Love from A to Z(78)
“But it’s not smooth sailing.”
“Life isn’t?”
I sighed. I didn’t know if I was getting across what I was trying to say. “I’ve been sort of paralyzed when I think of the future. It’s, like, dark.” I looked at the sand below my sneakers and then moved my right shoe through it, making grooves. “It closes in on me. It feels like I can’t move. And I’m on my own.”
“But why do you have to be?” She said it gently, kindly. “You don’t have to be alone, Adam.”
“The funny thing is, I’m not. My dad, and of course Hanna, is there for me. I’ve also got the coolest friends in that way,” I acknowledged. “But it constantly feels like I can’t tell all. Like they won’t get everything, so I don’t even try.”
“There are forums, online and in real life, where you can meet others with MS, you know.” Her voice quickened, like she couldn’t wait to share her thoughts. “I’ve found some! I was researching MS treatments and therapy methods, and I found those forums. I’ll send you links. Then we can see if there’s some sort of support group right here in Doha.”
“You researched MS?” I turned to her. Completely to her.
“Yeah? There’s so much information! Hopeful information, Adam.” She peered at me to make sure I saw how serious she was, enthusiasm taking over her face as she leaned forward in her eagerness to communicate her excitement. “You don’t have to be alone.”
Hope—she was trying to give me hope.
She was trying to light the way forward with hope.
Amazing. To think I’d not been alone.
That she’d been thinking ahead for me too.
“Okay, I need to look at the water.” I gazed back at the waves. “Because I suddenly understand why there are rules in the first place.”
“Me researching MS made you more thirsty?”
“Yeah. That, and you being you. Really thirsty.”
She laughed softly. “What does this mean? ’Cause we can’t drink the water, you know.”
“Hello, people!”
I turned behind me to see Ms. Raymond with other teachers from DIS making their way toward us.
Ms. Raymond’s face lit up at seeing our snacks. “Oh, yes! I’m so happy you got to try chapati and karak, Zayneb!”
Zayneb nodded and held up her chapati. “I approve, Doha.”
We got up, and, before joining the others, I thanked the family nearby, the ones who’d lent us their chairs.
? ? ?
When we got home that night, we didn’t text each other.
We didn’t need to.
We just knew what we would both say.
ZAYNEB
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 20
MARVEL: ADAM . . . I MEAN, WATER
AUNTIE NANDY AND I WENT for a swim first thing today. We swam laps together and took turns rating each other’s dives, and then Auntie Nandy left for the changing room so she could go up to the apartment and put together her essential breakfast spread.
I flipped onto my back and relaxed for a bit.
My eyes were closed as I relived the moments on the beach yesterday, a goofy smile on my face—Adam and I feel the exact same about each other, and we admitted it!—when I got touched on the arm.
I opened my eyes and lifted my head to a déjà vu. It was the woman in the white swim cap and swimsuit from my first time in the pool, trying to get my attention again. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you again. But my husband is trying to talk to you.”
Pulling myself up in order to see and clear my ears properly, I turned to where she was pointing. It was the same bobbing man who’d tattled on me before to the gym attendant, Marc. He was standing by the pool stairs, hands hanging by his sides, shorts again hitched under his stomach.
Her husband?
I looked at her. “Your husband?”
“Yeah.” She nodded sheepishly then yelled at him. “Now what is it? I got her attention.”
“Excuse me, but I thought Marc told you the rules of swimming here.” The man’s arms raised into I’m-the-boss wings as he placed both hands on his hips. He looked like an angry bird.
“We realize you may be a guest here, but there are rules at this complex, dear,” the woman beside me said sympathetically, like a granny. Like an I’m-the-boss granny.
I almost lost it.
But I thought again about being on the beach yesterday.
Of sitting there in the night and the hot karak and coolness of the breeze off the water. Of Adam, when he said he liked the water a lot.
It made me remember something: I liked me too.
And I liked the things I liked to do, like swimming.
“I’m not breaking any rules.” I spoke loudly so the man could hear. “To wear extra swim fabric is not breaking any rules.”
“As we told you before, it’s not proper swimwear,” the man insisted, a scowl starting. He crossed his arms for emphasis, like a terrible cartoon. Because I’m the boss, and I say so!
His wife patted my shoulder. “My husband just likes things the way they’ve been. We’ve lived here for four years. No one’s dressed like you before.”
I drew myself away from her pretend niceness. “Excuse me, but I’d like to swim in peace now.”