Wafaa spent the next two days helping around the camp, avoiding Malik (who was on vacation from the Thousand Year War), and taking photos with her mind of cool or funny things. On Thursday night she saw the brightest and greenest comet she’d ever seen. In a rare display of good humor, her father said that he will find this fallen star and give it to Wafaa because she was the prettiest girl in the tribe and the queen of soot and fire. He then kissed her on the forehead, picked up a big gun and drove off with some men who ululated like jackals as they disappeared into the night.
In her family, even the sweetest gestures had to be terrifying.
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On Friday morning, with many of the men still searching for the comet (Grandfather alone knew what they needed it for…), Wafaa snuck out of the women’s tent and hastily made her way to the ruins that were her sovereign domain. She hopped from rock to rock and dodged through thick bushes and trees heavy with fruits and flowers.
The air fluttered with myriad butterflies, as if the sky got jealous of the blossom and decided to compete with flowers of its own. A family ibexes grazing on a spot only they could reach looked at her curiously. “Good morning!” Wafaa thought in their direction.
Salim was already there, accompanied by his dog and his smile. He sat cross-legged at the shadow of the leaning wall and was deeply engrossed in his big and shiny phone. Wafaa didn’t return his smile. She didn’t know how.
“Ahlan wah sahaln!” Salim spread his hands for a hug, but Wafaa slipped away. She didn’t trust him enough to allow him to hold her. He looked disappointed but not angry.
They talked a little about politics and the weather. That is, Salim talked. Wafaa nodded, snatched colorful chocolates from a plastic bag, and occasionally grunted assent. Salim showed Wafaa some tricks he taught his dog. Wafaa pretended to be impressed even though she had no use for dogs or tricks. Wafaa struggled to think of something interesting she could tell him, but nothing came to mind. Her life was nine tenths boredom and one tenth unspeakable horror.
Undeterred by the girl’s solemnity, Salim proceeded to show her some videos on his phone. Like a sundial, the duo shifted around as Salim kept creeping nearer, forcing the girl to adjust her position to maintain a comfortable distance. Once his hand found her knee and she nearly ran away. Nearly.
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Wafaa didn’t care for watching firefights in Syria or traffic accidents in Russia… she had seen enough of both at home. She enjoyed listening to pop songs from Lebanon and Egypt. The singer from Lebanon was so beautiful and talented… Wafaa was instantly smitten. Wafaa tried to join in the chorus. She must have been quite bad at it, because Salim’s smile turned into a grimace that faded only when the song was over.
“Sorry.” Wafaa muttered. “I ruined the song.”
Salim laughed.
They watched a few more videos in English. Salim guffawed and Wafaa forced a thin smile. She simply didn’t see what was funny about a man stepping out of a car and being hit by another car, or a girl trying to jump into a lake and hitting a tree instead. She remembered her own recent tumble. It hurt. She did laugh at the farting cat though. It was funny because cats didn’t fart like that in real life.
Then Salim tried to kiss her, suddenly, without warning. Wafaa cried and pushed him away so hard he fell on his side. He instantly exploded into a torrent of apologies, claiming that this was just another bad joke. Wafaa finally agreed to meet him again next week, but only if he swore by his mother and by God that he will not try anything like that again.
Salim reddened but did as she commanded.
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The men returned on Saturday more excited than Wafaa had ever seen them. Her father didn’t bring her anything, but he did kiss her on the forehead and said that soon she will have a whole star just for her and everyone will call her Princess. Wafaa shrugged. She’d rather have a phone than a star.
The men then disappeared again, leaving the women and children with no stars but plenty of goats and laundry. Wafaa imagined the goats floating in space with spaceman helmets and giggled. She then went looking for her brother Nour. She wanted to fight someone and he was the only person in the camp smaller than she was yet not so small as to be protected by the women.
Looking for her brother, she instead ran into Malik. He was packing his rucksack, looking forlorn. He was a handsome man, but he had evil eyes. Wafaa didn’t like him or the loud bike he always rode.
“Hey cousin!” he cried. “Did someone stain your honor?”
“Um… No…” Wafaa said cautiously.
“Hm.” Malik shrugged. “Let me know if someone does. I’ll kill him.”
“Um… Thanks?”
Malik blew some air through his nose, as if he didn’t have the energy for a proper laugh. “Yallah, I’m gone. Hold the fort for me, cousin.” He leaned low, as if about to whisper a grave secret. “You and I, we’re the last two heroes.”
“Um… Okay?”
Malik kissed the top of Wafaa’s head, hopped on his bike and rode into the sunset, music blasting so loud even the chickens tried to fly.