Ayesha At Last(92)

A murmur of shock spread through the crowd. A few silently vowed to come to the mosque more often. Who knew it was better than reality TV?

Farzana, alone at the podium, stood frozen. She felt around for support and sat down. Khalid’s face was devoid of colour as he watched the video with the rest of the crowd.

Tarek’s voice continued, hard and unflinching. “In fact, this whole set-up was her idea. She wanted to accuse the imam of something so she could convince you all to fire him and construct her own puppet regime. I know, because I helped her. I supplied her with evidence of the imam’s thieving. But here’s the truth: There is no evidence. I made it all up when I became concerned with her selfish desire for power. Take a look around the room, brothers and sisters, and ask yourselves one question: Who shamelessly took advantage of an Islamic conference to further their own agenda? Who accused an innocent imam with no real evidence? Who is manipulating you and wasting your time?”

More muttering from the crowd, and nods of agreement. The woman beside Ayesha clicked her tasbih beads. “That man is right. I never liked Farzana,” she said.

A picture of Farzana flashed on the screen with the word MENACE underneath. “Take a good look, brothers and sisters. You cannot trust this woman. She is not worthy of your respect. As a symbol of my sincere intentions, I have already returned the money from the conference. I only took it to keep it safe from her.”

The video ended, and there was a moment of silence. Sister Farzana stood up, swaying slightly. Her lips moved as if she was about to say something. She sat back down, and her face sagged.

The crowd was on its feet now, people pushing to the front as the microphone fell from Farzana’s hands. She caught Ayesha’s eye. Unhappy, Ayesha thought. Farzana stood alone and abandoned.

The imam picked up the microphone and fixed it to his robe. Then he began to recite a chapter from the Quran, his voice echoing over the loud yells and sounds of people arguing in the gym. Slowly the crowd calmed down as Imam Abdul Bari’s recitation flowed through the congregation.

The figure dressed in the black hoodie detached itself from the crowd and slunk into the hallway, tailed by Khalid in his white robe. Ayesha squeezed Nana’s hand and followed right behind them. The man in the black hoodie looked familiar.

In the empty hallway, Khalid’s voice bellowed out, “TAREK, STOP!”

Tarek turned around, smirking.

Khalid walked swiftly up to Tarek and punched him in the face. Tarek fell to the ground.

“So typical of you extremists,” he sneered, rubbing his jaw. “You always resort to violence.”

Khalid stood over him, massaging his split fist. “Why did you do it?” he asked.

Tarek slowly sat up as Ayesha bounded over to them.

“Where’s Hafsa?” she demanded.

Khalid raised his fist again. “Tell me why!”

Tarek shrugged. “You don’t recognize me, do you? We only saw each other once, at the airport twelve years ago. Your mother took Zareena away from me. I tried to put it all behind me, even after Lauren told me about the abortion, but I couldn’t. When I met you and your mother again, I realized she was still a monster. I had to do something.”

Khalid slowly sank down to his haunches, looking dazed. “I don’t understand.”

“I wanted to humiliate your Ammi in public. To unmask her as a hypocrite and fraud in front of everyone. She sent away her own daughter to India because she was afraid of losing face in front of those people. Now no one will ever talk to her again.”

“What about Hafsa?” Ayesha asked.

Tarek shrugged again. “She was Khalid’s fiancée, Farzana’s carefully hand-picked selection. I thought it would kill her if she knew her precious arranged bride was with me. I’m done with her now. I dropped her off at home.”

Ayesha made a move toward him, but Tarek scrambled away. “I’m a hero,” he said over his shoulder. “Farzana is a bully. Someone had to teach her a lesson. Don’t behave like you’re any better than me. When I told you Khalid and his family almost killed Zareena, you believed me.” He started laughing, and the ugly sound bounced off the concrete walls. “Of course you did. He even looks like a villain. You swallowed every word because in your heart, you don’t trust him, and you never will.”

Khalid and Ayesha stared at each other. “It’s not true,” she said, her voice small.

There was a wail from the gym. With an apologetic look at Ayesha, Khalid ran off to find his mother. When Ayesha looked back, Tarek was gone.





Chapter Forty-One

Ammi said nothing on the ride home, her silence more disturbing than the running commentary Khalid had expected.

“Ammi,” Khalid said.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned away from him, her face to the window.

“All of this happened because we don’t talk about anything,” Khalid said, keeping his voice gentle. “Please, Ammi.”

But she refused to say another word. He unlocked the front door and she walked inside the house, her eyes staring resolutely ahead. He followed her inside; he had never seen his mother like this. She was always talking, complaining, ranting, bending others to her will. Never silent.

“Why did you accuse the imam when you knew Tarek took the money?” Khalid asked. He stood in the hallway, watching as she climbed the stairs.