Shadow of Resistance

Chapter Four

We return home after an unforgettable day. I open the door to find a blue Trek bicycle in front of it and my parents standing behind it smiling from ear to ear.

I stand frozen in my place dropping my jaw. I have always wanted a bicycle and this one is just so perfect. I run to my parents and hug them together at the same time. "Thank you, this is the best present I ever had by far thank you" I say with enthusiasm.

I really love them and love how they always do all that they can to make me and Omar happy. I keep checking the bicycle while they are watching me until my phone vibrates for a notification. I check my phone and see a message from Sarah saying "I just knew it is your birthday, so Happy birthday and I hope you enjoyed your day."

By reading her message, I couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. I leave the bicycle and start replying to her "Thank youuu ♥️. And I really did"

"Who are you talking to huh?" My mother says with her teasing voice after she notices my silly unreasonable smile.

"No one mum"I reply, with my face blushing. I take my bicycle and run to my room before I tell her everything.

"Tell me what did you do?" Sarah sent.

I rest my body on the bed and start texting her. I tell her all about my day and we drift to other stuff. As we chat, I find out that she also loves seafood pizza from Maldive Gaza, and she even has a bicycle too.

"Maybe we can plan a day to go cycling together?" I suggest, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I hit send.

"Yeah, maybe one day," she replies.

I feel like she's turning me down gently, and I start to think she's not as excited as I am. So, I text her, "It's okay, you can say no if you're afraid of losing the race."

"Next Sunday after school?" she replies.

A smile spreads across my face, and my eyes light up when I read her message. I can't believe it, we're actually going cycling on Sunday! I quickly text back, "Deal." We keep chatting until we both drift off to sleep.

It is Saturday, so I wake up early to get ready for work. It is not actual work, I just go to help my father in his shop. My father owns a shop, and he goes there to supervise the workers. He goes there everyday except for Friday that he spends with us. I've always wanted to work with him, but he used to refuse, worried that I might burn myself or that something hot could spill on me. However, that all changed at the start of this year.

My father inherited this shop from my passed grandfather. It is a Nammura shop, Nammura is a very traditional dessert that all Gazans love. I really love it too, though I've grown accustomed to it since our house is never without it; my father always brings some home after work.

I get ready and we go together to his shop. Once we enter, the beautiful smell of the shop enters my nose, giving me a magical dose of happiness and making me feel like a kid in a candy store. It also makes me feel so hungry. I wash my hands, wear the gloves and the hair restraint, and I am ready for crafting the best dessert ever.

The first step is preparing the batter, where we mix the semolina with ghee and sugar. I get the tray and start mixing them in it. This step is the hardest and the longest one as it takes a lot of time to mix them to make the perfect batter for a whole big tray.

As I'm mixing, my father passes by and places his hand on my shoulder. "That's some perfect batter," he says with a grin. "I might just eat it uncooked, great work, Kareem." I force a smile to show my appreciation, though his cringey comment makes me a bit uncomfortable.

After I mix, I leave it to rest for some time and I get another tray and brush it with ghee and white tahini. Then I start spreading the batter I prepared on the greased tray with my hands. After that, I leave it again for a bit of time to rest before placing almonds in an artistic pattern. We can put any kind of nuts we want but I prefer almonds.

Finally, it's time to put the batter in the oven and wait until it bakes to a perfect golden brown. Once it's done, I take it out and immediately drizzle it with sugary syrup while it's still hot, to be sure it absorbs it completely. This syrup is what gives the shop its irresistible, sweet smell.

My father passes again and tastes a part of it. "Woooow that is my son. I was sure Nammura is in our family's blood" And there goes another cringey comment, but I can't say his words didn't make me pleased. I am really glad he liked it and that he is proud of me.

I take part of the tray I made and return home. I have to be home at 7 pm for my Quran lesson I have and also to leave my father to continue his work.