Dawud.

Chapter 43: Heat

  بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم 
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

Jannah's P.O.V

It took several days to get Dawud out of the gutter. He worked from morning to night, attempting to avoid me. That was the way men were. They cry on your shoulders once and can't look you in the eyes again. I sat up at the sound of the door unlocking and grabbed my phone. He was going to get a taste of his own medicine.

"Assalamu'Alykum." He greeted, ducking past me. There he goes again, I thought. An irritated scoff escaped my lips. "What?" Dawud asked, confused.

"Wa alaykum Salam." I sighed, lacing up my trainers. We were now in the middle of May. "I'm going to sit at the park." I said over my shoulder. When my hand reached for the door knob, Dawud was already at my side.

"Let me come with you." He blurted.

We were married for a little over two months and I knew exactly how to press his buttons. Dawud was an interesting creature. He avoided me when the two of us were home but he wouldn't be able to sit still if I were to leave him. Oh, how the tables have turned.

I raised my eyebrows with false surprise. "Oh, wow! You want to spend time with me?" I pinched his nose. "Put your shoes back on, little man."

Dawud rolled his eyes and did as I said.

*

Down the block from our apartment complex was a lush and deep forest split by weaves of thin walkways meant for summer strolls. I discovered it one day on my way back home from the masjid and made a mental note to visit it as soon as I could. I was frustrated at Dawud for not making an effort to share his feelings with me, even though a part of me understood where he was coming from. Nowadays, it felt as if I was living with an acquaintance rather than a husband. This sucked because lately, I had been undergoing a strange feeling in my lower stomach. If it was what I thought it was, Dawud better shape up. I sure hope it wasn't what I thought it was.

The sun was shining above us, scorching and close in proximity. I couldn't help but fan myself with my hand. My black abaya and navy blue hijab didn't help my cause either. I felt the rays of heat push down on my shoulders, provoking beads of sweat from my forehead. Dawud combatted the heat with one emerald eye squinted against the light and a hand over his opposite brow. I gestured over to a bench under the shade of a tree and we rushed to cool off in the dark.

Dawud sat on the bench as well, but a distance away from me. I frowned and scooted closer to him. "Why don't you play basketball anymore?" I asked him now, studying him carefully. I had to get him to start talking somehow.

With a sigh, he said "Laith."

"You love it though." I reminded him, fiddling with the hem of his collar. I was close enough to peck him on the cheek but instead, I went for the new and scruffy beard he was now happily growing.

"It's a hobby, Jannah." He said softly. I took note of the way he didn't lean on me like he usually would. It hurt.

"And teaching Quran at the mosque on the weekend? What happened to that, babe?" I asked, hoping I'd get more than a sentence in response.

"Took a break." He said inaudibly. I hated seeing him this way.

"Mhm.." Was all I could articulate. These were his life choices. I wasn't going to force him to do anything he wasn't up for. But the dry and quick answers struck my heart the most. I could feel my stomach sink as he looked on, staring at nothing but the rocky trail in front of us.

The pain I felt seeped through my actions as I detached myself from his still body. I slid over to the opposite side of the bench and sighed. What could I do? Maybe he didn't enjoy talking about himself so much. Should I tell him what has been on my mind for some time now? I asked myself.

"I want to change my major." I announced, a little too loud. I folded my hands in my lap and took a deep breath. "This whole identity crisis I've been having has really got me thinking, Dawud. I love studying business and I still want to continue doing henna for my customers. I just want to set it as a hobby, not a career. I want to study International Development." I concluded.

This wasn't a last minute decision. I had done a lot of thinking. I thought about myself and where I wanted to go in life. Watching a documentary on the development of countries in Africa, specifically my country, a fire grew inside of me. Why had certain countries developed more than others? I wanted to know. I wanted to really understand why. I thought about changing my bachelor in university from Commerce to International Development. I assumed that I was having a last-minute thought, thinking that I was stuck in the moment. It wouldn't last, I told myself. But two days later, there I was, feeling the same passion as I did before.

He was smiling. A big, genuine and sincere smile. A smile showing absolute and utter happiness and it took me by surprise having experienced his withdrawn state only moments before. He gripped the edge of the bench and plopped himself next to me. His large hands clasped my own and he looked at me through his beautiful lush lashes, urging me to continue.

"I want to get my Bachelors and get a job with a Muslim Non-Governmental Organization. That way every good deed that is done is put on my scale, insha'Allah. I want to be stable, financially and emotionally. I want to have confidence in myself and I want to study something I'm passionate about." Dawud closed his eyes and nodded apprehensively. "Why?" I questioned, "Why is it that they play clips of starving children from my country on the television without educating society on why it is they suffer? What caused these waves of famine to begin with?" I pressed. "I'm going to find out."

With nearly no space between us, Dawud leaned over and softly kissed my cheek. "That's my girl." He croaked. "I'm incredibly proud of you, Jannah."

I smiled and looked down at my hands. "That's something I haven't seen in a while."

"What is?" Dawud asked.

"Your smile." I whispered sadly.

With a heavy sigh, he laced our fingers together. "Give me some more time, Jannah. Insha'Allah this sadness will pass."