The Islamic Garden
Wake in death
Selma Cook
How many times
in our lives, have we needed a second chance? Something to occur
that will awaken us from our apathy and sin. In this story, a
woman is finally able to confront herself and reach for the
better.
A streak of light
found its
way through the
thick curtains, allowing a yellow light from the garden to filter
into her room. It lit up the desk cluttered with papers and work
yet to be done and the bookshelf with volumes of unread books.
Dalia lay snug under the woolen blankets, her reddish complexion
looked vibrant, almost as if she were awake. Her eyes moved from
side to side, occupied with some dream or memory that slipped
away, loosening itself from a place far beyond her everyday
recollections. All the things she'd ever said or done were
contained, untouched in the corners of her mind. She knew very
well, her state of worth, the reality of goodness and evil she
contained - only in sleep could she come face to face with the
stark realization of a life stained with mistakes, but which
stalked each coming new day with an air of arrogance and proud
feelings of invulnerability.
Her eyes opened and she looked around her room. Instantly she
remembered the atmosphere in which she had first slept. The
bitter feelings of resentment and anger rose within her once more.
"How could Huda do that to me? How could she speak about me behind my back, like that? She's been my friend for years!" Dalia thought to herself. Her face reflected the hardness of her feelings.
"I've overlooked so
many
weaknesses
and discrepancies in that woman and I've continued in this
friendship more as a favor to her, than to me," she told
herself haughtily.
But Dalia had a plan to punish the betrayal of her friend. She
knew her deepest, darkest secrets. The disclosure of private
fears and regrets that are often verbalized late in the night,
before a cozy fire, with a friend whom you trust and love. Tess
had told her everything! How fortunate she was to know all this,
especially now, at a time when punishment was the only way to
relieve her hurt feelings.
Her desire to get up and drink some water was the means of her
discovering what had happened. She tried to move her legs but she
couldn't! She looked down at the shape of her body beneath the
blankets. The outline of her arms, legs and body. Everything was
there but she couldn't move. Only her eyes were functioning
normally. She tried to call for help but her tongue was also
disabled. How long would it be before someone would come to check
on her? She lived alone. Fear gripped her heart and mind to a
point that resembled death. To die, like this?
"What have I done
to deserve
this?"
she thought to herself. She felt like she had been on the edge of
a precipice and now she had fallen off it and was falling,
falling, falling. To reach the bottom and die would be a relief
but this state of helplessness was beyond compare.
Her eyes searched the room in fear. A fly buzzed about from one
place to another.
"A fly can do, what I cannot!?" she cried within herself. "Am I no better than an insect? What will happen to me?"
She looked at the
outline of
her feet,
pushing the blanket up to a point. Her feet which she could no
longer move. She hadn't really thought about them until now. They
were just something that she walked on; used, to get to where she
wanted to go. Servants, that were often mistreated. Her arms and
hands lay motionless at her sides. Had they worked against her?
Was this a plot to destroy her? But she could blame no one for
this plan of destruction, for everything was a part of her? So,
was she intent on destroying herself? How strange.
If she could only use her tongue, to call for help. It would be
of some relief. She closed her eyes in pain and dread. For this,
could be the oncoming signs of death approaching; a life to end;
the end of time for her. All her days had joined together into
one mass of actions that belonged to her alone. She saw
everything, in such a painfully clear way, without the disguise
of false intentions and self-justification. She saw herself and
wished she were dust.
At this time, she thought of no one. No mother or father, long
gone. No children, no friend. No happy memories comforted her.
She could think of no outstanding quality of goodness that could
console her diminishing spirit. No self sacrifice. All her life
she'd squandered her talent and time. Aiming at self- fulfillment.
Driven by ambition to be the winner, proud of risks taken with
high stakes. Was this the culmination of her life's efforts? A
journey through time where she tried to carry as much of life's
glitter as she could. It all disappeared now and left her alone,
with only herself for company. A sorry partner indeed.
She closed her eyes hoping to sleep her last and let her disabled
spirit exit this world while her senses were blunted in sleep.
The loud clanging of the telephone roused her from her stupor.
Unconsciously her hand reached for the receiver but it was too
late, for the answering machine had switched on and a message was
relayed to her.
"Hey Dalia, this is
Huda. Look
I've
got something important to talk to you about. This Samia has been
spreading rumors about you and me! I don't know where she's
getting the information from but we need to talk and find a way
to stop her trouble making. She told me you've been talking
behind my back, I know she's lying…."
The tape had finished.
©Copyrght Selma
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