{"id":95057,"date":"2018-05-16T04:50:33","date_gmt":"2018-05-16T08:50:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=95057"},"modified":"2019-04-04T09:35:47","modified_gmt":"2019-04-04T13:35:47","slug":"nayla","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/nayla\/","title":{"rendered":"Nayla"},"content":{"rendered":"

There<\/span> was <\/span>sun<\/span> and<\/span> then<\/span> there<\/span> was<\/span> more<\/span> sun<\/span> and<\/span> more<\/span> sun. <\/span>You<\/span> can\u2019t<\/span> imagine<\/span> loss<\/span> when<\/span> it\u2019s<\/span> sunny.<\/span> Everything<\/span> reflects,\u00a0<\/span>the<\/span> sides<\/span> of<\/span> buildings,<\/span> dirty,<\/span> dusty<\/span> windows<\/span> offer<\/span> half<\/span> a<\/span> version of<\/span> a<\/span> sad<\/span> tired<\/span> face.<\/span> You<\/span> squint<\/span> and<\/span> rooms<\/span> appear<\/span> tilted,<\/span> the<\/span> sky unbearable, and then when\u2014like a turtle, worm,<\/span> or<\/span> whatever <\/span>it <\/span>is that burrows\u2014you wrap thick heavy blankets<\/span> around<\/span> the curtain<\/span> bar,<\/span> dust<\/span> flies<\/span> everywhere.<\/span> So<\/span> you<\/span> sneeze<\/span> and<\/span> secure<\/span> the blankets<\/span> with<\/span> giant<\/span> paper<\/span> clips,<\/span> metallic<\/span> tape,<\/span> anything<\/span> that feels<\/span> like<\/span> it<\/span> will<\/span> protect<\/span> you<\/span> from<\/span> the<\/span> brightness<\/span> for<\/span> a<\/span> long<\/span> time. This<\/span> is<\/span> how<\/span> I<\/span> felt<\/span> for<\/span> the<\/span> first<\/span> few<\/span> days<\/span> of<\/span> my<\/span> twenty-first year.<\/span> I<\/span> was<\/span> still<\/span> in<\/span> this<\/span> camp<\/span> in<\/span> the<\/span> desert,<\/span> worming<\/span> my<\/span> way into acceptance while years\u2014let\u2019s count them . .<\/span> .<\/span> something like<\/span> 365<\/span> \u00d7<\/span> 6<\/span> +<\/span> however<\/span> many<\/span> days\u2014had<\/span> gone<\/span> by.<\/span> By<\/span> the<\/span> end<\/span> of the week, Mama pulled down the blankets and dragged<\/span> me<\/span> to my<\/span> cousin<\/span> Marwan\u2019s<\/span> birthday<\/span> party.<\/span> He<\/span> relished<\/span> his<\/span> legal<\/span> ability to<\/span> drink,<\/span> although<\/span> as<\/span> I<\/span> told<\/span> him<\/span> many<\/span> times,<\/span> legality<\/span> did<\/span> not\u00a0<\/span>matter here.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mama spent most of the night in the living room with my aunts while Marwan and his friends entertained them by trying to dance the dabke with a group of terribly synchronized<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/span>tabla drummers. Already tipsy by the time we got there,<\/span> Marwan introduced us to his new girlfriend, Nayla. I noticed that everyone<\/span> else<\/span> seemed<\/span> to<\/span> approach<\/span> her<\/span> cautiously<\/span> or<\/span> envelop<\/span> her in <\/span>an airy <\/span>swoop that simulated the grandeur of a hug without bodily contact. She <\/span>didn\u2019t <\/span>smell bad or look disheveled<\/span> or unkempt.<\/span> There<\/span> were<\/span> no<\/span> obvious<\/span> signs<\/span> of<\/span> repulsion.<\/span> I<\/span> asked<\/span> my mom<\/span> what<\/span> was<\/span> going<\/span> on<\/span> and<\/span> she<\/span> said:<\/span> She\u2019s<\/i><\/span> <\/i>a<\/i><\/span> <\/i>young<\/i><\/span> <\/i>widow<\/i>,<\/span> in the<\/span> hushed<\/span> tone<\/span> of<\/span> a<\/span> terrible<\/span> fate<\/span> or<\/span> a<\/span> shameful<\/span> secret.<\/span> I<\/span> immediately<\/span> thought<\/span> of<\/span> a<\/span> spider<\/span> and<\/span> recoiled.<\/span> So<\/span> when<\/span> Nayla<\/span> sat<\/span> next<\/span> to me<\/span> on<\/span> the<\/span> sticky<\/span> linoleum<\/span> kitchen<\/span> floor<\/span> and<\/span> offered<\/span> me<\/span> the<\/span> wobbly<\/span> part<\/span> of<\/span> her<\/span> spinach<\/span> quiche,<\/span> I<\/span> hesitated.<\/span> She<\/span> insisted.<\/span> I<\/span> took a small chunk with my hands <\/span>as <\/span>if like sisters we had always shared<\/span> food.<\/span><\/p>\n

The music was loud in the kitchen, a mix of bootleg <\/span>DJ <\/span>Khaled and De <\/span>La <\/span>Soul. Nayla and I stayed on the <\/span>floor, <\/span>legs extended,<\/span> bare<\/span> feet<\/span> against<\/span> the<\/span> cabinet,<\/span> eating.<\/span> I<\/span> picked<\/span> out<\/span> the almonds<\/span> from<\/span> the<\/span> rice<\/span> and<\/span> gave<\/span> them<\/span> to<\/span> her.<\/span> She<\/span> whispered<\/span> that they<\/span> were<\/span> a<\/span> cheap<\/span> substitute<\/span> for<\/span> pine<\/span> nuts.<\/span> We<\/span> agreed<\/span> that<\/span> bread is<\/span> the<\/span> best<\/span> utensil<\/span> and<\/span> that<\/span> olives<\/span> without<\/span> pits<\/span> are<\/span> disgusting,<\/span> as <\/span>if manhandled by a machine. <\/span>By <\/span>the end of the night we<\/span> were friends.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nayla worked part-time <\/span>as an <\/span>engineer. She fixed boilers, heaters,<\/span> and<\/span> pipes.<\/span> She<\/span> made<\/span> sure<\/span> all<\/span> the<\/span> internal<\/span> parts<\/span> worked: the<\/span> heart,<\/span> the<\/span> liver,<\/span> the<\/span> organs<\/span> of<\/span> a<\/span> building.<\/span> She<\/span> spoke<\/span> of<\/span> codes like a <\/span>spy. <\/span>She had a clipboard with stacks of paper that she flipped through and wrote on only in pencil. I never saw her erasing.<\/span> There<\/span> were<\/span> numbers<\/span> and<\/span> barely<\/span> legible<\/span> words<\/span> along<\/span> the margins.<\/span> Her<\/span> soundtrack<\/span> was<\/span> the<\/span> scribbling<\/span> scratch<\/span> of<\/span> the<\/span> pencil. When she was surrounded by the rest of her <\/span>crew, <\/span>mostly men who liked to yell into the air rather than speak directly with <\/span>one <\/span>another, she seemed feminine, like a feline cartoon character<\/span> who<\/span> bats<\/span> her<\/span> eyelashes<\/span> when<\/span> she<\/span> wants<\/span> something.<\/span> She wore<\/span> short<\/span> skirts<\/span> or<\/span> belted<\/span> long<\/span> shirts<\/span> along<\/span> with<\/span> the<\/span> white<\/span> hard hat<\/span> she<\/span> carried<\/span> looped<\/span> around<\/span> her<\/span> gaudy<\/span> large<\/span> gold<\/span> purse.<\/span> She\u00a0<\/span>didn\u2019t<\/span> wear<\/span> heels<\/span> but<\/span> her<\/span> shoes<\/span> seemed<\/span> demure,<\/span> dignified,<\/span> and actually,<\/span> as<\/span> I<\/span> often<\/span> told<\/span> her,<\/span> totally<\/span> old-lady-like.<\/span> The<\/span> leather<\/span> was never scuffed or<\/span> dirty.<\/span><\/p>\n

That summer, I practically lived in her apartment, a tiny place<\/span> right<\/span> above<\/span> her<\/span> late<\/span> husband\u2019s<\/span> family\u2019s<\/span> house.<\/span> I\u2019d<\/span> come over<\/span> and<\/span> we\u2019d<\/span> drink<\/span> prosecco<\/span> (pretending<\/span> we<\/span> were<\/span> in<\/span> Italy)<\/span> and invent recipes together. <\/span>We <\/span>traded food for the bubbly wine with Ahmad, the liquor store manager. <\/span>We <\/span>made him fish<\/span> fat<\/span>toush;<\/span> lamb-stuffed<\/span> eggplant;<\/span> pistachio,<\/span> orange,<\/span> and<\/span> cardamom cookies; and vegetarian kibbeh with extra pine nuts. Ahmad had<\/span> a<\/span> huge<\/span> family<\/span> who<\/span> liked<\/span> to<\/span> be<\/span> fed<\/span> by<\/span> anyone<\/span> other<\/span> than<\/span> the aunt in charge of cooking, who vacillated between<\/span> old-school kushari and a weird version of rice<\/span> pilaf.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I noticed that everyone<\/span> else<\/span> seemed<\/span> to<\/span> approach<\/span> her<\/span> cautiously<\/span> or<\/span> envelop<\/span> her in <\/span>an airy <\/span>swoop that simulated the grandeur of a hug without bodily contact.” <\/p><\/span><\/p>\n

We\u2019d <\/span>go out dancing until late, and <\/span>it <\/span>just seemed easier to sleep <\/span>over. <\/span>We <\/span>shared the crickety pullout bed in the living room,<\/span> and<\/span> I\u2019d<\/span> help<\/span> her<\/span> fold<\/span> its<\/span> giant<\/span> metal<\/span> legs<\/span> in<\/span> the<\/span> morning <\/span>as <\/span>our <\/span>Turkish <\/span>coffee gurgled on the stove. <\/span>We <\/span>ate breakfast together, dipping stale and barely thawed bread into bowls of homemade<\/span> labne<\/span> drowning<\/span> in<\/span> olive<\/span> oil.<\/span> Then<\/span> we<\/span> gulped<\/span> down <\/span>one<\/span> more<\/span> coffee<\/span> before<\/span> we<\/span> each<\/span> went<\/span> our<\/span> own<\/span> way.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nayla never talked to me about her husband. I <\/span>didn\u2019t <\/span>know how<\/span> long<\/span> they<\/span> were<\/span> married,<\/span> if<\/span> it<\/span> was<\/span> arranged,<\/span> if<\/span> they<\/span> had<\/span> been super in love, or how and why he died. This was a time when so<\/span> many<\/span> of<\/span> us<\/span> had<\/span> lost<\/span> someone<\/span> close.<\/span> There<\/span> was<\/span> an<\/span> unspoken rule <\/span>not <\/span>to talk about them, <\/span>as <\/span>if <\/span>it <\/span>would <\/span>put <\/span>you at risk. Like you<\/span> only<\/span> existed<\/span> because<\/span> of<\/span> their<\/span> absence.<\/span> I<\/span> only<\/span> knew<\/span> what<\/span> he looked like because the first time I came over she pointed to a<\/span> single<\/span> photograph<\/span> hanging<\/span> on<\/span> the<\/span> refrigerator<\/span> door<\/span> and<\/span> said, That\u2019s<\/i><\/span> <\/i>him.<\/i><\/span> <\/i>I<\/i><\/span> <\/i>keep<\/i><\/span> <\/i>it<\/i><\/span> <\/i>up<\/i><\/span> <\/i>here<\/i><\/span> <\/i>for<\/i><\/span> <\/i>them<\/i>,<\/span> pointing<\/span> down<\/span> at<\/span> the<\/span> floor that<\/span> separated<\/span> her<\/span> from<\/span> his<\/span> parents<\/span> and<\/span> siblings.<\/span> The<\/span> magnet<\/span> was weak<\/span> and<\/span> each<\/span> time<\/span> she<\/span> opened<\/span> and<\/span> closed<\/span> the<\/span> door,<\/span> the<\/span> photo <\/span>swayed<\/span> a<\/span> little.<\/span> His<\/span> cheeks<\/span> were<\/span> reddened<\/span> by<\/span> the<\/span> sun<\/span> or<\/span> wind.<\/span> He had<\/span> on<\/span> sunglasses<\/span> so<\/span> I<\/span> couldn\u2019t<\/span> tell<\/span> much<\/span> about<\/span> his<\/span> eyes,<\/span> his<\/span> aura.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/span>He wore a collared striped <\/span>blue <\/span>and white T-shirt. He seemed <\/span>preppy, <\/span>healthy, <\/span>what youth was supposed to look like.<\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span><\/p>\n

Marwan, on the other hand, had a face only a mother could love,<\/span> as<\/span> my<\/span> mama<\/span> often<\/span> said,<\/span> teasing<\/span> her<\/span> own<\/span> sister.<\/span> When<\/span> I<\/span> saw him<\/span> at<\/span> family<\/span> gatherings,<\/span> I<\/span> tried<\/span> to<\/span> get<\/span> him<\/span> to<\/span> reveal<\/span> something about<\/span> how<\/span> he<\/span> felt<\/span> about<\/span> Nayla<\/span> so<\/span> that<\/span> we<\/span> could<\/span> dissect<\/span> his<\/span> words <\/span>as<\/span> we<\/span> chopped<\/span> onions<\/span> and<\/span> pulled<\/span> parsley<\/span> leaves.<\/span> She<\/span> seemed<\/span> to really<\/span> like<\/span> him,<\/span> though<\/span> I<\/span> couldn\u2019t<\/span> understand<\/span> how<\/span> he<\/span> compared to the beautiful man who haunted the<\/span> kitchen.<\/span><\/p>\n

I enjoyed my role <\/span>as <\/span>a spy until <\/span>Marwan <\/span>told me that he liked dating her because he\u2019d never have to commit. Clearly, you<\/span> can\u2019t<\/span> marry<\/span> a<\/span> widow.<\/span> I<\/span> told<\/span> him<\/span> that<\/span> was<\/span> insane<\/span> and<\/span> archaic and<\/span> backward<\/span> and<\/span> stupid.<\/span> In<\/span> an<\/span> instant<\/span> everything<\/span> changed.<\/span> He stood<\/span> up,<\/span> got<\/span> really<\/span> close<\/span> to<\/span> me,<\/span> and<\/span> yelled:<\/span> Why<\/span> don\u2019t<\/span> you<\/span> leave my<\/span> girlfriend<\/span> alone!<\/span> Are<\/span> you<\/span> a<\/span> lesbian<\/span> or<\/span> something?<\/span> And<\/span> I<\/span> said, <\/span>Yeah,<\/span> so<\/span> what?<\/span> Then<\/span> he<\/span> told<\/span> me<\/span> I<\/span> was<\/span> going<\/span> to<\/span> hell<\/span> and<\/span> a<\/span> whore and<\/span> anything<\/span> he<\/span> could<\/span> think<\/span> of<\/span> that<\/span> would<\/span> make<\/span> me<\/span> feel<\/span> shame, and<\/span> when<\/span> I<\/span> didn\u2019t<\/span> blink<\/span> he<\/span> pushed<\/span> me<\/span> hard,<\/span> both<\/span> his<\/span> hands<\/span> flat against<\/span> the<\/span> center<\/span> of<\/span> my<\/span> chest.<\/span> I<\/span> didn\u2019t<\/span> fall<\/span> or<\/span> fight<\/span> back,<\/span> instead that<\/span> night<\/span> I<\/span> told<\/span> his<\/span> sister,<\/span> who<\/span> really<\/span> was<\/span> a<\/span> lesbian:<\/span> Don\u2019t<\/span> ever tell him the truth. <\/span>It\u2019s <\/span>not worth<\/span> it.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next <\/span>day, <\/span>Nayla and I were supposed to make a flourless<\/span> chocolate<\/span> cake<\/span> for<\/span> Ahmad\u2019s<\/span> daughter\u2019s<\/span> birthday.<\/span> We<\/span> were promised<\/span> a<\/span> bottle<\/span> of<\/span> champagne<\/span> in<\/span> return.<\/span> I<\/span> kept<\/span> trying<\/span> to<\/span> find the<\/span> right<\/span> time<\/span> to<\/span> tell<\/span> her<\/span> what<\/span> had<\/span> happened<\/span> with<\/span> Marwan.<\/span> We <\/span>stood in the kitchen grating dark and heavy bars of<\/span> chocolate. Facing<\/span> each<\/span> other<\/span> across<\/span> the<\/span> wood<\/span> counter,<\/span> we<\/span> each<\/span> had<\/span> a<\/span> cheese grater set up like a <\/span>monument <\/span>in the center of the plate. <\/span>We <\/span>leaned<\/span> with<\/span> all<\/span> our<\/span> might<\/span> into<\/span> them<\/span> to<\/span> shred<\/span> the<\/span> cocoa.<\/span><\/p>\n

I<\/span> was<\/span> restless<\/span> and<\/span> set<\/span> everything<\/span> down<\/span> and<\/span> began<\/span> to<\/span> fumble with<\/span> the<\/span> record<\/span> player<\/span> on<\/span> the<\/span> side<\/span> table.<\/span> There<\/span> were<\/span> no<\/span> records<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/span>in<\/span> sight.<\/span> The<\/span> lid<\/span> was<\/span> always<\/span> closed.<\/span> I<\/span> opened<\/span> it<\/span> and<\/span> found<\/span> a<\/span> layer of<\/span> dust.<\/span><\/p>\n

Why <\/span>don\u2019t <\/span>you ever use this thing? I asked, and Nayla just stared at me <\/span>silently. <\/span>I suddenly remembered the small graveyard<\/span> next<\/span> to<\/span> the<\/span> east<\/span> fence<\/span> and<\/span> the<\/span> line<\/span> of<\/span> vinyl<\/span> records<\/span> shoved into<\/span> the<\/span> ground<\/span> next<\/span> to<\/span> a<\/span> headstone<\/span> as<\/span> if<\/span> they<\/span> were<\/span> guards.<\/span> And without<\/span> thinking,<\/span> maybe<\/span> as<\/span> a<\/span> way<\/span> to<\/span> fill<\/span> my<\/span> mouth<\/span> with<\/span> words of<\/span> forgiveness<\/span> or<\/span> to<\/span> be<\/span> a<\/span> distraction<\/span> or<\/span> maybe<\/span> just<\/span> to<\/span> undo<\/span> this unintended opening, I began to <\/span>talk <\/span>about my<\/span> sister.<\/span><\/p>\n

I<\/span> never<\/span> told<\/span> you<\/span> that<\/span> I<\/span> have<\/span> an<\/span> older<\/span> sister,<\/span> I<\/span> said,<\/span> entering<\/span> a strange world where I uttered what I thought. <\/span>My <\/span>life up<\/span> until that<\/span> moment<\/span> had<\/span> been<\/span> suspended,<\/span> like<\/span> when<\/span> it\u2019s<\/span> really<\/span> hot<\/span> out<\/span>side<\/span> and<\/span> muggy<\/span> and<\/span> you<\/span> know<\/span> it\u2019s<\/span> going<\/span> to<\/span> rain,<\/span> that<\/span> all<\/span> of<\/span> this humidity will break and burst water from the clouds, but you wait<\/span> and<\/span> you<\/span> wait<\/span> under<\/span> the<\/span> graying<\/span> sky<\/span> and<\/span> it<\/span> doesn\u2019t<\/span> happen. Until <\/span>it <\/span>does, much <\/span>later, <\/span>at night when you no longer mind because <\/span>you\u2019re <\/span>safe at<\/span> home.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nayla didn\u2019t respond and looked down at the chocolate shreds. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed the fig cookies (that she kept cold so that they crunched when she bit into them) and continued to talk.<\/span><\/p>\n

We<\/span> don\u2019t<\/span> know<\/span> where<\/span> she<\/span> is.<\/span> She<\/span> ran<\/span> away<\/span> before<\/span> they<\/span> brought us<\/span> here.<\/span> My<\/span> mother<\/span> rarely<\/span> mentions<\/span> her<\/span> name,<\/span> only<\/span> on<\/span> her<\/span> saint\u2019s <\/span>day<\/span> or<\/span> birthday.<\/span> We<\/span> have<\/span> a<\/span> ritual<\/span> where<\/span> we<\/span> sing<\/span> happy<\/span> birthday to<\/span> each<\/span> other.<\/span> Mama<\/span> even<\/span> bakes<\/span> a<\/span> cake<\/span> and<\/span> we<\/span> blow<\/span> out<\/span> a<\/span> single candle<\/span> together,<\/span> and<\/span> Mama<\/span> mumbles<\/span> something<\/span> about<\/span> how<\/span> she <\/span>hopes<\/span> that<\/span> she<\/span> is<\/span> out<\/span> there<\/span> somewhere<\/span> enjoying<\/span> herself<\/span> and<\/span> blow<\/span>ing <\/span>out<\/span> candles.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Nayla never talked to me about her husband. I <\/span>didn\u2019t <\/span>know how<\/span> long<\/span> they<\/span> were<\/span> married,<\/span> if<\/span> it<\/span> was<\/span> arranged,<\/span> if<\/span> they<\/span> had<\/span> been super in love, or how and why he died. This was a time when so<\/span> many<\/span> of<\/span> us<\/span> had<\/span> lost<\/span> someone<\/span> close.” <\/p><\/span><\/p>\n

The<\/span> more<\/span> I<\/span> talked,<\/span> the<\/span> more<\/span> I<\/span> moved<\/span> around<\/span> the<\/span> kitchen<\/span> like a<\/span> grazing<\/span> hungry<\/span> animal.<\/span> I<\/span> stuffed<\/span> three<\/span> cookies<\/span> in<\/span> my<\/span> mouth. I went to the stove and stuck my fingers in the melted <\/span>butter, <\/span>dipping them into the oozing pale yellow<\/span> liquid.<\/span><\/p>\n

She is alive, I said, and licked my fingers greedily.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Have<\/span> you<\/span> heard<\/span> from<\/span> anyone<\/span> who<\/span> might<\/span> know<\/span> anything about<\/span> her?<\/span> She<\/span> pulled<\/span> the<\/span> butter<\/span> away<\/span> and<\/span> poured<\/span> it<\/span> into<\/span> a<\/span> bowl.<\/span><\/p>\n

No,<\/span> but<\/span> I<\/span> know<\/span> it,<\/span> I<\/span> said,<\/span> following<\/span> her<\/span> and<\/span> putting<\/span> my<\/span> slimy fingers in the crystal brown<\/span> sugar.<\/span><\/p>\n

She pushed my hand away swiftly and I went in again and she grabbed it and held it. Yes, I understand, she said with a firm grip.<\/span><\/p>\n

We have a bunch of her clothes here with us because we thought we might as well bring them, I continued.<\/span><\/p>\n

Where do you have room to keep them?<\/span><\/p>\n

In the suitcases lodged between the closet and the ceiling. Mama<\/span> takes<\/span> them<\/span> down<\/span> every<\/span> few<\/span> months<\/span> and<\/span> changes<\/span> the<\/span> lavender bags and cedarwood, checks for moths, and then seals them and slides them<\/span> away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Do<\/span> you<\/span> ever<\/span> go<\/span> through<\/span> them?<\/span> she<\/span> asked,<\/span> and<\/span> picked<\/span> up<\/span> the chocolate and grater that I had left behind. She moved<\/span> slowly so<\/span> as<\/span> not<\/span> to<\/span> scrape<\/span> her<\/span> fingers<\/span> against<\/span> the<\/span> metal.<\/span> I<\/span> could<\/span> see<\/span> the small<\/span> muscles<\/span> in<\/span> the<\/span> backs<\/span> of<\/span> her<\/span> arms<\/span> working.<\/span><\/p>\n

When we were growing up, I used to always steal her clothes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now they smell stale and terrible.<\/span><\/p>\n

Well, yeah, it\u2019s obviously the cedarwood, she replied.<\/span><\/p>\n

She<\/span> poured<\/span> the<\/span> blend<\/span> of<\/span> almonds,<\/span> forming<\/span> a<\/span> landmass<\/span> inside the glass beaker, and said: He drowned, in the pool. Can you imagine making <\/span>it <\/span>here and then something stupid like that happens?<\/span><\/p>\n

I<\/span> stared<\/span> at<\/span> her<\/span> and<\/span> she<\/span> kept<\/span> her<\/span> gaze<\/span> down.<\/span> It<\/span> was<\/span> silent.<\/span> There was<\/span> only<\/span> one<\/span> window<\/span> and<\/span> it<\/span> was<\/span> never<\/span> open<\/span> because<\/span> it<\/span> was<\/span> too hot. <\/span>We <\/span>were sealed in.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve always hated these pools. Too much chlorine! I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nayla looked up quickly, and I smiled and walked over to her<\/span> and<\/span> she<\/span> hugged<\/span> me,<\/span> hard<\/span> and<\/span> close,<\/span> for<\/span> what<\/span> felt<\/span> like<\/span> a<\/span> long, long<\/span> time.<\/span><\/p>\n

Let\u2019s go now, she whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Where? I pulled back. Swimming.<\/span><\/p>\n

Are you serious? Yes. Let\u2019s go.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mama thinks that Nayla has a straightforward <\/span>tone <\/span>about everything<\/span> because<\/span> she\u2019s<\/span> an<\/span> engineer.<\/span> I<\/span> think<\/span> it\u2019s<\/span> because<\/span> she\u2019s <\/span>sad.<\/span> Mama<\/span> says<\/span> there\u2019s<\/span> nothing<\/span> straightforward<\/span> about<\/span> sadness, <\/span>it\u2019s<\/span> full<\/span> of<\/span> ebbs<\/span> and<\/span> flows<\/span> and<\/span> that<\/span> I\u2019m<\/span> a<\/span> ridiculous<\/span> romantic<\/span> even about<\/span> sadness.<\/span><\/p>\n

We <\/span>dropped everything: sugar, almond,<\/span> butter,<\/span> chocolate, pans,<\/span> cups,<\/span> measuring<\/span> spoons,<\/span> eggs,<\/span> and<\/span> left<\/span> it<\/span> all<\/span> for<\/span> the<\/span> ants, <\/span>as <\/span>Mama would <\/span>say. <\/span>We <\/span>ran in the midday humidity<\/span> all<\/span> the way<\/span> from<\/span> her<\/span> apartment<\/span> on<\/span> the<\/span> south<\/span> side<\/span> to<\/span> the<\/span> reservoir<\/span> in<\/span> the north. <\/span>We <\/span>charmed the guard with a box of<\/span> Turkish<\/span> delights (which<\/span> we<\/span> both<\/span> hated),<\/span> and<\/span> he<\/span> opened<\/span> the<\/span> mesh<\/span> metal<\/span> gate, giving<\/span> us<\/span> only<\/span> twenty<\/span> minutes<\/span> before<\/span> his<\/span> supervisor<\/span> showed<\/span> up.<\/span> We <\/span>held hands, closed our eyes, and jumped<\/span> in\u2014right<\/span> into the<\/span> cold,<\/span> unsalted<\/span> water<\/span> without<\/span> even<\/span> taking<\/span> off<\/span> our<\/span> sweaty clothes. <\/span>We <\/span>emerged smiling and triumphant. Nayla<\/span> said<\/span> she hoped that our grimy bodies <\/span>wouldn\u2019t <\/span>taint the water<\/span> that<\/span> we were<\/span> going<\/span> to<\/span> have<\/span> to<\/span> drink.<\/span> I<\/span> floated<\/span> on<\/span> my<\/span> back<\/span> and<\/span> watched the<\/span> still<\/span> bright<\/span> sky,<\/span> wondering<\/span> if<\/span> Nayla<\/span> could<\/span> see<\/span> into<\/span> bodies<\/span> the\u00a0<\/span>way she could see into buildings.<\/span><\/p>\n

__________________________________<\/span><\/p>\n

This story originally appeared in <\/em>Prairie Schooner.\u00a0See the rest of the 2018 O. Henry Prize stories\u00a0here<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There was sun and then there was more sun and more sun. You can\u2019t imagine loss when it\u2019s sunny. Everything reflects,\u00a0the sides of buildings, dirty, dusty windows offer half a version of a sad tired face. You squint and rooms<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2695,"featured_media":240571,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[43074,43075,1],"tags":[38236,38201,14446,7775,34637],"class_list":["post-95057","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fictionandpoetry","category-short-story","category-uncategorized","tag-nayla","tag-o-henry-prize-2018","tag-o-henry-prizes","tag-short-story","tag-youmna-chlala","story-type-awards","story-type-feature","story-type-short-story-writers"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/07\/lh-holder-01.jpg","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s5rKFr-nayla","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95057","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2695"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=95057"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95057\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/240571"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=95057"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=95057"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=95057"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}