The Other Half of My Soul (28 page)

Alexis walked toward them. The emergency room was already being inundated with the wounded. “What is it? Here, come sit. I only have a minute. We’re short on staff given the crisis on our hands, and I’ve been told that I will be working all day.”

“Alexis . . . Alexis . . .” Rami mumbled, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

The color in Rayna’s face faded. Her eyeballs rolled back and her body spiraled downward. Rami caught his wife and eased her onto the vinyl sofa. Alexis grabbed at Rami’s shirt. “What’s wrong? Where’s Eli? What’s wrong, Rami?”

Rami struggled to put into words what he must say. “Eli . . . Eli . . . Alexis . . . Eli was in the south tower . . . ninety-first floor . . .”

“No! No!” Crazed, she reached into the pocket of her white medical coat for her cell phone. Nervously, she dialed Eli.

Rami gently removed the phone from her hand, turned it off, and returned it to Alexis’s pocket. “Alexis, Eli was trapped. Eli is . . . he did not have a chance. His soul is now with God . . . up in heaven.”

Hysterically, Alexis beat on Rami’s chest, then fell to her knees sobbing. Rami lowered himself to Alexis and held her. They cried together.

thirty-two

On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed: How many shall leave this world and how many shall be born into it; who shall rest and who shall wander; who shall be at peace and who shall be tormented.

—The Rabbinical Assembly in the Mahzor

“Alexis is sleeping. The doctor gave her a sedative.” Rayna blotted her swollen eyes with a tissue. “I’m going downstairs to stay with Alexis tonight. I won’t leave her alone.” She looked at Rami. His eyes were red and puffy. “My dad is with her right now. He doesn’t want to go home.” Her voice cracked and she cried.

“Your father can sleep here in the guest room. He can stay with us for as long as he wants . . . as long as he needs. It will be okay.” Rami touched Rayna’s hand. They found comfort in the moment.

Rayna shifted her gaze toward Kamil. Her lower lip quivered. “Now there are only two musketeers.”

Grief stricken, Kamil had been quietly studying the affection between Rami and Rayna. An emptiness had been gnawing away at his restless spirit for a time longer than he could remember. Kamil’s eyes watered. Rayna’s words had pounded in the reality of his own suffering. He would never again see Eli. Closing his eyes, Kamil felt Eli’s energy. Eli had become more than a close friend. He had become a brother. It was Eli who stood by him through an acrimonious divorce from Maddy, and a contentious custody battle for Nida. It was Eli who secured a place for him in their family. It was Eli who introduced him to the exhilarating world of basketball. Eli’s zest for life was contagious.
How could this happen? Why did this happen?
Kamil mourned Eli’s passing as greatly as the others did.

Rayna knelt down beside him. “Kamil, Rami and I want you to be here with us tonight. I’ll make up the sofa.”

“Thank you.” He found Rayna’s presence comforting. “I’m sorry you lost your brother. I’m sorry we all lost Eli.” Kamil’s voice splintered and he fought to keep the sorrow from completely overtaking him. “I’ll do anything, whatever I can to help Alexis through this . . . to help all of us through this.”

“Thank you, Kamil. A while ago, I spoke with Alexis’s mother. As soon as her parents can leave Greece, they will come and take her home. Right now, all flights into the United States are cancelled indefinitely.”

* * *

“The FBI, the CIA, I don’t know who else, but they’ll ask questions. I lied to Simon. I told him that the anonymous call at four in the morning was on my line and that my caller ID showed an unrecognizable international communication. Simon and I will be interrogated. So will everyone at
InterContinental Weekly
, including you and Rayna. Everyone will be suspect.”

“But Omar’s call cannot be traced. It was an . . .”

“It’s not that simple, Rami. Your call to me can be traced. They’ll want to know why you, or Rayna, phoned me at four in the morning. You need to have a credible explanation, one that we both can coordinate and live with.”

“I will work on it, Kamil. But another time. Right now, I cannot think straight.”

* * *

Immersed at Ground Zero for two weeks, Rami, Rayna, Kamil, and Abe were determined to stay close to Alexis. They were not going to let her crumble. Ironically, consoling Alexis brought all of them comfort.

Wavering between hope and despair, the grieving clan displayed Eli’s photos and looked for information on each body that was pulled from the wreckage. They investigated every name as it became known. They made daily inquiries at the hospitals and the city morgue. Abe blamed himself for sending his son into that early morning meeting. Rami and Rayna faulted themselves for not trying to reach Eli earlier in the morning, while he was still at home. Kamil condemned himself for not being more persistent in trying to reach others who might have been able to prevent the tragedy. Tormented, they all beat themselves into emotional turbulence.

* * *

By late September, Alexis’s parents were finally able to get a flight into New York. They came from Greece to take her home. Reluctantly, she went back with them. One month later, she returned to New York and threw herself into her residency at the hospital.

* * *

“We understand all of your staff was ordered
not
to go to work the morning of September eleventh. Why did you instruct your receptionist to make those calls? What did you know that we didn’t know?” The FBI agent was intent on grilling Simon to a pulp.

“I knew a whole lot less than you did. If you had heeded the warning signs. If you had followed up on your reports and leads. If someone had taken my calls seriously. If you had done your job . . .” Strong and outspoken, Simon refused to be intimidated.

* * *

“Muslim fundamentalists would like to see you dead because of the things you write. You expose too much of their destructive side, too many of their secrets. You’re a hindrance to their jihadi cause.” From across the desk, the FBI agent baited Kamil.

Kamil did not respond. He only stared in defiance at the man.

“Don’t play games with me. I want the truth or . . .”

“Or what? I’m giving you the truth.” Kamil’s anger was escalating. “Why now? Why didn’t you investigate this before September eleventh?”

The agent ignored Kamil’s questions. “Rayna Mishan, or her husband, phoned you around four in the morning on September eleventh. We traced it. Why would either of them call at such an hour?”

Arrogantly, Kamil shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“I think we’ve had enough for today. Be back here at nine sharp tomorrow.”

* * *

Weeks of questioning persisted. The FBI traced phone lines and searched the homes of all employees at the magazine. Frustrated, they found nothing. Moreover, to the embarrassment of both the FBI and CIA, their investigations turned up several calls made by Simon and Kamil, who both had tried to alert the proper people. Their stories had proven credible.

When the FBI turned their inquiries on Rami and Rayna, questioning them separately, the two were prepared. Conditioned by Kamil’s drilling, the couple had coordinated and rehearsed their stories.

Rami had answered the phone. No idea who called at four in the morning. Caller ID showed no identity. Check with the phone company; they keep records. The cell phone was lost on campus. Did not discover it missing until the following day. With the devastation of the attacks and losing Eli, did not report the cell phone missing for two days. There is a record of that, too. Kamil’s number was stored in memory dial and was always the first to come up. Whoever found my cell must have dialed Kamil, purposely or accidentally. That is how you traced the number to us. That is all I can tell you.

In reality, Kamil had taken Rami’s cell and destroyed it, never again to be found.

* * *

The two agencies found themselves inundated with chaos and confusion, information and misinformation, and mounting revelations of failures and incompetencies. FBI and CIA staff members scrambled to conceal evidence of their own bunglings in the wake of a congressional investigation. Simon and Kamil were no longer significant. Neither were Rami and Rayna. “Do not waste time chasing false leads,” came orders from above.

* * *

At their temporary offices in Midtown Manhattan, Kamil and Rayna teamed up to channel their energies into making Eli’s death not pass in vain. Together, they wrote about the great failings within the American government, exposing every flaw they could uncover. They pressed for a full inquiry into September 11 and stood in support of the victims’ families. They also wrote extensively about the spread of Islamism, delving into topics ranging from the quest for new world dominance, inhumane logic of suicide terrorism, Wahabiism and the Quran in Saudi Arabia, the rise of Osama bin Laden, and the inferior status of Muslim women. Parading the facts on the pages of
InterContinental Weekly
brought them threats, plaudits, and greater celebrity status. Requests for interviews and speaking engagements escalated. After a time, Rayna eased off. She had to finish school and was emotionally exhausted.

* * *

The ensuing months wove stronger links between the five individuals who had been so solidly tied to Eli. Rami, Rayna, Kamil, and Abe hovered over Alexis. Rayna prepared meals and made sure that Alexis ate. Rami did her laundry. Kamil chauffeured her back and forth to the hospital, no matter what time her shifts began or ended. Abe took breakfast to her every morning and sat with her, just as Eli had done. Their presence was the saving grace in Alexis’s life.

* * *

Deliberately, Kamil began nurturing a romance with Alexis. He spent more and more hours with her and paid special attention to her needs, although she asked for little. Their long talks about Eli brought comfort, laughter, tears, and healing. When Kamil detailed the gruesome butchering of his own family during the Hamah massacre, Alexis responded with tenderness and compassion. Over time, their talks expanded beyond their grief. Kamil’s boundless curiosity about medicine never failed to bring a response from Alexis, although she sometimes teased him about wanting to know in one day what it took her years to learn. Her limitless desire to know more about the world always generated long recitals from Kamil.

* * *

By June 2002, Kamil was sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Alexis. She had captured his heart. Alexis was intelligent and kind. She had an unassuming manner. And she doted on Nida. Her short blonde hair fell softly around her face, accentuating her large doe-shaped green eyes. Light freckles dotted her flawless complexion. Her slender frame almost reached Kamil’s height. Alexis looked more Scandinavian than Mediterranean. To Kamil, Alexis was beautiful inside and out. He was hypnotized.

* * *

Early one evening in late July, after finishing dinner at a neighborhood restaurant, the two leisurely strolled back to Alexis’s apartment. The sun from the long summer day still brightened the sky. Out on the street, people emerged from the subway, or disembarked from a bus. The workday had ended. The hustle and bustle of city life had softened. Kamil took Alexis’s hand. When she did not pull away, he hoped it was a sign that she would accept him completely into her life, just as she once had done with Eli. “Alexis, in you, I have found the love of my life. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

* * *

In Judaism, if there is no body, then there cannot be a burial. Without a burial, there is no funeral.

“Rayna, I need to talk with you. You know how much I loved your brother . . . and I need you to help me.” Rayna’s arms reached out to Alexis. The two women hugged.

“I want to do right by Eli. His family and friends deserve to say goodbye to him. I want Eli to know how many lives he touched in his short time on earth. I want him to know that he will always have a special place inside each of us. I want a memorial service for my husband. To celebrate his memory, his goodness, his life. To say goodbye, and wish him well, wherever he may be.”

“Of course, I will help you. We’ll plan a very moving service.”

“Rayna . . . Rayna . . . ummm . . . there’s something else.”

“What is it?”

Alexis stumbled, “Ummm, well . . . nothing. Nothing.”

“It’s something. Please tell me what it is.”

“Why did you marry Rami? Why did you marry a Muslim?”

“Because my love for Rami runs so deep. I cannot put it into words. I can only feel it. Why do you ask?”

“Is it possible, in one’s lifetime, to love two men with the same intensity and passion?”

“You love Kamil, don’t you?”

“Are you angry?”

“No, Alexis, I’m not angry.”

“I’m terrified and full of guilt. I didn’t mean for it to happen. To betray Eli. To love a Muslim, knowing what it will do to my family.”

“Does Kamil know?”

“Yes. He loves me as much. I think more.”

“Kamil is a good man. Eli was quite fond of him, remember? He adopted Kamil, made him his brother.”

“I remember,” Alexis smiled.

“In the Tanakh, when a married man died, the brother of the dead man was obligated to marry his widow. Remember the story of Judah and his daughter-in-law, Tamar?”

“So I am not betraying Eli?”

“No.” Rayna embraced her sister-in-law. “Let your love flow again. Start a new chapter. Destiny has brought you both together by a most unexpected circumstance.”

* * *

On Wednesday, September 11, 2002, mid-week between the two holiest times on the Jewish calendar, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, a memorial service was held for Eli. It had been exactly one year. The whole country was remembering and mourning the senseless deaths of so many Americans.

Hundreds of people filled the sanctuary in the big shul on Ocean Parkway. Many eulogies were given. Abe honored his son. Alexis glorified her husband. Relatives and close friends praised the young man who had always been so full of zest and who had left an indelible mark on so many.

Rayna wanted to speak about her brother, to pay tribute to the person she loved so much, to thank him for all he was, for all he had done. But she could not. A large crowd from the Syrian community was there. The rabbis were there. All had condemned her for marrying a Muslim.
I must honor my brother’s memory and the sacredness of this service. My speaking out will only serve to trigger the ire of these people and spoil the reverence for Eli
. Rayna lifted her eyes to the heavens, hoping Eli could know her thoughts.
You will always be with me, Eli. My memories will keep you alive. Rami and I will name our first son after you, and he will know you.
Sitting quietly next to her husband, she placed her hand in his, knowing how much he and Kamil wanted to speak, knowing how unwise it would have been to do so. The service went on for more than two hours. There was not a dry eye in the room.

* * *

A catered lunch in the social hall followed. Sarah purposely cornered Rayna in the ladies’ room. “You have guts showing up here with that Muslim. This community doesn’t want you. None of us want you. I suggest you leave now, and never come back!”