Chasm: The Revelation
“Who’s ready for the continuation of my story?” I asked rhetorically in a loud voice.
“Wait for me daddy.” Junior beckoned from inside the kitchen. He had gone to clear the dishes with his mother while his other siblings found a space to make themselves comfortable beside me.
“You can continue now…” It was Junior again walking out of the kitchen hurriedly and using his shirt to dry his wet hands. “You ended where Uncle Hamad left the club”
Their mother who was following closely behind quickly reminded everyone that he also blocked me on all social media. She laughed mockingly as she occupied a space on the sofa. Soon, the room was still like a graveyard.
This story is the concluding part of a story I posted some time ago. You can read the first part here before you continue.
“Okay…” I adjusted my sitting position and cleared my throat before I continued.
I was disgusted that Hamad had the bellies to block me. What was he angry about that he could not discuss it with me? We’ve been friends for years and he’s just going to wall me off like that? Such an irritating gut.
I ransacked every corner of my brain to find an explanation for his action. I scoured through the dark abyss of my heart, just to check if there was ever a time that I abhorred a grudge against Hamad. I couldn’t find anything.
My ego helped me see reasons why it was best to leave him alone and I agreed. I strongly believed that if he attributed any value to our friendship, he was going to find a way to communicate and I ran with that notion.
I still wanted to hear from him. My head played his voice multiple times but it was not enough. My ears lingered to listen to the vibration embedded in his deep baritone voice. My eyes craved to see him once again in a buttoned-down shirt that revealed his white inner, with chinos or denim trousers and some quality leather footwear. That was the way he always dressed.
Every hour, I’ll check his social media profiles to see if he has changed his mind. I would stare at my phone for a long time hoping that his call would come in. I wanted to talk to him and I could swear that he felt the same way. But it had to be him who was going to text me first.
Hours rolled into days and the days culminated into two weeks. Thoughts of Hamad were the only thing I consumed. I could barely sleep or let my mind wander.
After two weeks of wishing and waiting, it finally dawned on me that Hamad was never going to text me. I reminisced about the times we spent together, fantasied about our plans for the future, and imagined what the future would be like, without him.
After a 2-week hiatus in our friendship, I couldn’t bear it any further. I created a burner account on Twitter and followed him. I wanted closure badly and that was the most reasonable idea that I could come up with. I scrolled through his timeline with wet eyes. His media was still filled with the pictures we took when we visited some beautiful places and created even more beautiful memories.
I felt that connection again and it was luscious. I grinned from ear to ear. Hot tears rolled down from my eyes like a volcano and disappointment filled my throat.
Yes, disappointment. I was hoping to find recent information about Hamad’s life on his Twitter profile but he had not tweeted or engaged anybody’s tweet in over 2 weeks.
I was as worried as I was disappointed. What if something had happened to Hamad? What if he felt sick? Or got injured? The thoughts made me cringe.
Half relieved that I was able to gain some closure, I turned on his post notification and dropped my phone. I could not care about anything else. I fell into the very accommodating arms of my dirty student bed and drifted into a deep sleep.
It was the bell of the secondary school near my hostel that woke me up. The timekeeper announced that the break was over. I was not a student in the school but it was hard to believe. How is break over already? It’s just morning or did I sleep that long?
I picked my phone to check the time and it was afternoon already. Still in shock, a little bird icon at the top left corner of my phone caught my attention so I swiped down to see the notification.
It was Hamad. He had made a thread about his life and times as a student and long story short, he was leaving the school at first light the next day.
Something had to be done and done fast. I couldn’t live with the guilt if I didn’t get to see him before leaving so I dressed up and headed straight for his hostel.
He said nothing when he saw me but his face reflected how startled he was. He quickly composed himself and greeted me. He stretched his hands for a shake. I was disgusted by the pretense but I stretched my hands too. I remember that handshake, it was like a stillbirth, dead on arrival.
“Hamad, what’s wrong?” I threw the question at him without beating about the bush. “You left the club without telling me the other day, refused to see me, and you’ve blocked me everywhere. What did I ever do wrong that could be so unforgivable?”
Hamad denied that something was wrong. I begged, argued, retorted, and pulled all the strings I could but he wouldn’t budge.
After an hour that seemed like forever, he gave in.
“I’ll only give you one clue, and that’s all”
I nodded my head in agreement. “Anything”, I whispered silently, holding back the moisture that was beginning to build in my eyes.
“The week after your exam.”
His clue plunged me into a well of thoughts. I asked if it was the days that we travelled. Maybe he was angry that he couldn’t join the trip. He had probably seen pictures and videos of myself and Abigail swimming, dancing, and playing together. I didn’t post anything from the trip which might have made him think that I hid it from him so that he wouldn’t feel jealous.
“That’s ridiculous, I don’t know anything about what you just said and I don’t care either. Try again”, he responded.
If it wasn’t because of all that happened during the two-day trip, then it has to be because I promised him that Jessica would come for the games day on Wednesday and she didn’t show up. That wasn’t my fault. She called in sick. There was nothing I could do.
Hamad laughed at my theories. He told me to try harder.
He couldn’t be angry because Abigail showed up the next day for the movie night and he was absent.
“Still not it”, he opened his palms, stretched his palms, raised his shoulders, and tilted his head to one side to express dissent.
That left us with one last day. The club party. It was hard to think of what I could have done on that day. I was busy and away from Hamad for the better part of the day. So, what was it that I did?
I went through the details of that day and it clicked. It was the dance with Abigail. Hamad was the faceless figure that kept staring at us. It was him. He nodded. I explained the reason for the dance and he shook his head in disagreement. He said it wasn’t because of the dance.
I ran out of ideas at that moment and begged him to put me out of my misery. He turned his back, looked out the window, and began to speak.
“There’s no denying about the fact that I like Abigail. However, we both know that you also have feelings for her. She is a Christian and I am a devoted Muslim. Our two can’t work.
I know this and I have known this for a very long time. You have always had a better chance at getting her than me. So, if you think I am angry with you because of Abigail, then you are very wrong.”
I sighed for the umpteenth time. My face dropped in defeat. Hamad was right. But that didn’t explain his anger. I looked at him and asked what happened.
“I’m a very religious person and you know that… The meat in the pepper soup you gave me was pork!”
My eyelids dilated in utter shock. For the seconds that followed, I was glued to where I sat. I tried to speak but the words weren’t coming. I wasn’t sure if I was speechless or too weak to speak. I was conscious of the environment but I was numb. It felt like I was in a trance.
“Pork is haram and apart from the fact that my religion does not permit it, you know that I am allergic! What was your endgame? To poison me?”
I took a deep breath, raised my hands, and just as I was about to speak, he pointed at the rusty handle screwed 6 feet wood at the entrance “Close the door behind you, and don’t make me repeat myself.”
At this time, Junior was the only one awake. His younger siblings were lying on their mother’s laps already. He asked for the meaning of Haram and I explained it to him.
“So all the drama was because of chopped meat”, Junior’s mother asked after a loud yawn.
“Yes, Abigail… Because of chopped meat not…”
Before I could finish, Junior interjected with a question “So, what happened to Uncle Hamad?”
“The vehicle he boarded to his house the next day had a terrible accident. He didn’t survive.”
If you have read to this point, I’m glad you did.
However, I’ll like you to do one last thing for me. Let me know how much you liked this in the comment section.
Thank you.
