
scarf. Oh! Of course! How could she forget!
“I’ve
no idea how to tie a scarf,” she informed.
“I
know, that’s why I am doing it for you,” said Maira and styled the scarf on her
head, using pins. “Tada! Look yourself in the mirror. You look gorgeous!”
She saw her reflection in the
tall rectangular mirror glued on the wall in front of her. What she thought
were pins were the silver buttons that initially belonged to the leather jacket
she was wearing.
“I
am not a fashion designer,” said Maira before Hawwa could give voice to the
words.
The scarf was rectangular,
half black and half purple, the silver buttons making the scarf look sparkly
and pretty.
“I
love it!” she said, her ebony eyes sparkling with delight.
“You
have pretty eyes,” Maira commented. “Give me 10 minutes,” she said and left
Hawwa standing in the kitchen.
---------------------‐-----------------------------------‐------------------------------
“Any
news?” Nicholas asked his father at the breakfast table.
For the first time in ages,
his father was having breakfast with them.
“Not
yet. No sign of her in the Country. Where could she have gone unnoticed when it
was only eight?” Argon asked from no one in particular.
“Ten…it
was ten,” Nicholas reminded him, looking him straight in his eyes.
Argon gave him an angry glare
but said nothing.
“Well,
it’s morning now. The sun is out. Where ever she dug a hole last night, she
isn’t a rabbit. But maybe she is a rabbit,” he amended himself. “She will have
no news of her hunters,” he moved his right index finger from one point to
another, tracing the track like an arc. “She will hop out,” he then crashed his
right hand on the table like a lion’s claw. “And be caught.”
Nicholas could see spaces
between those fingers. She will escape, he thought. He looked at his mother,
who ate in silence. She hoped Remedios was safe. The King was surrounded by his
own Queen and a Pawn. Aware or unaware, he was at a loss, thought Nicholas
again. If he won again, would his father be replaced or something else?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Maira came downstairs,
wearing the same outfit as last night; black overalls.
“Aren’t
we taking any luggage?” asked Hawwa, surprised.
Maira shook her head.
“Am
I not supposed to wear a gown too?”
“We
can get you one when we reach Oman. Though you don’t really need one. As long
as your clothes are covering you, you don’t need to wear a
gown,” explained Maira. “But don’t worry. Once we get there, we’ll get you
one.”
“Who’s
…we?” Hawwa blurted out the question.
“You
and me, who else? Can’t say us will buy you,” laughed Maira. She tilted her
head to one side, looking at the stairs. “Up we go.”
“The
…roof? We are going on a helicopter?!”
“Patience.
Patience.”
Hawwa followed Maira to the rooftop. Calling it a rooftop
would be an understatement…it was more like a runway. A rooftop runway.
A plane stood in front of her. A biplane. Oh my
God, is that a Kinner Airster? she thought. This plane was no more
in fashion. Same with that 1932 Plymouth. This
lady is weird, she concluded.
“Where’s the
captain?” she asked, but by the time she was done asking, she knew the
answer.
She looked at Maira, mouth
open, speechless.
“Hop
in,” Maira smiled.
Asking no more questions,
Maira climbed in and sat next to the captain seat. There were so many buttons.
Maira climbed in next. She gave a red helmet to Hawwa and wore the other red
one herself.
“Have
you ever been to the sky before?” Maira asked.
“Yeah,
been on a plane-”
“Today,
you will experience been in the sky,” Maira started the engine. “Don’t
close your eyes,” she added.
The two flyers reached their destination at midnight. Hawwa wondered if her
mentor had fighter-pilot training in the past. She had shown some deadly moves
during the flight, which was worse than having a ride in a roller-coaster. It
was scary yet a fun flight.
“This
place looks like a…I don’t know…what is this place?”
There were identical houses
everywhere she looked except the one she stood on. This one was different from
the rest. It had a biplane on top of it.
“This
is a campus. A university’s campus. And don’t worry about the biplane. One of
my men will take it back before sunrise,” she explained as if my men were
normal—a phrase only her dad would use. “Now, this is the hard part,” she said,
pointing at the ladder stuck to the wall. “We have to climb down…you okay? You
look terrified. Don’t worry, I’ll climb down first. You can jump if you want
to. I’ll catch you.”
This lady is crazy, thought Hawwa. “I can climb down,
thanks.”
Seven dangerous minutes of
climbing down had tired Hawwa even more.
“Just
a bit more,” said Maira. Her voice sounded distant. “You can close your eyes.
I’ll lead the way,” she heard Maira’s voice from far away.
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