The Other Half of My Soul (17 page)

Tapping his fingers on the table, Eli made his anger known. He shifted his gaze back and forth between his sister and brother-in-law. “So, let me hear the reason why you lied . . . why you deceived me.”

Rayna cast her eyes downward and murmured, “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to . . .”

“Look at me when you speak, damn it. I defended you. Both of you. I befriended
your husband
. Why did you shut me out? Is it that with Rami in your life, you no longer have use for me?”

“Eli, do not blame Rayna. She wanted to tell you. We both wanted to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Eli, lower your voice, please. Let’s not make a scene in the restaurant. I was wrong not to tell you. Rami and I . . . we were both wrong. We’re sorry.”

“In March! You married in March! Three months ago! You didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t have the time? What? What was it?”

The waiter came over to take their orders. “Is there a problem?”

“No, there’s no problem,” Eli was irritated by the intrusion.

Rami put his arm around Rayna and smoothed back her hair. “Eli, Rayna loves you very much. You must believe that. Besides Isaac, you have been the one constant in her life. I have not come to take your place. I have a different role in her life.”

“I’ll bet you have! You sleep with her! Is that why you married my sister? Before Rayna met you, she was innocent and pure. Why couldn’t you keep your hands off her?”

Rayna fidgeted nervously. Rami took her hand and held it. “Eli, give me twenty minutes with no interruptions, no facial expressions. Just listen.”

“Why should I give you anything? You took my sister from me. I can have you deported back to Syria.”

“Eli, listen to Rami. Please!”

“I’m listening. This better be good.”

Rami spoke of the special love he and Rayna shared. He told of his own father’s hatred for Jews and of Rayna’s fears over losing her family. “Rayna was conflicted and scared. That is why she did not tell you.” Rami accepted full responsibility for the situation. “Your grandfather was right. I pushed Rayna into this marriage. I love her so much that I could not risk losing her to outside influences.”

In the end, Eli was left with no choice. He did not want to lose his sister. He loved her. Reaching inside his shirt pocket, he took out an envelope, “Dad asked me to give this to you.”

Troubled, Rayna quietly read the letter.

Dear Rayna,

I also know about love. I have loved you so very much from the day you came into this world. You were my baby. My only daughter. Do you know how much I wanted a daughter? Your mother and I kept having sons. Four of them. I was determined to have my little girl. Your birth brought me so much joy. Now, your marriage has brought me so much sorrow. I want to disown you, but I can’t. Your mother will not take this well. When she finds out, there will be no forgiveness. I promised to put you through school and I want to keep that promise. This check is for the coming school year. Deposit it into your account. Hold onto your grandfather’s money. It is your insurance policy for the future. And manage your trust fund wisely. We may never speak again, but know that I love you.

Daddy

Withdrawing a fifty-thousand-dollar check, she stared at it for several seconds. “I can’t accept this. Not after what I’ve done to hurt him. Oh, Eli, I’m so sorry for the grief I have caused everyone.” Weeping, she handed the check back to her brother.

Eli refused to take it. “Deposit it into your school account. Don’t hurt Dad any more than you already have. Last night, Dad said that one day he’ll contact you. But right now, this is all very difficult for him and he needs time.”

“Thank you, Eli. From the bottom of my heart. I don’t know what happened last night between you and Dad. What did you say to him?”

“Rayna, we all have skeletons hiding in our closets. Dad is no exception.” He smiled. “My dear sister, your mascara is running.”

* * *

Early Friday afternoon, Rami turned onto Liberty Street and met Rayna in front of the south tower. They were going to Maryland to find an apartment to live in while attending school. Marisa had insisted that they stay with them for the weekend and offered the sofa bed in Jason’s office. “The children will be so excited to see you. Plan to arrive in time for shabbat dinner.”

Advancing toward the Holland Tunnel, Rami was grateful to escape the city before the start of rush-hour traffic. Two hours into the trip, Rami’s cell phone rang. He glanced over at Rayna and rolled his eyes before focusing back on the road. “That has got to be either Nolan or Yousef.” He shrugged his shoulders, wanting to ignore the call. Rayna lifted the phone from the dashboard and handed it to Rami.

“Yes?” Instant turmoil ignited in his stomach. It was Yousef ordering him to the Triple Frontier on July fifteenth, the same day Rayna would be closing on the sale of her grandfather’s house. Rami would not leave her to go through it alone. “No, Yousef. I cannot be there on July fifteenth. August fourth, Yousef, and for two weeks only. Then school starts.”

Yousef threatened to kidnap Rayna, do with her what he wanted, then return damaged goods back to Rami. Rami clenched his teeth. He grasped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Do not threaten me, Yousef!” He pushed the button and ended the call, then threw the phone onto the back seat.

“A rest stop in two miles. Let’s stop, Rami.”

“Yousef wants me in Ciudad del Este on July fifteenth. I defied him. He threatened . . .” Rami stopped himself. He did not want to alarm Rayna.

“Don’t go,” she begged. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this. Please don’t go.”

It is because of me that Rayna is in danger. I cannot allow harm to come to her. I must find a way out. I will speak with Eli. He will look after her while I am away in South America.

twenty

Dreams do come true if we only wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.

—James M. Barrie

Ciudad del Este, Paraguay, the contraband capital of the world—this is where Omar was working for the summer. Yousef had employed him in an electronics store crammed with confiscated goods and defective merchandise that carried forged name-brand labels. A steady flow of unwitting people flocked to buy the cut-rate, adulterated goods. In the back of the store, a concealed door leading into a warehouse rested flush against the rough, dark-paneled wall. Behind the wall, partitions separated the contraband from stockpiles of weapons and explosives. The weapons were traded for cocaine with Colombian and Brazilian drugpins.

Defying detection, handguns, automatic assault rifles, machetes, small missiles, cluster bombs, and land mines arrived periodically in the Triple Frontier via Syria. In turn, refined cocaine was shipped in sophisticated containers to ports of entry in the United States and Europe, where an abundance of willing buyers provided the business that bankrolled much of al-Shahid’s worldwide activities.

Witnessing corruption and total disregard for human life, Omar recalled a sociology professor he had had during his first semester at the University of Maryland. From this teacher, he learned about ‘survival of the fittest’ and ‘caveat emptor.’ With these lessons in mind, Omar did what he had to do for his own self-preservation. He could not risk warning Rami of the danger to his life. If word were to leak back to Yousef that he had alerted Rami, then Omar’s life might be marked as well. So Omar had chosen to be silent. Fear was a greater motivator than friendship.

* * *

One morning, as Omar entered the warehouse to gather some of the black-market merchandise to restock the store’s shelves, he witnessed Yousef and Abdallah in fiery contention. In Arabic, Yousef was vehemently disparaging Abdallah, who was not taking it lightly. It became clear to Omar that the two men wanted Rami eliminated. Abdallah wanted to blot out Rami as soon as he arrived in the Triple Frontier. Yousef demanded restraint.

“Not until a secure replacement is found to work with Doctor Nolan. So far, Abdallah, you’re incompetent. You’re a failure.” Brutally, he lifted a loaded handgun off the shelf and held it to Abdallah’s temple. Yousef pulled back the hammer. Abdallah flinched. Viciously, Yousef snarled, “Find a replacement before Rami arrives. Am I clear enough, Abdallah?”

The diabolical power that Yousef held over others sent a terri-fying chill through Omar.
No one is immune from Yousef’s wrath. Not even Abdallah.

* * *

Putting aside his apprehension over the danger that loomed ahead, Rami focused his attention on Rayna. The couple had spent an exhausting weekend in Maryland searching for an apartment. Late Sunday afternoon, Marisa and Jason advised the pair not to be foolish, “Don’t throw away your money on high rent when you could do better by investing in real estate, especially since you have the funds to do so.”

* * *

Convinced of the financial judiciousness, Rami and Rayna returned the following weekend and went house hunting. In the upscale corridor of Tuckerman Lane in Bethesda, Maryland, they found a large, newly-built, townhouse. The location was perfect, and the house was more than they could have hoped for—three finished levels, spacious rooms, lots of sunlight, and rich appointments. The half-hour drive to the university would provide the wedge they wanted from the activities and clamor of campus life. A short distance away were two metro stations, good restaurants, lots of shopping, supermarkets, movie theaters, and Marisa and Jason’s home.

Trying unsuccessfully to strike a deal with the real estate agent, Rami had insisted on speaking directly with the builder. Rayna sat back and watched her husband delve into negotiations. Rami pointed to the slump in the real estate market and emphasized the eight months that the house had been sitting vacant, at much cost to the builder. Offering to pay with a check, to forego any changes, and to settle the following week, Rami tempted the developer. What had begun as an asking price of $480,000 became a selling price of $390,000. Rami had negotiated superbly, and Rayna was delirious with joy. She wrote a check for the deposit, and the contract was sealed.

Before starting back to New York, Rayna urged her husband to go see Nolan. “Drop me off at the mall. I’ll shop while I’m waiting for you.”

* * *

Wild with excitement about the new house, Rayna chattered incessantly during the trip back to Brooklyn. She rattled on about where they would put Isaac’s furniture, what they needed to buy, how to decorate, cooking meals in the large modern kitchen, and making love on a new king-size bed under the big skylight. The more she rambled, the deeper Rami withdrew, until Rayna’s words were reduced to background drone.

Rami recognized that his life with Rayna was filled with more good than he could ever have imagined possible. His love for her was stronger than anything he had ever known before or would ever know again. Still, a struggle churned within. Sometimes the love he felt was so great, it hurt. When she had written a check for the deposit on the house, he perceived it to be his responsibility, one that he could not fulfill. Rayna’s overly generous nature and insistence that her money belonged to them both made him feel inadequate. He was accepting from her more than he was giving to her. Furthermore, after observing Abe’s reaction to Rayna’s marriage, Rami concluded that the man loved his daughter more than he loved intolerance. This brought memories of Ibrahim. Rami saw his father embracing intolerance more than loving his son.

Adding to the tension were Yousef’s demands on him. Rami did not want to return to Ciudad del Este, nor did he want to be separated from Rayna. Yet, Yousef’s threat, if he did not go, scared him. Rayna would be kidnapped. Yousef did not make idle threats. How could he tell Rayna that the only reason he would be going to South America was to protect her?

Moreover, his visit with Nolan that afternoon had only intensified the stress. Nolan had informed Rami of two Arab men who had approached him, wanting him to cut all ties with Rami. They bribed and bullied. When Nolan rejected their demands, the men launched into scare tactics, intimidation, and dire warnings.

How long can Nolan resist before his life is in real danger?
Rami was determined to free himself from Yousef’s domination and also to look after the professor. But how?

* * *

Overwhelmed with enthusiasm, Rayna had not noticed her husband’s disengagement. After exhausting the subject of the house, she talked about Kamil giving her the name of an excellent immigration lawyer in Washington. “As soon as we’re settled, we should make an appointment. We’ll both rest easier once you have your green card.” When Rami made no gesture of acknowledgment, Rayna thought it was because he did not understand, so she clarified, “Permanent resi . . .” All at once, she latched onto the daunting expression blanketing Rami’s face. She noted the speedometer needle grazing ninety.
He did not hear one word I said
. “Rami, slow down!” When he did not react, she screamed, “Rami!” Something was amiss. Rayna wanted him to stop the car. “Sweetheart, please pull off at the next exit. I have to go to the bathroom.”

In silence, he slowed the car, followed the signs off the exit, and pulled into a gas station. While he remained with the car to fuel up, Rayna went inside. When she returned, she coaxed Rami into letting her drive the rest of the way. “You look tired. Why don’t you shut your eyes and rest a while. I don’t mind driving.” Rami did not argue.

* * *

In bed later that night, Rayna rested her head on his chest. “It’s Yousef, isn’t it?”

“It is many things. Yes, Yousef is a big chunk.” Rami wrapped his arms snugly around her. He spoke of all the things plaguing him—all except Yousef’s threat against her.

“It’s not true that you take from me more than you give to me. Your love is priceless. No amount of money could buy your love. Don’t you see that?” Rayna then suggested that Rami speak with Kamil. “He hates Yousef more than you do. Remember, it was Yousef who killed Kamil’s father during the Hamah massacre. It was Yousef who pulled Kamil’s little brother from his arms and dragged away the child.”

Rami recalled the story well. He had cringed when Rayna first narrated the account, almost as if he had been there himself. “Yes, I would like to speak with Kamil.”

* * *

On Monday morning, Rayna waited anxiously for Kamil to arrive, continually checking his office. Rushing toward his door for the sixth time, she did not see Kamil coming and collided head-on into him. “Whoa!” he grinned, catching her. “To what do I owe this pleasant greeting?”

She eased him into his office and shut the door. “Rami wants to meet with you today. He needs to talk . . . about Yousef.”

Kamil eyed her apprehensively. “Oh?”

“Kamil, I gave you my word that you would know about Yousef . . .”

“And why now? Why today? What is the urgency?”

“Rami is very troubled. He needs someone other than me to confide in. Someone else he can trust. Like you. You’re both from Syria. Same culture, same language. Please, Kamil, I’m begging you. You and Rami have a common enemy . . . Yousef.”

He glanced at his calendar. “I must write my column this morning. After that, I have a luncheon appointment. Two o’clock. Tell Rami to come by my office at two o’clock.” For fifteen years, Kamil had been agonizing over an opportunity to get at Yousef.

“Oh, Kamil, I could hug you.”

Kamil smiled, “Next time I will not refuse.”

* * *

At noon, Rami met Rayna in the concourse of the World Trade Center. They picked up veggie melts at the sandwich shop and took their lunch outside to the plaza—the open square separating the north and south towers. Overshadowing the grounds were an enormous sculpted globe and a commanding central water fountain. During the summer months, free concerts were given. On this particular day, a small orchestra played the musical score from
West Side Story
. Looking for an empty bench, Rami and Rayna found one in the shade. A mild breeze tempered the summer’s heat. As they ate their lunch, the two decided to postpone the closing on Isaac’s house and coordinate it with the move into their new residence.

Rayna’s cell phone rang. “Hello.” As she spoke, tears trickled down her cheeks. Nervously, she chewed on her lower lip.

“What is it, rrawhee? Who was that?”

Rayna shook her head and looked away, trying to regain her composure so as not to draw attention to herself. “That was my jidaw’s lawyer. Two of my aunts, my mother’s sisters, have brought a three-million-dollar lawsuit against me with accusations that I manipulated Isaac and stole the house from the family.”

In the background, the small orchestra played “Somewhere.” Rami took out a tissue from Rayna’s tote and patted the droplets from her face. Stilled by the music, they sat for several minutes with their eyes locked. Breaking the trance, Rami clasped his wife’s hand, “Come.”

* * *

He led her up the elevators and to the enclosed observation deck on the one-hundred-seventh floor of the south tower. From there, they followed sightseers who were climbing the stairs to the roof. “Hmmm, how strange,” Rayna remarked. “After the 1993 attack on the towers by Muslim terrorists, the fire marshall ordered the rooftop doors locked. I wonder why they’re open today.”

Outside on the roof, the world had a surreal quality. Clear skies commanded incredible three-hundred-sixty-degree views. “I wish we could stay right here. Down below, our lives are on a roller coaster. One minute the wind raises us to glorious heights and the next minute a downdraft forces us to the bottom.” Sinking to the rooftop floor, Rayna allowed herself the luxury of escaping into oblivion. Rami brought her back to reality. It was almost two o’clock and he did not want to keep Kamil waiting.

* * *

Rayna sat in her office watching a video on the ease of manipulating the minds of the public. Rami was with Kamil behind a closed door. Two hours later, Kamil buzzed, “Come on into my office.”

* * *

Rayna took the seat beside her husband. Looking across the desk, Kamil spoke directly to her. “I’ll be on that flight with Rami when he leaves for South America. He will not be out of my sight during those two weeks. I give you my word.”

Kamil’s message made her tremble. Rayna tried to steady her hands in her lap. She had expected Kamil to talk Rami out of going. Now she felt betrayed. Angrily, she rose from the chair and leaned over the desk. With venom in her voice, Rayna bore down on Kamil in an unwavering, icy glare, “I trusted you. You double-crossed me. Through my husband, you may now find the revenge you have so long been looking for. It should make a great story for a reporter of your caliber. You may even be able to write a book about it. Maybe you can even kill Yousef and avenge your father’s death. And your brother’s death, too!” She turned to leave, hesitated, then swung back around. “If anything happens to Rami, you will carry a heavy yoke around your neck for as long as you live. I will not allow you a moment of peace.”

“You have my word, Rayna. I will return Rami safely to you.”

Pivoting, Rayna reached for the doorknob. Kamil jumped up and stopped her. “Sit down. Rami isn’t doing this to put himself in danger or to upset you. He’s struggling to keep you safe. Yousef has threatened your life. If Rami doesn’t go to Ciudad del Este, Yousef will kidnap you.”

Slowly, Rayna shifted her gaze to Rami, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I love you and you already have enough to worry about.”

Without uttering another word, Rayna left the room.

* * *

Over the next week, a tense silence filled their marriage. Rayna spoke to Rami only when necessary. In bed, she slept at the far edge with her back toward him, refusing his tender attempts at resolving their impasse.

* * *

At
InterContinental Weekly
, Rayna informed Simon that she had learned enough media law and wanted to tackle a writing assignment. She threw herself into a thorough investigation of the 1993 World Trade Center bombing.