Good Kid-Bad Kid[COMPLETED]

Chapter 16 (Laila)

I waited impatiently until it was time to go to the hospital. I had no idea where Baba was in the whole house, which was enormous and I hadn't even explored all of it yet.

I also didn't know which room Badr stayed in, and sincerely did not want to run into him again and die of a heart failure.

It kind of hurt to see his utter lack of knowledge about Islam, and I knew although he'd been pulling my leg he really didn't know what Suhoor/Sehri was. Maybe it was a good thing, that way he wouldn't be questioning his entire existence as a Cedochi and could continue with whatever he did.

Which I was very curious about.

What did being a gang member entail exactly? Drugs, alcohol, guns? There was more to it, and I half wanted to know and half didn't. If Cedochi was as huge and successful as Baba had mentioned, there were obviously very smart people part of it.
I sighed. I didn't really know what to do with all this.

Baba finally knocked my door at nine and I hurried to answer it.
He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white t-shirt and matching tie. He looked very, very professional right from his neatly trimmed beard down to his polished dress shoes.
"Assalamualaikum beta" he said with a tired smile, "I hoped you slept well?" His Urdu took me off guard for a moment, but then it hit me if my mom could speak Arabic fluently then Baba could do the same with Urdu.
"Walaikum Salam" I replied, also smiling, "I did sleep very well, JazakAllah Khair"
He nodded, then looked around the place, which was as clean as it was yesterday. I'd only pretty much touched my bedroom.
Which reminded me
"Erm, Ba- I mean, sir, this place is..."
"You don't like it?" He asked gently.
"No, no! I love it I really do it's just that... It's too much!" I blurted, "for me I mean. My entire house back in Arizona was as big as this and I'm not sure if I've done anything to deserve it"
His expression softened and he took my hand in his, the warmth of his fingers filling me.
"Laila habibti, listen to me. For the time I have not been there for you I cannot compensate no matter what I do. These things are not enough, nothing is. So please, I urge you, feel that this is your home. It has been waiting for you for so, so long"
My eyes were actually stinging, dangerously close to tears.
"Th-thanks"
"No worries habibti, and if I may add one more thing," he winked, "I'd rather you called me Baba instead of Sir. That is but a term for my employees"
Redness rose to my cheeks. He'd noticed, my uncertainty with whether to call him baba or not. It felt unnatural calling him sir but Baba was something I was not familiar with.
I followed him out the door, falling awkwardly into step.

As we exited the house I took in it's exterior. It looked magnificent, all golden solid, glass, and blue and grey back color. Spreading around it was a large well kept lawn outlined with rows of brightly colored flowers and young palm trees. You could see the exotic taste come through, the need for something more than the bluntness if western styling.
A white Mercedes was waiting for us, a driver ready. I slid inside, sinking into the soft leather.

The private hospital was not a huge building, and was situated near a large pristine lake, seemingly untouched by citizens.
Baba led me into the place, was greeted by the reception ladies and soon we were standing outside room 5A on floor two.
"I think I'll give you two a few minutes alone" Baba told me gruffly, and disappeared into the doctor's office. I took a deep breath, feeling dangerously close to tears for the second time, and pushed open the door.

There she was. My mother.

She lay serenely, dressed in the light blue hospital dress, her grey hijab arranged very loosely so you could see her dark, greying hair a bit.
The good news was she was awake, and noticed me almost immediately.
"Laila" she smiled, "Assalamualaikum"
The bad news was all the tubes and stuff coming off her. There was the oxygen thing that went up her nostrils, which just made the situation seem more serious. The drips on her hands, those hands that were so sure all the time.
"Oh Mama" I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks, "look at you"
She chuckled, "Naw Laila I feel very good alhamdulillah! I can hardly feel anything"
"You got shot!" I burst into sobs, "not once but twice!"
"And I am alive! Say alhamdulillah beta and move on!"
I nodded, dabbing my face with a paper towel. She was right. She was alive and well that was more than I could ask for.
"Come here" she patted a spare edge of her bed, "we do not have time to waste"
I obeyed silently, gripping her fingers tightly.
"I think you have met your Baba now no?" and I nodded, "and I think he gave you an explanation. He is truthful, Laila, and though I have not forgiven him I do believe you are safest with him while I am here. Are you alright with that?"
"Of course Mama, he is very kind to me"
Mama smiled, "I know Laila, he loves you more then I'd anticipated. There's one more thing though"
"And what's that?"
"Go back to school tomorrow"
I groaned. Of course. Of course Mama would say that...
The door opened then and Baba stepped inside, followed by the doctor. I looked to and fro between my parents, feeling terribly awkward. Mama was expressionless, but Baba's face was full of concern. Pain flickered across his eyes when Mama looked away, but he spoke nonetheless.
"Assalamualaikum Ruba"
"Walaikum salaam Faris"Mama replied curtly.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better alhamdulillah"
He nodded, his eyes bright. I almost burst into tears, his pain called out to me. I wished Mama could be a little nicer, could at least look at him. I swallowed, "I'll be right back" I told Mama and stepped out of the room, leaning against the cold pristine walls, letting the tears flow.