Beaneath the Veil 3

The Girl Alone

We had time because of the snow, or maybe grace. But she asked for Henry. I began with her where we had left off.
She told her story with an urgent ease. As if she wanted the story told but no longer feared no one would ever know. She spoke to me this time and not at me while watching the scenes she was describing to me.
She told me she went back to the widow and related all that happened. The widow gave her no hug or sympathetic look for loosing her first friend.
I laid under the stars that night and decided if my mother were to make it to Jenna it would be by her own merits while living. I was done praying, done being unseen. the next day I went to the market and I caused such a ruckus that I was fired from my new job. I didn't care though. I didn't want to go back to the widows but I didn't know anyone else to trust. I sat on a rock thinking of what to do next. I had stolen food, water and coins. I didn't want the money but decided to bury it for my adult self when I was old enough to leave. I traveled to the gates and walked into the back of a mans legs. I looked up and saw my father briefly. I don't believe then I was fully recognized. He looked over me at a merchant screaming for me to be stopped. It was the shop keeper that fired me. My father grabbed my arm and asked me jokingly what I had stolen. the shop keeper caught up with us and thanked him for detaining me.
They spoke a few words and the shop keeper could only tell my father that I worked for him and owed him more time. My father offered to buy me from him and take me to my father. The shop keeper knew nothing of my family. They both turned to me then and demanded to know who my father was. I looked up and with a trembling hand pointed at the shop keeper. My father stepped back astonished and told the old man to keep after his son. A son was a gift from Allah. He then adjusted his turban and huffed away. The shop keeper dragged me to his store/home and berated me for Lying he could not have children.
I worked and grew under the widows harshness and the shop keepers direction. I built muscle and slept at the shop most nights. I was on my way to being a teenager fast. I spied on my father and attended his wedding too. That's a story I must not skip.
I had been following my father around town. I was always too far away to be spotted, but it wouldn't have mattered at this point. I was unrecognizable. I was no longer Amal but Amir. I was always in full character.
My father for the last month was in the habit of visiting this widows house. She had a little girl, she was around my age. I would speak with her over her small, back wall while my father and her mother were inside.
I didn't know still why my mother wouldn't let me near my father when she was alive. And then one night I paid a very late visit to the markets. I walked around, feeling the night air on my skin looking always toward the stars when my feet took me to my friends house. Her name was zula and she was very smart. Her father was killed while working the caravans. Her mother knew no trade and was looking to remarry as soon as her waiting period of mourning was up. She didn't have pregnancy to worry about because her husband was already gone two months when he was killed. She only knew she had no way to provide for herself and her daughter Zula.
I was nervous to peek over the short wall today. May be because it was such a late hour. But I had the worst feeling crouching there in the dark. I jumped over and went to the window of Zula's room.
She was on her Matt crying quietly. Her mother was nealing in front of her trying to make her help pack. Zula refused and then her mother pulled her close and whispered in her ear. Just then I heard my father's voice yelling wanting to know if the girl were ready yet. I heard a door slam and then their was my father. Standing just inside the widows gate waiting for Zula so late in the night.
That sick feeling was fast coming back. I didn't know what was going on but I knew I had to move my father from this place right now. I picked up a big rock and threw it at him. First throw hit his head and knocked him down. Zula's mother came out holding the hand of her terrified daughter and laughed toward the stars when she saw my father unconscious in the dirt. I couldn't really make out all of what she said to Zula. But I heard her say go and then Zula took flight out her gate and toward the market. Her mother then kicked my father, spat and went in her home.