PIR’S WORDS PLAYED OVER AND OVER again in my head during the twenty-minute drive from the shrine to the hospital. I only marvelled at the telepathic headband that enabled psychic telecommunication between distant parties. Was it purely technological with some chip embedded that was capable of things I had only read about, and which were rumoured to be used by the Green Berets?
Or could I be having some kind of auditory hallucination thanks to the multiple concoctions I was given to ingest, Hoor Afza included? Or was this something even stranger; something that sprang from a world only Pir and Chacha Khidr could understand?
Whatever the explanation may be, it was Pir’s voice that had resounded within my head over my left temple with the best news of all: Tarzan was alive. The boy had a bright future under the tutelage of someone like Pir. His death at such a young age would have been a terrible loss. Besides, I just liked the kid. And what of Chacha Khidr? He had to be alive too. He was clearly even less a part of this world than Pir and had probably defied death a thousand times.
I drove through the gate of the hospital, looking for signs of any suspicious activity. All the lights were out and the place looked deserted. To make sure someone driving through the gate couldn’t see my car, I left it at the far end of the empty parking lot.
As I walked across the tarmac to the hospital entrance, I tapped my headband. I also wondered if Laila was on duty tonight at the reception desk.
‘Pir, hello! Are you there?’ I thought but got no answer.
I climbed the steps to the emergency room entrance and paused. It would be damn near impossible to find my way around in the dark once I was inside the building. And I would never be able to navigate through that tunnel of junked furniture piled outside the bathroom door.
I thought about going to the drug store across the street for a flashlight, even a keychain mini-light maybe, when the door swung open. I was pleasantly startled to see Laila barreling through the darkened doorway.
Her huge kohl-lined eyes widened when she saw me. She had an unlit cigarette in one hand and a Styrofoam cup in the other. We just stared at each other in silence for several awkward seconds.
‘I love the headband, Ismael,’ she said, grasping for something to say.
‘Good to see you again, Laila,’ I replied, flashing her a broad smile. It was the truth. I couldn’t remember one girl out of the many whom I had slept with, once upon a time in New York, who had made me want her with the kind of passion I was feeling at this minute. This shrouded beauty in black with her big, black gorgeous eyes said all that needed to be said. I was more than delighted to see her again, but there was a part of me that also knew this girl was trouble.
‘I’m on my break. Come have a smoke with me.’ She said it like a dare, sensing I probably wouldn’t refuse her offer. Not waiting for a reply, she glided over to the service ramp and leaned back against the cement railing.
I knew I would never reach the bathroom unless I smoked with her. The task of getting the book had suddenly gotten a lot more complicated than it seemed a moment ago. ‘Sure, I could definitely use one.’ I followed her down the ramp.
Laila sighed, lifted the edge of her veil and took a sip from her cup, then set it on the ledge beside her. Pulling a white pack of Marlboro Lights out of the folds of her burqa, she tapped one halfway out and pointed it towards me.
I shivered with excitement; to be in such close proximity to that dazzling pair of eyes was sheer bliss. She flicked her lighter and lit my cigarette first.
The girl had style! With a smile on my face, my instincts triggered, I leaned back against the railing next to her, our bodies just inches apart. I took off my headband, stuffed it in my pocket, while brooding. I was expected to perform better this time around and I was already failing. Regardless, I didn’t want Pir to intrude into moments of my personal life.
‘I had a feeling you’d be back,’ she said, as she slid her veil from over the corner of her mouth, and pressed the cigarette between her lips.
She slid her body closer to mine, but still not touching, and lit the cigarette which looked as if it was suspended in the darkness by magic. She looked toward the sky and took a long drag. I wished she would just take the damn veil off.
‘I don’t know—it feels like I’ve known you for a long time,’ she said, exhaling into her veil. With an eerie effect, smoke rose through the thin black fabric of her burqa.
‘It’s uncanny. I actually feel the same way.’ I slid towards her and stopped when our bodies touched.
‘I liked your headband. The red looks good on your face. Why did you take it off?’ She gently pressed herself against me.
‘To cool my head.’
‘I love the Nike slogan.’
‘Me too!’ Was our conversation going to stay so inane?
‘Just do it!’ She turned to face me. ‘Life’s too short.’
‘Just do it?!’ I squeaked, unsure of what she was up to. Even in New York City such careless sprints to the finish line were frowned upon.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, closing up whatever little distance there was between us and pressing her shoulder into mine.
I clasped my hands in front of me and stared at the glowing tip of my cigarette, watching it rise slowly away from my body. Damn, the girl didn’t stand on formalities.
‘Can I see your face?’ I asked, swallowing hard. ‘I’m not really into anonymous sex,’ I added with a smile, unable to find anything else to say.
Laila flicked her cigarette away and watched it roll down the ramp into oblivion. Her lips brushed the rim of her cup as she slid in front me. Her veiled face was inches from mine now and her breath, through the black curtain over her face, was warm against my cheek. Her eyes were aflame with passion and bore into mine.
I lowered my head to give her a kiss where I thought her lips would be but she turned away. Then suddenly she turned back and embraced me with such hunger that I felt as if she was going to devour me, her body pulsating with raw energy. Her large, firm breasts pressed against my chest flared my own fire to a new high. I was burning with desire. Any sense of control I had was now gone. Feeling my hardness, Laila pressed her crotch against me and swayed her body with mine.
‘Just do it,’ she pleaded in my ear, biting my earlobe through the fabric of her burqa.
‘You’re a dangerous woman,’ I panted, breathing hard into her ear as my arm encircled her waist and I pressed her body tightly against mine. I knew I had fallen headlong into the pit of my lust and only a miracle could keep me from fully indulging in it. Unlike fear, my lust was proving too hard to get a good handle on; it needed my active participation to die down. Where the hell was my willpower? It seemed to have gone to sleep somewhere. I had to put up a fight.
‘Would you please take your goddamn burqa off?’ I asked. Inside the voluminous black covering, her body felt like that of a girl in her mid-twenties. Slim, toned, hot. But I could be terribly wrong in this land of strange uncertainties.
‘This is not New York City! We’d be crazy to do it right here,’ she whispered with a deep sigh.
I wanted to tell her that wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I asked her to remove her burqa. All I wanted was to see her face, but I didn’t say anything. I relaxed my grip on her waist and she pulled away, her small hand dragging across my chest.
‘Come with me,’ she said, the voice of a confident tease returning. Grabbing her cup from the railing, she started walking up the ramp.
‘I know a secret place,’ she said over her shoulder.
‘You’re playing with fire, Miss Night.’ But I was the one getting singed.
‘Night has to seek fire to become illuminated,’ she said.
‘Uh-oh… They’re selling a variety of stones for people like us in the market,’ I said, struggling to slow things down.
‘Yes, we’re good for the economy,’ she quipped. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Suddenly I was hit by strange kind of déjà vu. I felt like I had already lived a lifetime with this girl, as if I knew her all the way down to the root of her soul. I shook my head to dispel such fluffy notions.
‘Not tonight. I’ve got things to do.’
‘Ah! Men. Scared of getting stoned.’
Now she had challenged my manhood.
What if she turned out to be the agent of some secret society? What if her crowd didn’t jibe with my secret society? Under the circumstances, anything was possible. I was afraid to touch my headband, which was still safely tucked in my pocket. I was afraid to put it on lest Pir started barking orders in my head. What if he called while we were making out? He would surely wonder why I didn’t have it on. I assumed that it had to be on my head for the communication to take place. What if the headband was communicating right from my pocket? What if Pir could not only talk, but also see my activities through this telepathic headset of his? Was it just simply stupid and dangerous to assume anything at all about Pir? It definitely seemed like it.
‘Hey listen…’ I started, as she headed for the door, its glass reflecting flashing red lights. Damn! It was the Commaqaadis!
‘Stay quiet and follow me,’ she whispered.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I dashed behind her, as the flashing red lights neared the hospital gate.
The power was still out as we walked past the glass-panelled entrance down the dark hall toward the rear of the building, skirting along the wall separating us from the emergency room waiting area. I knew exactly where we were headed.
A minute later we stood in front of the ten-foot wall of rusting hospital junk. Laila’s lighter came in handy and I was able to see the twisted cabinet Tarzan and I had used the night before. The girl was taking me closer to the object of my mission. So far so good. My desire was in harmony with my mission, geographically speaking. I was on the right track. But could I resist her? I wasn’t sure. Be strong, I told myself. You can do it.
We crept through the same tunnel he had led me down, and we exited through the same broken closet door. The bathroom still smelled of Tarzan’s handiwork on the briefcase. The flame from the lighter began to splutter just as we reached our destination.
‘I can’t keep it on—it’s burning my finger,’ she said, extinguishing the flame and my hope of seeing her face.
We stood in pitch darkness, listening to our breathing, ready to devour each other. My desire for her was like a blaze that had all but consumed whatever was left of my sense of duty.
If this were going to happen, it would have to in a standing position, unless I could find myself a chair or a bench from the pile of junk.
Laila threw herself into my arms. Mustering the last of my willpower, I jerked away.
‘Wait!’
‘What’s the matter? What’s happening?’ Laila asked, touching my face with her fingers.
‘I’m going to look for a chair or something,’ I said, heading toward the door. ‘Just stay put. I’ll be back.’
‘What? Where are you going?’ she asked, obviously confused and sounding annoyed. ‘We don’t need a chair.’
Without replying, I opened the door and dashed out of the bathroom, making sure to close it behind me.
I stood in the dark by the pile of junk, my mind racing. I had a feeling that Pir must be trying to get in touch with me, so I took the headband out of my pocket and put in on.
‘Where have you been, Ismael?’ Pir roared in my head.
‘Sorry, Pir. Can’t explain right now—but I’m right next to the book,’ I thought, hoping Pir wouldn’t pick up any of the savory details of the last few moment from my mind.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’ I moved away from the door and stuck my head under what my probing fingers told me was a wooden desk balanced atop the steel beams of what felt like a bunch of IV stands and end tables.
‘Waiting for further instructions, Pir,’ I whispered into the underside of the desk.
‘All right, now I’m not going to repeat myself, so listen very carefully.’
‘Go ahead,’ I said, taking the measure of the desk with my hands. It seemed perfect for the intended purpose.
‘First, find a quiet place where no one will disturb you, somewhere you can lie down for ten to fifteen minutes. Then open the book and examine its pages closely. You’ll see scored indentations dividing each page into small squares of a centimeter in size.’
‘Yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about,’ I said, remembering the look of the pages.
‘Good. With the book in your hand, carefully tear one square from one of the pages and then close the book. Next, remove the headband and tie it around the book as if it was your head. Make sure it fits snuggly. Did you get all that?’
‘Yeah, got it. Go ahead,’ I said, feeling a little annoyed and confused.
‘Then lie down on a comfortable spot and put the torn piece of paper under your tongue.’
‘Then?’ I muttered apprehensively.
‘There is no then, then.’
‘Not another drug, Pir! Please. I’m still not over my jet lag or the other chemicals,’ I said, feeling exhausted and dejected.
‘Well, what can I say? Your desire to see Paradise was so heartfelt and sincere that it moved heaven and earth. See you soon,’ he said and then closed off his thoughts. He was gone, just like that.
‘Paradise!’ I said out loud, moving the desk and banging it against the pile to let Laila know I was still out there. Did he mean he was going to see me in Paradise?
I slowly straightened up, using the top of my head to lift the desk off the broken poles. Steadying the bulky weight with my hands, I inched toward where I thought the door was. Thankfully, Laila was standing there to guide me through. She flicked her lighter on just in time and I managed to get the desk through the door by tilting it slightly. In the light of her flame, my weirdly distorted shadow jerked across the floor of the bathroom revealing exactly how precarious the maneuver was.
‘We needed something really sturdy to support our weight,’ I said, trying to catch my breath and thinking the only way to get rid of this girl would be to satisfy her now. I had no choice but to do it for the sake of my mission.
‘Passion doesn’t need any external support,’ she told me, locking the door from the inside. ‘Do you realize the desk only has three legs?’
‘Would you please help me?’ I asked, kneeling on the floor, feeling stupid as hell.
She scrambled to help me get the thing off my head, then stepped back. Once the desk was on the floor, it fell over the moment I let go. She turned on the flame, her gorgeous eyes staring at me quizzically.
Still kneeling on the floor in a humbled state of genuine despair, I felt torn between my duty and my desire. This burqa-clad temptress, whose face had remained elusive to my hungry eyes, had proven to be as formidable a force as Pir. I was pretty sure he wasn’t listening at the moment.
Maybe it would work if the desk, which was about four feet high, was moved closer to the sink and we used the latter as a support for the missing leg. What if the height of the desk and the sink turned out to be uneven?
‘What’s wrong?’ Laila asked. She came over and threw her arms around my neck and crushed her body into mine. Suddenly, I regained my wits. There was something really weird about her behaviour; even her movements seemed strange. She came off as too horny and over the top for my taste. At the very least, I had to see her face if I was going to allow her to take up any more of my time and energy. My desire began to wane.
‘Sorry,’ I said, disentangling myself from her arms. ‘I just can’t do it, not like this, not until I see your face,’ I gently placed my hands on her slim waist to show her we were still in negotiations. Just then something beneath my hand began to vibrate.
Laila pulled away from me and dug a cell phone out of her burqa. She looked at the number.
‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ she said into the phone. Hanging up, she touched my face with her fingertips.
‘You stay here, love. I’ll be back. They’ve brought in a head-injury case. I have to go.’
‘I guess we’re calling it off for the night.’
‘It’s not even midnight yet,’ she said. ‘Ismael, please don’t go! It won’t take me more than ten or fifteen minutes at the most,’ she pleaded.
Ten or fifteen minutes. That’s exactly what I was looking for.
‘Okay fine—I’ll wait.’
‘See if you can find something sturdier than that desk. I have to run,’ she said, heading toward the door. ‘And keep the headband on your head. It looks so sexy on you.’
‘Leave your lighter with me, if you don’t mind. You can use the light on your phone to get out,’ I said.
Without a word, she handed me the lighter and disappeared out the door and into the dark maze of junk.
I flipped the lighter on and climbed on top of the commode. Reaching into the tank and feeling around, I breathed a sigh of relief. The book was there, lying on the bottom of the tank, right where I had dropped it.
Going over Pir’s instructions, I looked around the room for a place where I could sit and lean against the wall. The most suitable spot was a six-foot-wide area between the door and the sink.
Laila had left her styrofoam cup on the sink. I picked it up, smelled it and cautiously took a sip. As soon as the vile liquid touched my tongue, I spat it out into the sink and wiped my mouth in disgust with the back of my hand. Holy crap! Laila had been drinking the goddamn Hoor Afza. No wonder she had been acting so provocatively.
Making myself comfortable beside the sink, I opened the book and tore one of the little squares from the top corner of the first page. I then pulled my headband off and slid it over the book’s leather-bound cover from top to bottom—the only way to fit it snugly. I looked at my watch. It was now 11.30 p.m. I extinguished the lighter, said my bismillah, and put the little square of paper under my tongue.
Immediately an effervescent sweetness bubbled across my tongue and flowed through the roof of my mouth into my brain. My forehead tingled as if a host of butterflies were fluttering behind my eyes. My heart pounded in my chest as a delicious vibration washed through my body from my head to my feet. Feeling a little apprehensive, I turned on the lighter and looked at my hands and arms. There was no sign of shaking; the flame in my hand was perfectly steady and surrounded by an intense multicoloured halo. Taking a deep breath, I flicked the lighter shut and the room sunk in darkness.
The inner shaking intensified and my head swelled with a roaring noise. I felt as if I was being suspended in space and immediately the noise surged into a shrieking wail. Then all sound and sensation melted into a brilliant white light that shattered like glass into a million diamond-tipped arrows, which plunged toward the core of my being. My body felt so heavy, like I was weighed down by a massive boulder.
Keeping my eyes shut, I allowed the arrows of light to pierce my body. Then something hot and fleshy shot into my mouth and started moving around. I heard Laila’s voice from far away and tried opening my eyes but my eyelids refused to budge.
‘You’re all sweet like honey.’
I almost gagged when I realized Laila was on top of me, her tongue hungrily exploring the interior of my mouth. I tried twisting my torso to get her off me, but my body felt paralyzed. I had lost all power to resist and my limbs hung loosely at my sides like those of a dead man. I tried to speak, but my tongue refused to move. I panicked, realizing I wasn’t even breathing.
‘Come back!’ Laila screamed.
That was the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness.