Sequoia Valley: Imperfect (Free Preview)

15

“Jâsim, habîbî...” his mother said as she was placing the frying pan into the dishwasher, speaking in a careful tone that hinted he might not like what she was about to say. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble with your studies?”

Jâsim froze and then turned to stare at her. Until that very moment, he hadn’t thought too hard about what James and his mother had discussed at the parents’ conference. It was now glaringly clear what it had been, for only James knew he was struggling. Jâsim had never felt so betrayed. James understood him better than anyone else, so he’d assumed he would keep his secret.

“He told you?!” he burst out hotly. “He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!”

“Jâsim...” Sumayyah’s tone remained gentle, but there was a note of warning in her voice.

Jâsim was too furious to apologize for his tone. Instead, he stormed out of the kitchen, marched to the front door, and left the house, slamming the door behind him. Too focused on his goal, he didn’t even remember to ask his mother for permission to leave as he usually did.

James was exactly where Jâsim expected him to be. He was seated at the table on his porch with a mug of coffee in front of him as he read a book.

Betrayal coursing through him, Jâsim stormed up the steps to confront him. “You told her!”

James lowered his book, setting it face-down on the table, and looked at him, but he didn’t show any signs of being upset that someone less than half his age was raising his voice to him. His calm nature was admirable, but it also frustrated Jâsim. It was annoying to be so angry when the other person remained calm and unruffled.

“How could you?!” he continued. “I trusted you! You weren’t supposed to tell anyone! Who else did you tell?!”

In the back of his mind, Jâsim knew it was wrong to speak that way to anyone, especially an adult so much older than him. If he dared to speak to his mother the way he had spoken to James on several occasions, there would be hefty consequences to pay. Khâlu Badr wouldn’t have tolerated it. Even Khâlu Jâsim and Khâlu Waleed, as laid-back as they were, wouldn’t accept it from him.

Just as he turned to stalk away, James finally spoke, “Jâsim.” The pronunciation of his name carried a mixture of compassion and firmness in it. “Come and sit.”

Jâsim turned back to look at him with flashing eyes. “Why should I?”

“Well, a man would sit down and listen to what a person has to say rather than going off on his own presumptions,” James said casually, picking up his coffee mug and taking a slow sip. “Children, on the other hand, usually aren’t ready to listen to reason. Which one are you?”

That stopped Jâsim. He didn’t like the idea of being compared to a young child who had tantrums and could not comprehend or listen to the reasoning of an adult. Jâsim didn’t consider himself a child anymore. Islâmically, with the onset of puberty, he no longer was and didn’t want to be looked at as one. So even though still angry, he marched back up the stairs and sat down in the chair opposite James to listen, unable to help crossing his arms defiantly as he glared at his companion.

“I only told your mother, and your uncle since he was there,” James began, speaking in his usual warm tones. “And I certainly didn’t tell them to make you feel bad. You’re a smart young man, Jâsim, but you do need help in some areas, and the only way I can really help you is if your mother cooperates with me.”

“Bet Mâmâ doesn’t think I’m so smart now,” Jâsim retorted.

“That’s not true,” James replied. “I may not know your mother very well, but I’m sure she sees the same thing I do, an intelligent young man with a lot of potential who just needs a little help to find his way.”

Jâsim could feel his anger cooling, replaced by the hope James’s last words planted. Maybe it was the effect of James’s composed manner, even in the face of his anger, or maybe it was the conviction in his tone. “You really believe that?”

“Yes, I do,” James said firmly, his tone sincere. “I know you want to catch up and be like your classmates, but the only way that will happen is if your family and I work together to help you, and if you are honest with both me and your mother about what you’re struggling with. I asked you several times if you needed help with any other subjects and you told me you didn’t, but the things I’ve heard from your other teachers tells me that you do need help.”

Jâsim bowed his head in shame. “Why can’t I do anything right?”

“That’s nowhere near true,” James told him. “You do plenty of things right when I give you an assignment. You just need a little help to catch up, and you will get it, but you have to be truthful. Being too proud to ask only hurts you. There is no shame in needing help.  I needed it, too, once. Whatever you need help with, I’m willing to work through it with you, and so is your mother, I imagine.”

Jâsim sighed and nodded. “Okay—deal.”