Pervade and Faint

Chapter 42

After two insipid and elongated days, I sat in the living room, waiting for something to happen. Dad took control of the whole matter. He went to Sophia perpetually, paid the expenses and everything else. Along with dad was auntie Shama. He took her with him. And the only reason she went with him was because uncle Qurashi hadn't been in sight for a day or so. He wasn't even at dinner. I didn't even bother to ask.
As I sat in the living room, idle, I received a phone call from dad. It was his usual time of arrival, which carved his phone call into a path of anxiety.
"Hello", I said,
"Amir, I need you to come to my office. Get a cab", he instructed hastily. He seemed to be in a hurry.
After he hung the call, I was already outside, waiting for the taxi, which I had called, to arrive. There was a chilly breeze, but no rain. The clouds were also clear and the stars were vividly conspicuous, manifesting not a symptom of rain.

The taxi arrived and it took me to dads office, just as I instructed. I paid the taxi driver. He didn't refuse taking my money. As a matter of fact, he made an offensive face because I didn't tip him. I remembered the taxi driver who took me to Harvard, about two years ago. But there's a famous saying,
'All five fingers aren't the same.'

Dad was standing in the dark, waiting for me. Something glistened in his hand, which put me into a sudden turmoil. When he took a step further, I noticed that it was a key, a car key.
"Take it home", he said, gesturing towards a car which was parked in the corner. I recognized the car. That's because I was solely au fait with two cars in Pakistan, our car and uncle Qurashi's car. The car which I was supposed to drive home wasn't dad's car, which inevitably meant that it was uncle Qurashi's car.
"Don't leave the house, we might be late", he said, dialing a number in his phone. I couldn't comprehend a jot of the circumstance.
"How's Sophia?" I asked, desperately. I wanted to know about her whereabouts. My eyes had been parched for her, even drier than the Sahara deserts. Since dad used to leave early in the morning, I didn't get a chance to drive up to her and see her. I knew that she was in safe hands, dad (my dad, not hers), and her own mom.

Dad didn't answer my question. He was busy talking to someone on the phone. I waited for him to end the call. Dad stared in my eyes as he talked on the phone, as if he was tangled in a conversation with me.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I knew by the sympathetic tone of his voice that he was appertaining to me.
"I'm okay. How's Sophia", I reiterated. Dad took a deep breath. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked at me.
"She will be okay...I promise", he promised, and I hoped that he promised.
"We might be late. Grab something on the way", he said and I nodded.
"Here, take this", he said, offering me a handful of money. I took them, even though I really wasn't in need of any money.

I started his car and took off. As is rolled down the streets, I held back the desperate urge of meeting Sophia. But dad warned me not to leave the house, so I was restricted. The orange streetlights made their way inside the car, emanating a romantic atmosphere. There was utter silence in the car, and I wondered whether I would event have enthusiasm in my life ever again. Solitude became a tough challenge for me. It proved an innovative encumbrance. When dad and I went to Sophia, which was a few nights ago, she was fast asleep. The doctors had injected her with meperidine. The doctors rushed us out of the room, keeping our meeting incomplete. Sophia and I could have talked all day and at the end of the day, it wouldn't be hard to conclude that our conversations are still incomplete. And the day was too small. The time of love and the conversations of love have and certain brevity to them, which only the lovers tend to comprehend. There are just so much words to say and so much to listen. There were a billion things which I could have said to her. And at the same time, there were a billion things which I could have listened from her, from her silky voice. Nothing dissipated the charm in her voice.
I couldn't meet her that night. And neither did I get a chance to see her afterwards.

I parked uncle Qurashi's car in front of his house. As I disembarked, I noticed something slightly amiss. There wasn't a single light on at auntie Shama's house. She wasn't home. That's when I realized why dad was telling me to grab something to eat, because both of them would be late, but what about uncle Qurashi? And why the hell did I drive his car instead of him? Questions floated in my head as if my head was the Dead Sea. With a hundred questions hovering above my head, I entered my house.

A strong silence lingered as I stepped in. I turned on the lights, giving the house some strands of life. For some reason, I didn't want to go inside my room and sleep. I decided to make a snack for myself and sit in the living room. I turned on the kitchens lights and examined the cabinets.

I ended up with a cup of coffee and some biscuits. My phone buzzed heavily in my pocket as I stirred my coffee. With both hands occupied, I wasn't left with another option. I quickly put the cup on the table. The stirrer sank in the cup, and the sugar wasn't even dissolved yet. However, I took the phone out of my pocket. Scrutinizing at the name, I was hit by an old wave. It was Cindy. I almost forgot all about her. And now, as I read her name, I began to miss her all of a sudden. I quickly picked up the phone.
"Hello", I said, nervously.
"Yes, hello...can I please talk to Amir...it's...Cindy", she stuttered. She thought that she was talking to my dad, even though she had called me.
"Cindy it's me, Amir", I said. I heard her call my name in the back. And to be honest, I really felt bad for hurting her.
"H-how are you?" she asked.
"Fine, you don't seem alright", I answered, noticing something odd in her voice. Her voice trembled, as if she was speaking with her mouth in front of a pedestal fan. I heard her gulp on the other end. I could even hear her breath, which meant that she held the phone close to her, very nigh to her mouth.

Cindy and I talked for a while. I told her everything, everything about Sophia. Cindy listened intently.

"How's your fist now?" she asked. Since I told her nearly everything, she was aware of each detail. I looked down at my fist. Her question startled me. I couldn't fathom that she was so concerned, even from such a distance.
Cindy ended the conversation by telling me to take care of myself. I told her to take care of herself too, but she grunted. She told me that she really missed and she couldn't wait for us to meet again. After we exchanged our goodbyes and take cares, Cindy added something else.
"I love you", she said.
"And always will."