Bourbon on the rocks

Page 2

04.march 1994

Dear Leila,

I had found myself passed out on the marble floor you asked so deeply of the day we redid the floor together with shards of broken glass that flew across the room and around my body like a sacrificial circle, and I was in the middle of it all.

Danial has not spoken a word, and it is currently noon, lunchtime, and he still has not gone out of his room. I knocked on the door and opened it to see if he was alive, but he only sat there in front of the mirror. I could not notice if he was alive or dead. But, he sat there like the Buddha statue we saw on our trip to Thailand on our honeymoon.

I sit here writing this to you as I listen to the calm waves sailing by. I wish you were here, ya Leila, I do. I regret to inform myself every morning when I twist to my side that your side of the bed is empty and cold now. Your perfumes are still on your vanity table, and the pillow still smells of the coconut shampoo that you raved so much about because you were sure that this shampoo fit your curls exactly.

I wish you would just come back to life. If a prophet could do it, why do you not? I might be too hungover to understand what I am writing, but all I truly want is to reset the clock to the past and relive the moments again with you with the fog filling the air. It is all I truly want, you, the fog, whiskey, and the beach, my darling.

I almost feel stuck and choked on the spot. Your empty space is eating me alive. I am tired of feeling this lonesome without you, my soulmate, my darling, and my heaven.

Love,

Your angel, Mustafa.

-

The sun had risen and was shining in-between the fog as the rain trickled down like small waterfalls from the sky. Mustafa only sat there looking at the water and closing his eyes. He sat his glass down on the wooden table and smiled. He remembers when they first came here a pregnant Leila and a tired Mustafa.

-

It was a warm summer afternoon. Leila was one month due, and Mustafa was carrying too many news articles listing houses to visit. Leila was hungry and cranky because she has not blinked her eye in peace in two days because of Danial's kicking.

-Hobi, what about this one? Mustafa exclaimed, hoping to please Leila's picky mind as they walked down the large wood patio, circling at the end of the cliff looking out to the mouth-watering ocean view Mustafa had only dreamt of in his wildest dreams.

Suddenly Leila starts shouting in pain,

-Mustafa, my water broke! She moaned while trying to hang on the wooden rail as Mustafa ran to her, dropping the news articles all over the patio as they flew in all different directions.

The realtor ran down from the kitchen calling 911 on the phone as she speeded to Leila's mercy, poor girl, she was expecting a baby in a home she did not even get to see. How petty life can be?

-

Mustafa was cleaning yesterday's dishes as a wild Danial appeared. He opened the fridge, examined it, and walked to the patio still on mute-mode.

-Ibni, please, I beg you, talk to baba. Mustafa walked over to Danial and hugged him from behind. He caught him off guard he did not move. His hands were like frozen icicles and his body like bark.

-Baba, please, I want to hear your sweet as honey voice talk. Press unmute, come on. Mustafa chuckled as he kissed Danial's shoulder. Yet, Danial did not budge. He stood, not moving to stay still.

Mustafa felt hopeless, his heart pounding and his mind racing, he started shivering. He fell to his knees crying before Danial's feet, holding his knees close to his chest and rocking back-to-forth like a child throwing a tantrum. Mustafa was squeaking, feeling his airways tightened almost closed, his chest bumping high and low and his mind flying in circles like Daffy Duck in Looney tunes.

Danial crouched down, putting his hair behind his ears as his hands rested on Mustafa's shoulder, and smiled weakly as a tear trickled down his cheek. They were lost, in a world ready to bite their heads off now.