The Other Half of My Soul (26 page)

thirty

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

—Marcel Proust

By early July, the couple were off to Greece to attend the wedding of Eli and Alexis. Rayna agonized over having to face her family. Months before the nuptials, she had told Eli that maybe it would be best if she and Rami stayed away, but Eli would not hear of it. Rayna remembered well their conversation:

“
Nonsense. Rise above them. Don’t give Mom the satisfaction, and don’t hurt Alexis and me. Our wedding would not be complete without both of you there. Besides, Alexis is quite fond of you. At times, she jokingly says that she’s marrying me just to have you for a sister-in-law
.”

“
Really
?”

“
Really. And, Rayna . . .
”

“
What, Eli
?”

“
I . . . I’m not going to let anyone or anything come between us. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you
?”

“
Eli, I love you. You’re my brother. My very special brother. But now Alexis must come first, just as Rami must always come first with me. Do you understand what I’m saying
?”

“
Yes
.”

* * *

It was a Greek wedding with all the gaiety, music, and dancing the Greeks are known for. It was also a Sephardic wedding with all the ritualistic intent and charm that once depicted ancient Judaism at its best. Sitting together, Rami, Rayna, and Kamil were all equally touched by the significance of the ceremony, and by the warmth and joviality of the people.

During the dinner reception, Rami and Rayna glanced back and forth at Kamil, both hoping to convince him to stay on and spend a few extra days sightseeing with them. Disappointed that pressing responsibilities kept Kamil from doing so, Rayna brushed her hand over his. “Then we shall enjoy this evening of celebration.”

“Yes,” Kamil smiled.

Bountiful platters of assorted Greek desserts were rolled in. Rayna watched Abe make his way toward her. Uncomfortably, she squirmed, reaching for Rami’s hand. Politely, Abe greeted them and asked to see his daughter alone. Uncertain, Rayna looked to Rami. He nodded, “It is okay. Kamil and I will be right here. Go with your father.”

Rayna’s gaze wandered toward her mother, who was sitting at a distant table. A disdainful glare oozed from Sarah’s eyes. Rayna recoiled.

Abe observed the silent exchange and put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “God knows, I have tried to soften things. But all it accomplishes is to make your mother more angry. And poor Eli. Your mother has made his life miserable because he refuses to break ties with you like your other brothers have done. I’m glad Eli is married now. If he’s smart, he’ll keep his distance from her.”

Rayna did not respond. She followed Abe’s lead and walked outside with him.

* * *

“Beautiful wedding.”

“Yes, Dad, it is a beautiful wedding.”

“You know, of all my four sons . . . well, Eli is special.”

“Yes, Dad, he is.”

Abe took Rayna’s hand and held on. “Can we find somewhere quiet to sit and talk?”

Together, they walked around the back of the building and found a bench under a tree. It overlooked the water. “Do you know that Athens juts out like a peninsula into the Aegean Sea? That’s what makes the climate so mild.”

Rayna said nothing.

“Why did you do it?” Abe took out a monogrammed hand-kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the perspiration.

Rayna prodded for clarification, “Excuse me?”

“I love you so very much. I always have. From the day you were born . . .” Abe struggled through his words. “I regret that things have not worked out for you like I had planned . . . like I had hoped.”

“What were you planning? What were you hoping? What, Dad? What did you have in mind for me?”

“Marrying a Shi’ite Muslim, any Muslim, was not what I had in mind for you.”

“Well, Dad, it happened.”

“Why? Why did you do it?” Abe asked again.

Rayna abruptly rose. “This conversation is over.”

Abe took her hand and gently nudged her back. “Please, this is difficult for me. I’m trying to understand.”

“If you’re really ready to understand, I’ll tell you.” Staring at each other, an uncomfortable silence fell between them.

Abe broke the stillness. From the inside pocket of his expensive suit jacket, he withdrew an envelope and held it out. Rayna pushed it away. “I don’t want your money. It’s always the money, isn’t it, Dad? Do you know about anything other than money?”

Abe’s eyes showed his sadness. “I will never stop loving my daughter. Can’t you see that?”

“Do you think that Rami is not what’s best for me because he’s a Muslim? If he were a Jew, a wealthy Syrian Jew, would you think better of him?”

“Rayna, do you think that’s a fair question?”

“Yes, it’s a fair question. You really want to know why I married Rami? Because I love him.” Unsettled, she stood to leave. Once more, Abe grasped her hand, easing Rayna down to the bench, begging her to stay.

“Do you love Mom?”

Abe hesitated.

“Do you, Dad?” She watched her father’s shoulders slump as he looked away. Realizing that she had touched Abe in a vulnerable spot, Rayna put her arm around him, “You don’t, do you?”

“No.” His response was barely audible.

“Have you ever loved Mom?”

“Once. Maybe. It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”

“Is there someone else?”

“There was someone else.” Abe looked ashamed.

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you. What happened?”

“She wasn’t Jewish. I was married. She was married. I had a family. My reputation in the Syrian community . . .”

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes.”

“But you walked away. You gave up love. Life is full of trade-offs, isn’t it, Dad?”

“Yes.”

“I never intended to marry a non-Jew. Rami never intended to marry anyone but a Shi’ite. I didn’t do this to hurt you. But with Rami . . . our love is powerful. At first, I tried to fight it. But I couldn’t. Fate overruled everything standing in its way.”

“Does he love you as much?”

“More.”

“I wish I had your courage.” Tears of affection filled Abe’s eyes. “You are incredibly special, and I will always love you. It doesn’t matter what your mother thinks. I’m not ready to disown my daughter.”

“Rami and I are a package deal.”

“He’s a lucky man.”

“And a good man.”

Abe held out the envelope. “Please take this.”

Rayna accepted, knowing just what to do with it. She and Rami would soon open an orphanage and start a school for very young children who might otherwise be doomed to a life with drug-addicted, abusive parents.

* * *

Later that evening, when Rami and Rayna returned to the hotel, they found a message waiting.
Just got news. Be at American Embassy in Damascus day after tomorrow. Soon have green card. Short flight from Greece to Syria. Call as soon as you can. Will discuss details then
.

The couple had waited a long time for this. The communiqué came from Rami’s lawyer, who had been working diligently to pull strings and call in favors to change Rami’s immigration status to permanent resident of the United States. In their hotel room, Rami placed an overseas call to Washington. Although relieved that the ordeal would soon be over, he worried about traveling back to Syria and about leaving Rayna alone in Athens.

“It’s just for two days. I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll visit the Archaeology Museum, and I’ll go shopping. I’ll save the Acropolis for when you return. We’ll tour it together.”

“I cannot go and leave you here alone in this strange city. It is not safe. If something were to happen to you . . . I am not going.” Rami’s words seemed final.

“Go to Syria and get it over with. We’ve waited a long time for this.” Softly, she brushed her lips to his.

“I wish I could take you with me.”

“But you can’t. Jews are not welcome in Syria.”

“The way of the world gives me so much pain.”

“I know it does.”

* * *

Arriving in Damascus early in the day, Rami rented a car and drove to the American Embassy. After signing the papers put before him, Rami turned his passport over to a gentleman who told him to return the following afternoon. “All of your papers are in order. Everything is moving along smoothly. Give us twenty-four hours to process the rest of the documents.”

Uneasy about leaving his passport, but having no other choice, Rami regretted coming to Syria. He looked at his watch, then checked into a nearby hotel. From the room, he called Rayna. She was out. He left a message. After stopping for lunch, he slipped behind the wheel of the rental car and drove two hours north on Highway 5 toward Aleppo. Rayna filled his mind. He fretted about leaving her alone in Athens.

* * *

Maneuvering the old, narrow streets, Rami approached the once-familiar Babal-Qinnisrine Gate. He parked the car and entered the courtyard of his old family home. He looked around. Not much had changed. His father’s old Mercedes was nowhere in sight and Rami assumed that his parents were still at the souq. He knocked at the door, hoping his sisters were home from school.

Slowly, the door cracked, then flung open. “Rami! Rami!” Jawhara burst with excitement. He followed his sister into the small kitchen. Eman, the youngest, curiously examined him. She was a toddler when Rami had gone away, and she did not recognize him.

“My, how you both have grown,” he spoke in Syrian. Kneeling down to Eman’s level, Rami winked, “You are very pretty. Do you know the last time I saw you, you were only three, and this high?” Rami gestured with his hand. “How old are you now?”

Eman smiled. “Six.” She opened her mouth wide and jiggled a loose tooth. “These two already fell out,” she proudly pointed to the two empty spaces.

“Wow! That means you are getting to be grown up like your sisters.” Rami placed his arms around Eman’s waist. It felt good to be back home.

Jawhara set out a dish of
ka’ak
.

“Tell me, Jawhara, where are Eby and Imee? Come sit and talk with me. I want to know all about you since I left.”

“Eby and Imee are at the souq, but they will be home soon.”

“Where is Maha?”

“She is married.”

When Rami asked more questions, the two sisters chattered incessantly, competing for his attention. Rami smiled with amusement, delighting in the sounds of their babble. Then, Jawhara accidentally let it slip, “We are not allowed to talk about you. Eby said you are dead, but . . .”

“It is okay. You must do what Eby says. But I am not dead. Here, pinch me.” He pretended to be hurt. “Ouch! You see, I am not dead.”

The girls giggled.

The front door opened. “Who is here?” Salha called out. Rami stood quietly as she came into the kitchen. Salha stopped suddenly. Her eyes focused on Rami. Then, with a burst of joy, she cried, “Rami! Rami! My son! My son!”

“What is all the commotion?” Ibrahim shouted as he came through the doorway carrying a bag of food.

“Ibrahim, come here. Come see.”

Rami’s presence in the kitchen was unexpected. Ibrahim’s nostrils flared. His breathing accelerated. Glaring at his son, Ibrahim slowly put down the groceries. He stretched out his arms and eased his two daughters behind him. Then he motioned for Salha to move away from Rami.

“Tell me. Is it true?” Ibrahim demanded to know.

Rami said nothing.

“Ibrahim,” Salha naively interfered, “Rami is back. He is not dead. Why did you tell us . . .”

“Sssssss.” Not taking his eyes from Rami, Ibrahim made a hissing sound to quiet Salha. “Tell me, Rami, is it true?”

Rami remained silent.

“Answer me!”

Guardedly, Rami nodded.

Ibrahim erupted in wild madness. “Get out! Get out of my house! Do not ever come back here! You are not my son! I am not your father! Take your demons and your evil ways. Get your rotting Jewish filth out of my house before I strike you dead.”

A cold sweat snaked across Rami’s body. Swirls of blackness cut into his vision. For a moment, he thought he would collapse. He grabbed onto a chair to steady himself. Staggering, Rami backed himself out of the premises.

* * *

Reaching the car, his hands trembled as he tried to put the key in the ignition. When he stepped down on the brake, his foot shook so that it kept slipping off the pedal. For several minutes, Rami sat frozen behind the wheel, trying to make sense out of what had just happened.

The episode marked the end of Rami’s past. Parents, family, home, friends, country.
Never again. I cannot ever come back
. Aching for the warmth and comfort of Rayna’s love, Rami prayed to Allah to keep her safe until he returned.
The sooner I leave this place, the better
. He turned the car around and drove out the Babal-Qinnisrine Gate for the last time.

* * *

Easing herself between the sheets, Rayna propped up two pillows behind her head. From the nightstand, she lifted
The Haj
by Leon Uris, a book she had brought to read on the trip. In the hotel room, she waited.
Almost three hours late
. Rayna worried. She called to check on flight arrivals. A loud knock jolted her. “Yes, who is it?”

“Rrawhee, it is me.”

Flinging the door open, she threw her arms around his neck, “I’ve been so worried. I was afraid something happened to you . . . did you get it?”

With his foot, Rami nudged the door shut, put his carry-on bag down, and bolted the lock. “Yes, I got it. I can now live with you in America, forever.” He flooded Rayna with kisses and swooped her to the bed. “I could not have stood another moment away from you.”

Being so close to Rami, she sensed his troubled state. “Some-thing happened. What is it?”

“Right now, I need for us to love . . .”

“You went to Halab, didn’t you?”

“I can never keep anything from you, can I?”

“No, you can’t. Tell me everything, from the moment you left here.”