Tale In The Red Sand

Chapter Twenty-one

Ercole excused himself after checking his costly wrist watch, a few minutes after of what Hibaaq would've hoped to be an easygoing breakfast. She wasn't alone for long though, her grandmother teetered in with her cane loudly hitting the floor. Hibaaq was in the middle of rolling her eyes, remembering the class she had to attend, and the dreadful lecture from her professor, scolding her for missing classes. Her eyes then landed on Ayeeyo Warsam, catching her elder and searing irises. Hibaaq cleared her throat, praying that she wouldn't mistake the action as an act of insolence towards her.

She wasn't in the particular mood to withstand her grandmother's hostile words, pricking her skin like a thousand tiny needles. Though she received daggers, instead as Ayeeyo Warsam pinned her with a cold stare. The undefined resentment her grandmother had for her got to her on worse days than others.

Then a throaty chuckle dragged Hibaaq out of her thoughts. She glanced over at Ayeeyo Warsam at the head of the table, and was rendered mystified looking at the smile on her aged face. She couldn't quite remember the last time she had seen the old woman express any emotion close to happiness. Hibaaq was in doubt of herself ever witnessing it. Ayeeyo Warsam continued to cackle at a joke only she obviously knew, then her cackling turned into unruly coughing. Hibaaq hurried to pour a cup of water from the glass pitcher and brought it to her grandmother. Her eyebrows furrowed, worried and yet perplexed.

"I laughed a bit too hard didn't I?" Her laughing had ceased but the eerie grin remained. Hibaaq stood next to her chair, gazing down at her grandmother, wondering if there was an underlying issue in her cheerfulness as bleak as it sounded. This was unlike her. "I'm only glad the boy will be leaving soon. His presence is an offence, I don't know what your father was thinking bringing him here." She stated, pulling the tray of buttered canjeelo to fill her plate.

Hibaaq's tongue felt heavy in her mouth as if it had been replaced with lead, she was unable to speak. She didn't know whether to believe her grandmother or not, though the truth admittedly hurt sometimes. As troublesome as Ayeeyo Warsam's words were, Hibaaq always had the thoughts of his inevitable departure in the back of her mind. Other than working under her father's corporation, Ercole didn't belong here. He had a life outside of these borders, a family, his own place to call home. A place where the people resembled him, spoke the same language and were taught the same culture and ethics as him. A place that she was a stranger to. After all, Hibaaq couldn't just live in her foolish pipe dream, she prompted herself to wake up and smell the roses. How she thought that he could stay under the same roof as her forever, she didn't know, for he was not family, a husband or someone to call a mahram.

Hibaaq was left desolate for she didn't know what to make of her unwavering sentiments. At her silent agitation, her grandmother began to tut disappointedly as feigned sympathy daubed her mature features. "You'll come to realise it too, macaanto." She remarked. The term of endearment sounding anything but sweet.

"Excuse me." Hibaaq made her swift escape as the air was no longer breathable in that room. Her tears brimmed on her way, and from the dinning room behind her, Ayeeyo Warsam hummed jovially.

...

Hibaaq brought her beetle to a slow stop in an empty spot in the parking space of her university. She pulled on her side bag, heavy with school books, sighing as she shifted to get out. The task seemed almost unattainable with the frolicking couple that idled close to her car. Except if she pushed her door open and sent them kissing the gravelly ground beneath them. They tittered quietly at one another, the guy stroking the pretty locks on his lover's head.

Hibaaq grimaced at the outward displays of affection, her upper lip twitching in irritation. She loudly knocked on her window and motioned for them to move the way one would shoo stray cats away from their lawns. They stared at her, startled, like wild animals caught in headlights as if the world had consisted of only the two of them before Hibaaq's jolting knock. They hurried off ahead of her as she finally exited her car, rolling her eyes at their not so discreet grumbles of scorn.