"And we have enjoined man in respect of his parents-- his mother bears him with faintings upon faintings and his weaning takes two years-- saying: be grateful to me and to both your parents; to me is the eventual coming." - Qur'an 31:14

~ This chapter is dedicated to every man and woman in Al Quds [Jerusalem,] who fight for their right to pray in Al Sakhrah mosque. If any of you are interested and have instagram, check out a profile called aqsa_jerusalem. They put up live videos and photos of what's been occuring at the mosque, including videos of clashes and fights. Very troubling. May Allah [swt] help these people. Ameen. 

Chapter 29 - Clashes. 

The sound of a door being slammed violently jolted me out of bed. I rubbed at my eyes with one hand and pulled the bed covers off with the other. I could hear Noah and Zach’s voices from outside, but since I was still half asleep, I didn’t bother trying to properly make out what they were saying. I dragged myself into the adjacent bathroom and emerged minutes later, more refreshed. I got dressed in my favourite baggy black genie pants and an aqua cardigan, with a scarf to match. Slipping my black flats on, I hastily walked out to find the boys, whilst trying not to trip.

“Stupid shoe,” I grumbled. 

Even though Zach could now see me without my scarf on, I felt it would be more appropriate, or more romantic even, for him to wait until after our wedding, when we were living together. I knew he wouldn’t mind, especially since we would begin planning our wedding as soon as we returned to Gaza. 

Yawning, I trudged into the living room and instantly, my sleepiness faded. I didn’t expect to find the boys in the state they were in. Both were sitting on the couch; Noah had his head in his hands and even though his black hair was obscuring some of his face, I could still make out a pained expression on his face.  Zach was massaging a bruise on his bicep and wincing every few seconds. 

“What happened?!” I gasped out, and both their heads snapped up towards me.  

“Clashes,” Noah groaned, rubbing at his temples fiercely. Looking at the time, I realised it was past dhur. The Israeli forces must’ve not let men in to pray today. 

“Are you guys OK?” I walked up to Zach first and kneeled in front of him, inspecting his face for any injuries. Other than the few bruises, a busted lip and some blood was all I could make out.  

“Better now you’re here,” he beamed at me. I gave him a sweet smile, but the worry must’ve still been present on my face, since he grasped my hand and squeezed it reassuringly.  

“What about you?” I said to Noah, turning to look at him. He leaned his head against the couch and closed his eyes tiredly. 

“I’m all good little sis. I’ve only got some bruises and a bad headache, it’s Zach here, who’s got a bad cut.” 

“What?!” I screeched, turning to inspect him vigorously.

“Dude,” he drawled accusingly.  

“What cut Zach? What’s he talking about?” It couldn’t have been that bad if he was back at the hotel and not in a hospital, so I knew I was being a bit irrational with my worry. 

Zach sighed and let go of my hand to pull up his shirt slightly. Near his left hip bone, a deep angry cut was visible. Blood was oozing out of the gash, staining his shirt and stomach red. I gasped again and I knew my face had started to pale a little. I could handle working with blood when I needed to, but I did not like it one bit. I grabbed Zach’s left hand, since his right one was still bandaged, and dragged him to the bathroom. 

“And you’re just sitting here, loosing blood?” I whinged whilst I pulled him along.

He chuckled as he followed behind me. “I know you don’t like the sight of blood Yasmine, I can take care of it myself.” 

“Sit,” I ordered, ignoring his comment and pulling down the toilet seat for him to sit on. He laughed again and sat down obediently whilst I opened a cupboard and pulled out the first aid kit I had remembered seeing yesterday. I wet a small cloth first and turned to him expectantly. A few moments later, and the airhead still hadn’t got the hint. 

“What?” he asked, with an adorably confused look. I tried not to outright laugh as I gestured for him to take his top off.  

“Oh right,” he mumbled sheepishly. Even in the current circumstance, I tried really hard not to ogle at him, but I must’ve failed, since I saw him smile and look away more than once. Not a cocky smirk, but a smile that said he knew I was struggling and he understood. To distract myself, I bent down and began wiping away at the blood which had painted his skin red. 

“I really can do this myself Yasmine. But I have to admit, it feels good to have someone taking care of me like this.” I sensed the humour in his voice and I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t be so cliché,” I quipped, whilst pulling out the antiseptic tube. I caught his eyes and although it was getting harder and harder to do so, I pulled mine away and began applying the cream. When he hissed in pain, I instantly apologised and tried to work much faster. Thankfully, the box included a large adhesive bandaid and I placed it on the wound gently, once I was finished.  “How did you even manage to get a cut like that?” I asked, whilst packing the box and returning it to the cupboard. 

“Honestly, I have no idea. There was so much chaos, I didn’t even realise I was bleeding until after we had left the mosque,” he said, and eyed his body for anymore unknown cuts. I was also checking for wounds, or at least that’s the excuse I gave myself, as I uncontrollably gawked at his chest.  

I cleared my throat and averted my eyes, just as he looked up again. “Well alhamdulillah you both are alright, and nothing serious happened.” He nodded his head and remained quiet, his eyes clouding up a bit, as if he was deep in thought. 

“I can’t help but wonder,” he began in a somber voice. “Every single day, they have to fight and risk their lives so they can pray…don’t you think that’s even harder than living under bombs?”  

I gnawed on my lip whilst mulling over my answer. “Maybe,” I said, meeting his deep green eyes. “But we all struggle in different ways. That is their test, whilst bombs are ours. What about poverty, starvation or homelessness? Their tests on their own and I think they’re all equally difficult. Who’s to say, one thing is easier than the other?” 

I didn’t miss the flash of respect in his eyes as he nodded his head in approval. He got up then, his body suddenly mere inches from mine.  

“See, this is why I love you Yasmine,” he uttered in a low voice, his breath fanning my face. My breathing hitched and I could feel myself turning red. All these emotions coupled with the words coming out of Zach’s mouth were still quite foreign to me. I think it would be a long time before I’d be able to remain sane, whenever Zach told me he loved me. Compliments I could handle, but it was the way he said it every time that made me feel like melting onto the floor.  

“Why’s that?” I managed to ask in my daze.  

He took a step back and finally, I could breath normally again. “Because you challenge me in every way possible. You don’t just mindlessly agree with whatever I say, you have opinions, and you’re not afraid to speak them. What’s better than a wife and husband who push and stimulate each other, bringing out the best in both?”  

“And here I thought my opinionated self was a bad thing,” I joked, grinning from ear to ear.  

Zach laughed and shook his head. “When we were younger, definitely, but not now and not with me.”  

“That’s good to know,” I murmured. I then realised that Zach was still topless and we had been conversing in the bathroom this whole time. “I’ll go get you a clean shirt,” I said quickly, before my eyes acted on their own accord again. Just as I was about to turn around and walk out, Zach grasped my wrist and halted me. 

“I’ll do it Yasmine,” he said with a genuine smile. He moved past me and out the door but then, as if he remembered something, he turned around and came back. “And thank you,” he whispered, giving me a soft peck on the cheek. I went as stiff as a statue, not knowing what to do in return. My heart, in comparison, was roaring manically, thrashing against my rib cage. 

He walked off, leaving me in such a state. After a few seconds of standing there idle, I snapped out of it as a slow smile overtook my face, and walked into the living room. My poor brother had fallen asleep on the couch, so I walked back into my room and pulled the covers off, returning to drape it over him quietly and softly. 

Strolling into the small kitchenette, I turned the kettle on to boil some water, considering I still hadn’t had my morning coffee. Whilst I waited, I checked my phone and replied to numerous messages from the girls. They wanted to know how I was coping and when Zach would be leaving. I just replied with a  ‘lot’s to tell you’, and then replied to one from my mother asking ‘are you still alive?’  

“Want some coffee?” I asked Zach. Thankfully, he was now fully clothed.  

“Mmm, yes. But I was thinking we go out and eat. What say you?” he asked, giving me a boyish grin. 

I pretended to think about it. “With you?” I asked, feigning a mock disgusted look and crinkling my nose. 

“The one and only baby,” he said, gesturing up and down his body. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes, before flicking off the button for the kettle and turning to him. 

“Let’s go then.”  

****

The day turned out much better than I expected. Zach and I went to have a traditional Arab breakfast, consisting of manouch and tea, before strolling around the city. It felt nice to be alone and not feel guilty about it. Although we both weren’t big on public displays of affection, I secretly loved it whenever Zach held my hand or put his arm around my shoulders protectively.  

I felt comfortable, so in place. I never had to hold back with Zach. We knew the workings of each other, in and out, and the only time it was awkward was when we tried to flirt with each other. That was a field still unlearned by us. 

We had gotten some food on the way back for Noah, as I knew he’d be famished and have a sook if he didn’t fill his stomach up. All three of us then spent the night together, chatting and sipping on our coffee’s, in a well known Palestinian restaurant. 

Heading out the next day, was once again nerve wracking, especially since we knew Zach would be questioned excessively on his sudden return. With the help of Allah [swt] we made it back through safely and by the time the taxi stopped in front of my house, I was more than exhausted. We had planned in the car for Zach to bring his family over tonight so we could tell them about our nikah and I prayed it would play well with both our families. 

“Sooo,” my mother drawled, a mischievous smile on her face. “Were you shocked?” 

“Shocked is an understatement mother,” I said, settling onto the couch. 

She clapped her hands happily. “This is so exciting. So much to organise now! First there’s the fatiha, then eventually your nikah and the wedding! Luckily you’ve finished uni!” She went on and on and on, and I felt the guilt begin to eat up at me, as I watched her excitement increase tenfold.  

The fatiha was a cultural ceremony done as the first step in the marriage process. It was to let everyone know that this man and this woman were getting to know each other, just incase any other potential suitors had the woman in mind. Zach and I had totally skipped that step and went straight to the nikah, so know we would sort of have to blurt out to everyone that we were married. I personally didn’t care what anyone thought, but I knew my mother did. She cared about these ceremonies and making sure everything went in order. 

I was glad Zach and Noah would be by my side tonight, since with all our input, I’m sure she wouldn’t take it too badly.  

Oh boy, was I wrong. 

When Zach eventually spit it out to our parents, including Aunt Heba, they were all shocked yet somewhat happy. But my mother - my mother looked like she’d been shot. She had the most heartbroken look on her face and without even listening to our explanation, she got up and walked quietly up to her room. That’s how I knew it was bad - because she didn’t yell, scream or demand for answers.

Panicking, I looked at Zach for help. With a stricken look on his face, he got up and gestured for me to follow. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my father spoke from his spot on the couch. 

“We have to try,” I said, rubbing at my forehead. We both walked upstairs and when we got to my parents bedroom door, we stood still in front of it.  

“Hey it’s alright,” Zach comforted, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. “She’s just shocked, she’ll come around.” He gave me a warm encouraging smile and I just shook my head.  

“I don’t know Zach…did you see her face back there?” I chewed on my lip anxiously. I felt so bad. 

“I did. Hopefully she let’s us in to talk.” With that, he gave a firm knock on the door and called out, “Khalto, please let us in. We really want to talk to you.” When she didn’t answer he said, “actually maybe you should wait downstairs whilst I talk to her.”  

“Why?” I asked, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion. Why would he want to deal with her alone? Believe me, it wouldn’t be fun. 

“Just, let me see what I can do.” 

“Are you sure?” I asked slowly, skeptically. 

“Yes. Run along now,” he grinned, giving me a push in the direction of the stairs.

“OK…” I headed back down, wondering what he had in mind. Whatever it is, I hoped it would work. Now that he was her son-in-law, he could be alone with my mother without any worries. He could even see her without her scarf on too.

“What happened?” Noah asked immediately, once I was in sight. 

“Zach said he’s going to try and talk to her,” I sighed and sat on the couch with a heavy thud. 

“Well who would have thought. Yasmine married to my nephew,” Aunt Heba started. “I guess now I’ll just have to find someone for you Noah.”  

I couldn’t help but snicker at Noah’s widened eyes. “Er, um, what about Jacob auntie? I'm sure he's  interested in marriage.”  

Jacob sent Noah a threatening glare, before smiling sweetly at his auntie. Ha, what a suck up! 

“No, you’re older by a year, so you first.” Noah just nodded his head and relaxed back into the couch defeatedly. 

“It’s OK brother, it’s not as scary as you think,” I whispered sarcastically, patting his arm. “Plus, I was thinking of having the same conversation with Salma soon,” I said, just to torture him some more.  

“Don’t you dare,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Yasmine habibti, come here and give me a hug. You’re my daughter-in-law now and I still haven’t congratulated you!” Alhamdulillah I had such a compassionate and kindhearted mother-in-law. I got up and encased her in a solid hug. “Don’t worry too much about your mother,” she said, rubbing my back affectionately. “I’ll have a talk with her too.” 

“Thanks Khalto. I didn’t think she’d be this upset,” I grumbled.  

“Although I’m happy that you and my son have finally sorted out your feelings and done something about it, as a mother, I understand where she’s coming from.”  

I nodded my head and exhaled slowly.  

“Hey you know Zach broke his hand because of you?” Jacob said from the other side of the room, a triumphant smirk on his face. 

“Because of me?” I questioned. 

“Jacob, stop trying to embarrass your brother,” Khalto said, though she was still smiling. 

“Well not exactly. Apparently, in a fit of rage towards himself, after your little ‘fight’, he punched the wall and broke his hand,” he exclaimed, cracking up in the process. “Can you believe it?” 

I put my hand over my mouth to hide my smile. So that’s why it was broken. “I can and I actually find it quite sweet Jacob.”  

“Ha!” I heard from beside me. I turned to see Zach at the edge of the stairs, my mother behind him. She looked…calm? I couldn’t pinpoint it, but at least she didn’t have the same broken look on her face anymore. “My wife takes my side, Jacob. You can’t win.”  I got momentary tingles, hearing the word 'wife' come out of Zach's mouth. Zach glanced my way, as if sensing my stare on him and all I could do was helplessly blush.

“You couldn’t side with me, just this one time, so I could get some satisfaction in annoying him, could you?” Jacob asked me, crossing his arms over his chest. His smirk was instantly replaced with a sneer. 

“Sorry,” I said, shrugging my shoulders playfully. Lifting myself off the couch, I walked up to mum and hugged her straight away.  

“So am I dead or dead?” I asked, keeping my arms firmly wrapped around her. I heard her chuckle and it was the biggest relief to hear that.  

“None.” She pulled back from me, putting her hand on my cheek. “I’m still upset Yasmine…a mother should be there, every step of the way. But I accept why you did it. You’re young and in love…with Zach’s sweet proposal, I probably would have done the same thing. I’ll just have to suck it up,” she finished, caressing my cheek softly. 

“There’s still the wedding to plan at least,” I said, hoping to cheer her up. 

“Exactly. And we’re going to make it amazing insha’Allah. The main thing is that you’re happy, that’s all I really care about.”  

“I am mum - so happy. Zach is one of a kind,” I said dreamily, turning to watch him, as he wrestled with Jacob. I was really glad they were on good terms, I just hoped Jacob would tell his family about his job soon.  

“I can tell,” my mum said. I knew it’d be a while before she fully forgave me but as long as she wasn’t ignoring me, I was happy.

“Zach, can you come with me into my office,” dad asked, once the boys had settled down. 

Oh, poor Zach.  

“Sure ‘amu.” This time, it was my turn to give him an assuring look, as he trailed behind my father.

“He’ll survive,” mum said. 

Definitions: 

 Manouch: Toasted bread with toppings such as oregano, cheese etc.

Alhamdulillah: All praise and thanks is to Allah [swt] 

Insha’Allah: If God wills

Habibti: Term of endearment, similar to ‘my love’ 

‘amu: Uncle