Short Story Fiction Contest May 2014 | Page 24

Egypt. You divided us when you joined the band of fucking dogs you call brothers. You divided us! You divided us!”

He finished his tirade in tears and went slack in Omar’s arms. Omar relaxed his grip and moved the fallen shisha gently out of the way and Youssef fell to the floor, sobbing. A slim silhouette appeared behind the curtains, framed by a mess of red curls. She parted the thin drapes, letting the cool breeze in, and stepped over to the heaving figure on the floor, crouching down and pulling him to her. She cooed in his ear and stroked his feathery hair. Ismail glared and clenched his fists and I, despite myself, felt a pang of jealousy, quickly stifled. She glanced up at her brother and her steady gaze said ‘Shame on you.’

I spoke. “Ismail. I think perhaps, if you fear for your safety among us, you should leave.” And even as I spoke the words I regretted them, because when Ismail left he would have Sabah in tow. Still, they needed to be said.

Ismail’s brow softened into sad resignation. “Even you, Ramy? I only wish to protect us from the enforcers of this totalitarian state. They will come, in their black cars and with their sticks, and no one will hear from you again.” He paused, letting the full effect of the words sink in. “Is that what you want? For this man, this Jew you don’t even know?”

Sabah stood and faced her brother. “Have you forgotten, oh holiest of holy men? Even if he were a Jew this man, and his people, are our siblings. You, who claim to follow Allah so righteously, what know you of the Quran?” Her expression was inscrutable but the awesome ferocity of the sun bubbled underneath.

“Silence, woman, before I make sure you never leave the house until you are married,” he scowled.