HWJN (English 2nd Edition) (10 page)

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Authors: Ibraheem Abbas,Yasser Bahjatt

BOOK: HWJN (English 2nd Edition)
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She turned to me and smiled, “Hawjan, you came. What do you think of my look?”

She had gone mad! No, I had gone mad! Why was she doing this to herself? She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen! Why was she disfiguring herself like that?

“Jumara, what is this? Leave before anyone sees
you!”

She ignored me. She was looking at a picture of Sawsan with her friends, and trying to imitate their makeup.
“Just a moment. I’m almost done.”

I heard steps coming toward the room. “Jumara, someone is coming. Let’s leave fast!”

She didn’t respond. She just kept gazing at her face in the mirror and comparing it to the girls’ faces in the picture.

“Do you not like the way I look, Hawjan?”

I couldn’t control myself. I materialized so I could grab her, and in the same moment Dr. Abdulraheem opened the door. He froze. I took Jumara and pulled her into our dimension, but it was too late. I had seen the terror in the eyes of the poor doctor after he saw his daughter disappear, and her clothes and picture fall to the ground.

I didn’t say a word to Jumara. All I heard was her tears. Jumara was an Efreet?
But how? Why had she not told me? My heart was torn; for the first time I pitied someone more than I pitied Sawsan. I tried holding Jumara in my arms, but she was angry and refused. I looked into her eyes and wiped her tears. She couldn’t hold back anymore, and a river exploded from her eyes as she threw her head onto my chest. I slowly moved my hands over her head and cheeks.

“Forgive me, Jumara. Forgive me.”

 

(15)

Eyad…and the Lamborghini

 

T
here is, in my opinion, a strong relationship between feminism and childhood. A female, no matter how mature she becomes, does not move far from that child inside her—the one who cannot control her tears. If she ever rebels against her inner child, she loses part of her feminism!

In that sense Jumara was a perfect female. Her crying calmed down but did not stop; her remaining tears were not enough to release her pain, so she decided to get it out in words. She spoke without taking her head off my chest.
Without me even responding to her with a single word. She was not in need of my mind, logic or words. She only needed my heart to listen to her and absorb her tears.

“I have always been alone!” she cried.
“Denied the warmth of my mother. My father only compensated me with his cruelty. I hated all of my family. I would run away to play alone. The only person who showed me compassion was Uncle Meehal.”

She took a breath as if think of what to say next. “I never knew there were worlds other than our own until Humans increased in number in Qummah. I would see them stop their boats to relax after fishing. I would wake up just before sunset to watch
them from afar. I tried to draw their attention but couldn’t. And one day I entered a ship to see what it looked like, and as I was in the storage room the door closed. I was terrified. I tried to open it but couldn’t. I tried knocking and couldn’t do that either, and in my fright I felt cold and suffocated. I was sure I would die.”

Jumara paused again to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “I knocked on the door, and this time I felt it, and my hand hurt. And I heard the sound of the knock. It was the first time I had materialized in another world. The door opened and I saw Hussain, a small, strange Human. He could feel me and hear me without me even materializing. After that I would always play with him. I learned Human behavior and language from him
.“

She shifted in her seat and lifted her head a bit, but then dropped it back onto my chest. She was tired and weak, but went on with her story. “In a short time, I was able to materialize easily without suffocating, and could do it whenever I meet Hussain. I would throw rocks at the ship when I arrived at the port so he knew I was there. But after some time he disappeared. I was concerned for him, and went looking for him in every ship that came, but without luck. His father was gone too. After a while I saw his father standing on a ship, and people were crowded around him. I went closer and heard someone telling him, “You have our condolences,”
and he was crying. I learned that Hussain had died from a fever. I cried so much.”

And she did the same now, as if the memory had been too much for her. “While I was still on the ship, it sailed away. I only noticed when we were too far from Qummah for me to return. I formed as a Human and hid, and when we got to a village named
Qussar, I got off the boat. I found myself amongst Humans. They were all confused and kept asking me about my family. All I could do was cry. Finally Uncle Meehal came to them formed as an old man and told them he was my grandfather. He took me back home. On the way he insisted that I swear never to tell anyone I could materialize, because if they knew they would not let me be. You are the first to know that I have all the Fayhee powers Uncle Meehal had. Even Xanam doesn’t know. You and I are the only two who have the Fayhee powers.”

Now I understood why father had been so keen for me to marry Jumara—to keep the Fayhee bloodline pure.
Jumara’s head got heavier after her last words, and she gave in to sleep, as did I.

Just a few short hours passed before I heard a sudden, annoying music that I traced to
Eyad’s phone. I materialized to answer before it could awaken Jumara.

“Eyad?”

“You’re supposed to check the caller name before answering! If you answer someone else’s call by mistake, you could reveal your existence. Then we would all be in big trouble! Come—let’s continue our practice!”

Jumara awakened and stopped me as I was about to leave. “Where are you going? You didn’t get enough sleep.”

“I am going to see Eyad.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You must stay here, just in case the sorcerer comes.”

“And what am I supposed to do if he does?”

I gave her Eyad’s phone. “This is a cell phone. You can use it easily. This is Eyad’s number. Just press the button to call me if something happens.”

I went to
Eyad’s and entered through the gates, and found him on the floor in front of his huge TV. Around him were stacks of movies.

When I entered he said, as if seeing me, “Sit down, Hawjan.”

“How did you know I’ve arrived?”

“I’m an expert in paranormals now! Okay, that’s a joke. I said, ‘Sit down, Hawjan’ several times so far with no success until you came.”

“Your eyes are as red as embers. Did you not sleep?”

“Of course I didn’t. How could I sleep after what happened? Do you watch movies, Hawjan?”

“My world has no movie theaters.”

“That’s funny. We don’t have them in Saudi either. Come look. See? All of these movies are about Jinn, spirits, and possession.”

I watched some scenes Eyad showed me. These were Western movies about possessions, with priests performing exorcisms.

Eyad said, “The same thing happens here. There’s a huge exorcism business here. See what happens to possessed people? The same thing will happen to me, right?”

“Well, yes, but those people are not possessed.”

“Do you want to drive me crazy? Can’t you see what’s happening to them? They’re shaking and making strange movements, and saying strange things in terrifying voices.”

“Most of it’s imitation, not possession.”

“So now I’m talking to myself and imitating a person talking to a Jinni?”

“No, not at all. But you must understand that the spirit—or let’s call it the subconscious—has a lot of secrets, and even more capabilities. Any amateur hypnotist can make you convinced you’re a frog and get you to act like one.”

“Are you telling me
there’s no such things as magic and possession?”

“Of course there are, but not like that. You’ll find people living all their lives thinking their problems are because of magic and Jinn, so they ask for the aid of Humans and Jinn alike to cure them from
their imaginary problems. And there are those who make money off these people’s ignorance.”

“Listen, I’m a pinch away from cracking! Tell me something scientific that I can understand.”

“Your soul—I mean your subconscious—can control everything in your body. But you need to control your mind first! How would you explain the fact that exorcisms follow the same rituals everywhere in the world and in every religion? If it’s a religious matter, why have we not heard that one of the prophets had done it? Why do we see such rituals only in regions where the people are obsessed with Jinn and magic? This all starts with a person convincing himself he’s possessed or that someone cast a spell on him, or a devil might whisper it to him or those around him. Such messages collate and get stronger until they become a conviction in his subconscious, and when the exorcism ritual starts, he’s hypnotized. His subconscious believes he actually is possessed, and his reaction to the priest is based on this conviction. Why are you asking all of these questions? Are you scared?”

“Me? Scared? Come with me and I’ll show you real fear!”

Eyad stood up and picked up a bag, and I followed him. He opened his garage gate, behind which was a sports car the likes of which I had never seen on the streets. It was fiery yellow and very low to the ground. On its front was a picture of a bull, and the plates read “EYAD 1111.”

“This is what will scare the both of us,” he said.

“This car?”

“What do you mean this car? This is not a car. This is a Lamborghini…
Lamboooorghiiiniiiii!”

“What makes it different from other cars?”

“This, Allah bless you, is exactly like a Sonata but can go three hundred sixty kilometers per hour. And its price is over a million! Hop in.”

It truly was a strange car.
Especially the doors, which opened upward. I sat down in the passenger’s seat; Eyad pressed the ignition button, and the engine roared.

“Listen, Hawjan, driving is pretty easy. This is a steering wheel. You turn it to steer the car. This is the gas pedal. Push it to speed up. This is the brake pedal to stop!”

“Are you teaching me? Why?”

“Because this is the only way we can put our
subconsciouses, as you say, under pressure, and challenge them so we will be forced to make the possession work.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will in a moment!”

As he said that, he emptied his bag on my seat. A bunch of drug bottles fell out along with some power drink cans. I picked up the
tramadol and a second drug. “What is this?”

“You’re a doctor and you don’t know
Tegretol? It reduces the electric current in the body and brain. I also brought some Red Bull in case I need to wake up. But the most important drug amongst them all is the heavy metal!”

He pressed a button, sending out some very loud, disturbing music, and swallowed two pills of each drug. Then he drove the car out of the gate.

“Listen, Hawjan. You’ll have five minutes to watch me drive and learn how to do it yourself. After that I’ll be too sleepy, and you’ll have to take over driving the car as well as my body. If anything happens to me, that’s okay. But if anything happens to my car, I swear to God I will burn you alive. Understood?”

He put the pedal to the
metal, making the car race off before I had a chance to object. I noticed his grip on the steering wheel easing and his eyes getting heavy. I sat in his place and concentrated on his body’s energy and felt his hands. I saw the road in front of me and the cars racing toward Me. Eyad’s hands started to squeeze, and he started to shake. I tried controlling his foot, but it had frozen on the gas pedal, and we were flying toward the edge of a bridge. I tried with all my strength to remove his foot, and finally it responded. I stepped on the brakes, stopping the car suddenly, and heard the cars behind us braking as well.

Eyad’s
head slammed into the steering wheel, and I felt enormous pain in my forehead as well as a line of warm blood. I now had full control over him and his car, and I raced away from the other drivers, whose angry horns and vulgar insults followed me. In just a few moments, I was driving that thing with ease. I went to the highway and slammed the gas pedal down, watching the speedometer reach its edge as I maneuvered between other slow-moving cars. We passed them in a blur, yet it was not really fast as far as I was concerned. Even at such a speed we would need more than an hour to reach Yatmah. In my world I could go and come back in less than half an hour.

I saw a police car on the horizon turning on all of its lights and sirens as we approached, and we passed it by. I was afraid to cause any problems for Eyad, so I pulled over and slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a violent stop once again. This time I made sure not to slam
Eyad’s head against the wheel.

The police car stopped right behind me, barely avoiding slamming into us. I left
Eyad’s body quickly as I watched the policeman, who was talking on his radio, come toward us. Eyad’s body fell on the steering wheel the moment I left it, and I materialized to shake him before the cop got to him. He woke up, put a hand to his head injury, and looked around.

“I’m still alive? Did something happen to the
car? Are you here, Hawjan?”

He looked at the mirror and saw the policeman coming toward the car and looking clearly angry. Eyad turned off the loud music. “What have you done, Hawjan?”

The cop looked through the window and saw all the drugs scattered around the car along with the power drinks. Then he looked at Eyad’s face, with his two red, sleepy eyes and the line of blood coming from his forehead down his cheek. Eyad tried to calm the cop down—obviously he had experience with this.

“Hi, Officer.
How are you, Officer…uhhh…” He squinted at the man’s name tag. “Fahad?”

“What’s wrong with you?” the cop asked. “Are you possessed?”

“Aaaah. Jinn and Efreets? No of course not! My aunt is in the ICU in Maddina, and they called me because they need to operate on her and I must donate blood! Give me as many tickets as you want, just let me get there on time.”

His tone of voice was good, but it did not fully convince the cop. He just wrote down the car plates and let Eyad go.

“See?” he asked me as he guzzled down a power drink. “My plan worked! I was sure it would work!”

“You were going to kill us.”

“I was going to kill myself! And who the hell got us to Maddina in an hour, Mr. Hawjan Schumacher?”

Eyad’s
phone rang through the car’s sound system. He pressed the “answer” button on the steering wheel, and the name Dr. E Z appeared on the dashboard screen. I heard Jumara speaking in our language, which Eyad could not understand:

“Hawjan,” she said. “Come back. Come fast!”

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