Page 225 - A Woman Is No Man
P. 225

daughters for me to take care of, but now I have to worry about how you
                want to raise them—”
                     “No! You don’t have to worry.”

                     “Is that so?” Adam stepped toward her, and she shrunk back against the
                headboard, feeling the room close in on her.
                     “Please, Adam, I swear, I didn’t mean—”
                     “Shut up!”
                     She turned from him, but he smashed her head into the headboard. Then
                he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into their daughters’ bedroom.
                     “Stop, please! The girls—”

                     “What’s the matter? You don’t want them to see? Maybe it’s time they
                see what it means to be a woman.”
                     “Please, Adam, they shouldn’t see this.”
                     “Why not? Don’t you walk around sad all the time, anyway? Are you
                trying to scare them off marriage? Is that your plan?”
                     He grabbed her by the sides of her face and twisted her head so she had

                a full view of her daughters in bed. His hands moved to her neck, holding
                her  still.  “Do  you  see  these  girls?  Do  you?”  She  struggled  to  catch  her
                breath. “Do you?”
                     “Yes,” she managed to choke out.
                     “Listen closely, because I won’t say this again. My daughters are Arabs.
                Are we clear? Arabs. If I ever hear any talk of choices again, I’ll make sure
                they wake up to your screams. I’ll make sure they see what happens when a

                woman disobeys her husband. Fahmeh? Do you understand me?”
                     Isra  nodded,  gasping  for  air,  until  Adam  released  his  grip.  He  left  to
                shower without another word.
                     Isra cupped her hand to the side of her head and felt blood.


                Later  she  would  think  it  was  her  books  that  had  made  her  do  it.  All  the
                feelings  that  had  silenced  her  for  so  long—denial,  shame,  fear,
                unworthiness—were  no  longer  enough.  As  soon  as  she  heard  the  water

                running, she went back into the girls’ bedroom. She opened the window.
                The cool air was harsh against her skin. She climbed out. As soon as her
                feet hit the cement, she ran.
                     Where  was  she  heading?  She  didn’t  know.  She  ran  down  Seventy-
                Second Street and onto Fifth Avenue, pausing only to catch her breath. It
                was midnight, and all the shops were closed with the exception of a deli on
   220   221   222   223   224   225   226   227   228   229   230