The Other Half of My Soul (9 page)

Hearing Rayna’s outcry, Rami rushed toward her sounds. From behind, he grabbed Jonathan’s left arm and twisted it behind his back. Startled, Jonathan dropped his grip on Rayna and spun around. He lunged at Rami, but Rami was quicker. Drawing up his knee, Rami rammed it into Jonathan’s groin, leaving him doubled over in pain and spewing out a mouthful of profanities.

“Next time, I will not be so gentle. Stay away from Rayna. This is your final warning.”

* * *

After having just come from a harrowing meeting with Abdallah, Rami’s tolerance was on a short leash. Taking Rayna by the hand, he led her across campus and back to the dorm. “I asked you to wait. In all these weeks, have I ever been late for you? Patience! Do you know the meaning of the word? Is it too much to ask of you?” For the first time, Rami was angry with Rayna.

“I should have waited.”

“Why are you unable to see that I am concerned for your safety? I could not help being late. Sometimes it will happen. The meeting with Abdallah was beyond my control. I was not late on purpose. Next time I ask something of you, do not disregard me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What if I had not arrived when I did? Do not do this to me again.”

“I won’t.”

“I care too much about you. I wish you could see that.”

eleven

May the fires of your love keep you happy and warm. May the strength of your love keep you safe from all harm. May the light of your love guide your pathways together. May the joy of your love keep you happy forever.

—Indian marriage blessing

From the onset, there was mutual trust and respect between Rami and Nolan. Both were of the same mindset—the bacteria were never to fall into Yousef’s hands. However, Nolan needed Yousef’s financial backing to continue the project, and Rami needed Yousef to continue perceiving him as the indispensable link to Nolan. So the professor and the student made a pact to extend the duration of their undertaking for as long as they could get away with it.

* * *

On March 7, after Friday noon prayers, Abdallah summoned Rami into the imam’s office. “But I have classes this afternoon and need a ride back with Omar,” Rami grumbled.

“This won’t take long. Omar can wait. Now, sit.” It was no secret that Abdallah and Rami did not like each other. Early on, Abdallah pushed to get rid of Rami. It was Yousef who had decided that Rami was to stay. “Yousef is upset. And when Yousef is upset, then I’m upset. We don’t like your rebellious nature. Now, I want to know who instructed you to form an exclusive relationship with the professor, or did you come to that arrangement on your own? Nolan won’t even take our calls . . . you will pay heavily for this. I’ll make sure of it.”

“An agreement was made last December in the Bekaa Valley. Remember? You give me my freedom and my own car. I give to Yousef the perfected bacteria from Doctor Nolan. I am living up to my end of the deal. Are you?”

“No, you are not! We never agreed for you to be the only contact with Doctor Nolan.”

“I cannot help what the professor chooses to do. Do you want me to deliver the final product or not?” Rami was keenly aware of Yousef’s consuming desperation for the bacteria.

“Yousef wants you in the Triple Frontier. We’ve arranged for a brief trip.”

“How long is a brief trip? I have classes.”

“Well, maybe we can end your schooling here and make your brief trip a permanent one.”

Anxiety pulsated through Rami’s veins. The last thing in the world he wanted was to be separated from Rayna, so he lied. “Abdallah, there is something I failed to mention. Something you and Yousef should know. Yesterday, Nolan received a tempting offer from other backers. If you or Yousef object to Nolan’s parameters, then al-Shahid is history. Another sponsor is waiting to usurp you.”

“Yousef doesn’t like those kind of messages. Here, you be the messenger.” Abdallah lifted the phone and dialed Yousef. After a brief exchange, he passed the handset to Rami. “Why don’t you tell Yousef what you just told me?”

In Arabic, Yousef exploded at Rami, ordering him to the Triple Frontier.

“I have classes . . .”

“And a very beautiful girlfriend, I hear.”

A chill shot up Rami’s spine. “How much longer do you intend to keep me under surveillance? I thought we had an agreement. The perfected bacteria in exchange for . . .”

“No, Rami. You will not make demands on me or the organ-ization. Your position is to do what you’re told.”

Rami had to do something fast. His brain jumped into full gear, assessing the situation and betting on a new strategy. “You want me in the Triple Frontier? Okay, Yousef, I will not argue with you. Book me on the next flight. And while you are at it, I suggest you find a replacement for me before Nolan supplants al-Shahid with the new backers waiting at his doorstep.”

A long silence infused the phone lines. “I don’t believe you, Rami.”

“Refresh my memory, Yousef. How many men have you already put on this assignment, including Abdallah? At least five that I know of. All have failed, if my facts are correct. Right now, I am your only hope. Nolan will work with me. But this is your call.” Rami waited.

“Who are the other backers?”

“Oh, no. I am not so stupid to lay all my cards out for you to see. You only have to know that you asked me to do a job and I am doing it. When I make an agreement, I keep it. The choice is, either you trust me or you do not.” Rami reveled in how well he had taken the lead, not aware of the false sense of security ensnaring him.

Yousef’s vile rage, cursing Rami in the most profane of Arabic damnations, caught Rami completely off guard. Rami’s blood curdled. He said nothing. The sounds of Yousef’s heavy breathing were interrupted only by periods of ghostly silence.

“You’ve backed me into a corner, Rami. Know that I have a long memory.”

With an evil smile distorting his face, Abdallah took the phone from Rami, conversed with Yousef, then looked up at Rami. “Yousef wants you to stay and work with Nolan. You will provide him with weekly progress reports.”

A temporary reprieve.
Rami pushed his luck. “The spying must stop.”

Abdallah nodded.

“A car was promised. I do not want to keep sharing Omar’s car. When do I get my own?”

“Yousef said you will have a car next week.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Rami. “The number for Yousef’s direct line. You’re to call him weekly with updates on Nolan’s progress. And, Rami . . .”

“Yes, Abdallah . . .”

“Don’t think this is over. Your trip to South America has only been postponed until summer. It is
not
canceled.”

* * *

Later that day, Rami sat in the dorm room and waited. The time was five o’clock. Rayna was late. The key turned in the door.

“Sorry. I was at the library and lost track of time.” Rayna bent and kissed Rami. He did not respond. She kissed him again. Nothing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, hurrying to freshen up and change clothes.

“
Patiently
. I have been waiting for you,
patiently
,” he said, reminding Rayna of her impatience a few nights earlier when he had asked her to wait for him at Hillel.

“Your point is well taken. I said I was sorry. Now, can we please drop it?”

“How much longer will you be?”

“Ten minutes. I’ll be quick.”

“We still have to stop and pick up challah and dessert . . . and fight rush-hour traffic. You did say Marisa was expecting us at six?” Rami looked at his watch.

“Yes.” Observing Rami, Rayna saw that he seemed troubled. She kicked herself for snapping. “Do you not want to go?”

“Did I say that?”

“No.”

“Then why would you assume . . .”

She put her arms out, “I need a hug.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

Rami slowed the car to a crawl in the bumper-to-bumper traffic. Rayna reached over and touched his hand. “You had a hard day, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what happened.”

As Rami related all that had transpired at the mosque that afternoon, Rayna lovingly kneaded the back of his head and neck. “I marvel at your diplomatic skills. You should be working for the United Nations. I bet you could solve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.”

“Really?”

“Mmmm.” She leaned over and stroked him between the legs.

“You better watch out or I will have to pull over and we will be late for dinner.”

“In that case, I should stop.”

“Did I say you should stop?” He pulled her close. “I adore you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Rami . . .”

“What?”

“Rami . . .”

“What,
rrawhee
?” He hit the brake as a minivan cut in front of him.

“Don’t you find it strange that Yousef has never come here to Washington . . . to the United States? If he is so bothered about your having this exclusive relationship with Professor Nolan, and if he wants his own personal connection with the man, wouldn’t you think Yousef would come here himself? Something is not right. Yousef caved into you much too easily.”

“Tell me what is going on in that gorgeous head of yours.”

“Well, maybe Yousef can’t come to America. Maybe he would be arrested. Maybe he’s a wanted man . . . by the FBI or the CIA. Do you know his last name?”

“No.”

“Find out. When I start my internship at
InterContinental Weekly
this summer, I’ll do some investigating.”

* * *

“Come on in,” Marisa greeted the couple.

“Sorry we’re late. The traffic . . .”

“No, no. Your timing is perfect. We haven’t lit the candles yet.”

Three-year-old Miriam jumped into Rayna’s arms. Jason appeared in the entranceway and kissed Rayna on the cheek, “The children have missed you.”

Rayna beamed, “Everyone, this is Rami.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” inquired six-year-old Joseph.

“Yes, Rami is my boyfriend,” she smiled with amusement. Then pointing to the family of five, Rayna introduced Rami to each one.

“I got an air-hockey table for my birthday. You wanna see it?” Eight-year-old David had taken Rami’s hand and was eagerly coaxing him downstairs to the finished basement.

“I would very much like to see your new hockey table.” Rami followed David down the steps.

“I wanna play, too.” Joseph made his wants known as he trailed behind.

“I can see the boys have hooked Rami into playing,” Jason laughed.

“Thanks for the challahs and dessert,” Marisa called out as she put the two whole loaves on a large silver platter and covered them with a decorative Israeli weave.

Jason filled a small silver goblet to the brim with Manishewitz blackberry wine and called down to the boys. “Okay guys, it’s time to come up. Everyone wash hands.”

* * *

They all gathered in the dining room. Two silver candlesticks stood regally on the long buffet. A quiet reverence descended over the room. Marisa loosely draped a white-lace scarf over her head. She lit the candles, encircled the flames three times with her hands, and in Hebrew chanted the prayer welcoming in the light of the sabbath.

Rayna whispered in Rami’s ear, “Ashkenazie women circle the candles three times, not Sephardic women.”

Soon, everyone took their seats around the elegantly set table. Little Miriam insisted on sitting next to Rayna. In Hebrew, Jason recited the blessing over the wine, drank from the chalice, then passed it around for all to sip. Rayna looked at Rami, knowing that Islam forbade the imbibing of wine or any alcoholic beverage. When Marisa handed the half-empty goblet to Rami, Rayna tactfully took the cup from him. She touched her lips to the rim, then passed it to the children.

Jason held up the challah platter and delivered the Hebrew prayer thanking God for the bread they were about to eat. The children’s eyes were intent on their father as he broke off a piece for himself, then pulled out chunks of the soft fresh dough and passed around portions for everyone at the table. Rami watched with delight as the children devoured their pieces of challah, then enthusiastically attacked the balance of the loaf, ripping out the insides.

Rayna helped Marisa bring in the meal. There was chicken soup with matzo-balls, salad, roasted chicken, potato kugel, and carrot tzimmes. Noisy chatter from the children saturated the room. “Me first,” Joseph demanded as his big eyes zeroed in on Rayna slicing the lemon meringue pie.

“No, Joseph. You know better. What have you learned about patience?” Marisa reprimanded.

“Patience is not so easy,” Rayna said to Joseph while serving him a piece of pie. “Even I sometimes have a hard time being patient.” She glanced at Rami and winked.

With each spoonful, the children smacked their lips with pleasure, then asked for seconds. “Your dessert made a big hit. Thank you,” said Jason.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Rami reciprocated. “You have a wonderful family.”

Miriam climbed onto Rayna’s lap, fingering her diamond pendant. “Mommy, I want Rayna to give me my bath.”

When Marisa nodded her approval, Rayna hugged the little girl, “I’ll race you upstairs.” Giggling, the two made a wild dash for the steps.

“Come on guys, shower time,” Marisa signaled to Joseph and David, who clearly preferred to go back downstairs with Rami and play table hockey.

* * *

In the kitchen, Rami and Jason were left to clean up. “Marisa says the two of you want to marry. Other than Rayna’s beauty, why would a Muslim marry a Jew? Are you aware of all the difficulties this will cause her . . . or don’t you care? Marriage to a Muslim is not in Rayna’s interest, and it’s unfair of you to toy with her life. You will only hurt her. For Rayna’s sake, I’m asking you not to do this.”

Not expecting this invasion, Rami was disturbed at Jason’s assessment and decided to leave as soon as Rayna came down the steps. His day had been difficult enough with Yousef and Abdallah. He did not need more turmoil. “Why is it that people must be categorized? Good, bad. Black, white. Jew, Muslim, Christian . . . or whatever else. History is rampant with religious wars, hatred, intolerance. From childhood, we are taught. Our innocent beginnings are contaminated. How sad for all of us that we live in such a divided world. I only know that I love Rayna. We accept each other for who we are. She has taught me a lot about Judaism and I have taught her a lot about Islam. Our religions are not so far apart.”

“Intellectually, you make a lot of sense, Rami. But reality is what you must live with. I’m thirty-eight years old. You’re only eighteen. You and Rayna are too young to take this kind of drastic step. Twenty years from now, when you’re my age, you both will regret this, if you survive that long. There are consequences to everything. Why don’t you just date while you’re in college and enjoy your few years together? Then you can easily go your separate ways and no one gets hurt.”

“Do you love your wife?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Did you marry her because she is Jewish or because you love her?”

“I married her because I love her.”

“If she were not Jewish, would you still have married her?”

Jason did not answer.

Rayna descended the steps, informing Jason that his children were waiting to be tucked in. Jason smiled, “I’ll be fifteen minutes. They’ll get extra-long storytime tomorrow night. Marisa should be down in a minute and we’ll have tea and talk more.” Jason climbed the steps.