All That Jazz

“I’m here to see Rehema Summers.” I said, lightly drumming my fingers on the countertop. I had arrived at my mother’s nursing home, and I was scared shitless. What would I find? The nurse typed something into her computer and rose to her feet.

“Right this way.” She said politely. She led me down the long hallway into the main nurse’s station. “You’re her daughter, aren’t you?” She asked, looking back at me over her shoulder. I nodded, too nervous to speak. I hadn’t seen my mother in six years. I vaguely wondered about the hell I must have left behind. Did she think me a coward for leaving?

The nurse showed me to a door, number 311, and knocked sharply.

“Good luck.” she said quietly, and I walked in, closing the door behind me gently. My mother, a worn-out, old-before-her-time version of the woman I loved, sat in a rocking chair looking out at the small courtyard. Over her lap lay the quilt she and I had spent over a year making for Jonathan.

“Mom?” I asked weakly in Egyptian. She looked over at me, her eyes hollow and defeated. Recognition sparked in her weak eyes.

“Astarte.” She held her arms out to me, and I crossed the room, grabbing her hands and kneeling at her feet. I rested my head on her knee, closing my eyes and breathing in her scent.

“I’ve missed you, Mom. I’m so sorry I left.” It felt good to speak to her again, to see her again. But the hollow look in her eyes haunted me. What unspeakable things had been done to her?

“I’m glad you left when you did.” A small smile graced her lips. “It saved you from a terrible fate.”

“What do you mean?” A lump was forming in my throat, tears burned in the backs of my eyes.

“Your father was going to send you back to Egypt when you turned sixteen. He’d promised you to that wretched sheik in Ethiopia.” Lead fear paralyzed my lungs. I swallowed roughly; I’d deal with that later. I was more concerned about my mother right now.

“What happened after I left?” I asked, fearing the worst.

“Your father got worse and worse. Without you, Jonathan became his scapegoat, but I always stepped in to defend him. I enrolled Jonathan in more and more classes to keep away from home, until I hardly ever saw him at all. One day, he just didn’t come home. I haven’t seen him in 3 and a half years.” She said sadly.

“What happened to him?” I asked fearfully.

“I don’t know!” My mother cried. “I wish I knew, Astarte.” Tears fell freely down her withered cheeks, making me shake with fear and burn with anguish.

“It’s ok, Mom, I’ll find him.” I promised, rising to hug her tightly. “What about Rick?”

“Your father died of liver failure two years ago. Jonathan went missing about a year or so before that.” I knelt next to her chair, her hands grasped firmly in my own.

“How did this happen?” I asked, my own tears sliding along my skin.

“Your father hated him so much, Astarte. He always has, simply because Jonathan was not his son, even though we all pretended he was.” She drew a deep breath.

“It was his own fault; making you ‘entertain’ all the men who paid us a visit. I will never forgive him for that.”

“I have already forgiven him…for what he has done to me. What was done to you was…I’ve always blamed myself.” She let out a strangled sob and looked into her lap.

“You have no reason to, Mama. It was not your fault.” I squeezed her hands as I watched her cry.

“Hearing of it happening to other young girls was terrible. Hearing of it done to my own child- When I learned I was carrying you, I promised myself that I would never let a man take advantage of you like that, and I failed.” Rehema ran her wrinkled hands through her hair.

“I’m not angry with you, Mama, surely you know that. The only people I blame are those responsible.”

“I’ve never forgiven your father for letting those men take advantage of you. But what could we do, as women in a male-dominated country? Even here, there is nothing we can do.”

“Don’t let him win, Mama. He wanted to drag us down and see us defeated. Don’t let him! You’re stronger than this!” I wanted to scream and shout at the injustice, the tragedy that had befallen my mother. I wanted my father to pay, to suffer worse than we all had.

“No, Astarte, I was. But your father has finally broken me.” She said, her eyes faded and sullen.

“Listen to me, Mama.” Her weak eyes rose to meet my determined gaze. “I will find Jonathan and you will get better! And we will be together again, I promise you on my life.”

“It is too late for that, Astarte. I am already dying.” I opened my mouth to protest, but shock overwhelmed me. Surely I wouldn’t find my mother, only to lose her again? What kind of cruelty is that? A knock on the door jarred me from my despair. I turned to see a nurse standing in the doorway, an apologetic look on her face.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but visiting hours are over for the day.” I nodded to her with a smile and faced my mother. “I will come and see you tomorrow, I promise. We’ll have lunch together. How would you like that? I’ll bring all of your favorites.” I squeezed my mother’s hand again and rose to hug her tightly before kissing each of her cheeks. “I love you Mom.”

“I love you, Astarte. I’ll be watching for you. ” She said happily as she kissed my cheeks as well. I wiped my eyes before squeezing her hands one last time and followed the nurse back to the front door.

As I made my way back to my car, I felt the world pressing down on me. The clouds above me were gray and selfish, holding back all the sunshine for themselves. What would happen to my mother? What would happen to me? Was my brother really dead? It was too much to contemplate, too much to handle right now. I got in my car and shut the door, shut out the world, and fell apart. It was safe here, where no one could see me or hear me shatter into a million pieces. My resolve was crumbling, my will was battered, and all I wanted to do was run. My breath came is gasps and the tears continued to fall even after my sleeves were drenched. I had never cried this hard before, never hurt this much before. Why wouldn’t it stop?

All my life I’d been strong for others. I’d carried their burdens, as well as my own, on my shoulders. I wasn’t used to this kind of pressure. I was afraid I might break, or worse, disappoint someone important to me. I needed to go home, I needed to see The Joker. He always made me feel better.

When I arrived back at the mansion, The Joker was waiting for me in his usual spot. I smiled weakly at him and headed straight into the kitchen to grab dinner, which surprisingly he’d made for me. I sat down opposite The Joker and began to brainstorm for tomorrow. Fasieekh was my mother’s favorite dish, and I planned on making all of her favorites. Ful Mudammas, koushari, gebna makleyah, bucklava and shai would make her perfect meal. The Joker sensed there was something on my mind and left me to my own devices. I ate my dinner in silence, racking my brain to remember the ingredients I needed. I scribbled out a grocery list and washed my dishes before taking my usual spot on the couch. The Joker handed me the book I’d started reading the day before.

“I’m making lunch for my mom tomorrow.” I announced, thumbing through the book.

“This means you’re going to be making weird food, doesn’t it?”

“It is not weird! It’s Middle Eastern!” I scolded.

“Which is politically correct for weird.” The Joker smiled at me. “I’m just playin’, dollface. As long as I don’t have to eat it, I don’t care what you make in the kitchen.”

“It won’t kill you to try something new.” I turned the page, looking up at him

“Why take the chance?”

“You might like it.”

“I might die.”

“I thought it was impossible to kill you.” I closed my fingers in the book and turned to face him.

“For a person to plan to kill me, yes, it’s impossible. But I might be allergic to something in whatever it is you’re making.” He argued.

“You are such a baby.” I scoffed. “I’m going to bed; I have to get up super early tomorrow. I might even wake you up.” I teased, kissing his forehead and smiling at the death look he shot me. “I’m so scared, honey. I’m just kidding, I’ll let you sleep in peace.”







AN: Sorry it's so short! I'm working on the next chapter right this very minute, so don't kill me! As always, any and all reviews (yes, even flames) are welcome. I should have the next chap up here real soon! Much love, Lady Jade