Chater 8: The Calling

I hurtled down the steps and rushed towards the main foyer. According to my teacher’s instructions earlier that day, everyone was expected back in the main foyer at 2.45pm. It was now 3.00pm. My stomach grumbled from hunger, and I had no choice but to suppress the feeling. I didn’t get a chance to eat lunch earlier and I certainly didn’t have a chance to eat something now. The day had sped by with the speed of a formula 1 driver. One minute I was leisurely strolling through the building and the next minute I was talking to a ghost. Sorry, not a ghost. A jinn.

Skidding into the meeting area, I paused to catch my breath. My classmates were nowhere to be seen. My teachers weren’t there either. They must have gone out to the bus. I sprinted out hoping they hadn’t left me behind. If they had, then it would take me another two hours to make my way home via the underground. My heart was racing in fear. I was going to be in so much trouble with both the school and my parents. Thankfully, in the distance, I spotted the silver coach that had brought us here in the morning and ran towards it.

My teacher was waiting outside, anxiously peering into her mobile phone.

“Hannah! There you are! We have been calling you!”

“I’m sorry! I lost track of time.” I could have died of embarrassment.

I boarded the bus to a chorus of jeering. My classmates ridiculed me, and their calls followed me to my seat.

“Where the hell were you?” Anna’s voice was high-pitched.

“I forgot to check the time. I was at the far end of the building. A long walk.” I fumbled for an excuse. There was no way I was going to tell her what had just happened to me.

“I got so worried! I was calling you!”

I checked my phone. 9 missed calls. How I hadn’t seen them earlier was beyond me. I didn’t even hear my phone ring. Vazar’s story had enthralled me. I had heard of the Jinn many times throughout my childhood. Our religion mentioned it in the Quran. However, it was difficult for me to believe that they actually existed. It was one thing to believe blindly on faith but to actually experience it in person was a totally different ball game.

Oblivious to my silence, Anna chattered about her day. She had taken around 300 or so pictures and wanted to know which one was best for her Instagram. I couldn’t care less about her Instagram. I needed her to shut up so I could think in peace. I wasn’t sure how I could get her to be quiet without sounding rude. So, I ummed and aahed at her pictures all the way home.

Sometime later, we were dropped off at school and I finally found some time to think on the walk home. By now, a fair bit of time had passed since my encounter with Vazar. I was walking along a bright street in broad daylight and the very notion of it all seemed ridiculous. By the time I reached home, I had convinced myself I had imagined it all and let myself in the front door.

There stood my parents, glaring at me.

“Where were you?” My dad demanded.

In all the drama of the day, I had forgotten to text them to let them know I would be over an hour late from school.

Shit. Just what I need! My tongue was tied in fear and my mind went blank. None of the excuses I had thought of this morning wanted to appear.

“We called the school. You didn’t tell us there was a field trip planned.” Mama wagged her finger at me.

“I…I…I forgot. I only remembered when I arrived at school,” shrugging out of my jacket I turned away from them so they couldn’t see the lie in my eyes.

“You know you are not allowed to go on any trip without our permission!” Mama continued.

“Mama, it was to a museum. It was very safe. We were with the teacher the whole time,” I tried to soften the situation.

“You will not disobey us, Hannah!” Thundered Mama. “Now, you will be making the decisions of this household? What are here for then?”

“It was an educational trip. I wasn’t out partying!” I retorted.

“You are out of control, young lady!” Mama’s voice rose a few more octaves as she turned to speak to her husband. “Let’s send her to your sister in Lahore!”

My heart skipped a beat at her words. There was no way I would leave this country. I would rather die than be shipped out to live in a village.

“Get out of my sight! I don’t want to see you!” Mama shoved past me and retired to the lounge.

Dad tutted at me and followed suit. I was left alone at the bottom of the stairs trembling at their threat.

“Psst.”

I looked up and saw Amaara hanging over the upstairs banister.

“Come here!”

Gladly, I went upstairs to greet her.

“Where did you go?”

A wave of relief washed over me. I sagged against her and shook my head, “you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

She dragged me into her bedroom and shut the door. “Try me.”

“First, will you go get me something to eat? I’m starving.” My stomach had been complaining all the way home from school.

Amaara disappeared out of the room. Laying down on her cool white pillow, I closed my eyes and thought of my afternoon. His voice still resonated in my mind, clear as glass, I remembered every word he said. I remembered the way he accidently pushed me forward, and my hand went up to touch the same should he touched. I could still feel it. He was real, wasn’t he?

I swayed between the two mindsets and decided it was best to tell Amaara and get her opinion.

When she returned with a plate full of chicken curry and naan bread, I relayed my entire adventure. Her face illustrated every emotion known to mankind. By the time I was done, my lunch had digested, and it grew dark outside. Amaara was incredulous.

“So, you didn’t see him?” She pressed.

“No.”

“You heard his voice? Are you sure you weren’t imagining it?”

“No! I wasn’t hallucinating! I’m pretty sure it happened.” I touched my shoulder again.

“Oh honey! I think you’re just too stressed out. Maybe you imagined it all? Last night was pretty stressful on you. I think you need to rest and have a good night’s sleep.”

With that said, we both fell silent. My head was heavy from the day and dinner time was fast approaching. We were expected to be downstairs shortly to start preparations. I rested my eyes and felt a twinge in my heart, it felt as though a heartburn was coming on. Maybe I ate my lunch too fast. The uncomfortable burn stayed with me all evening throughout dinner and right through serving the late evening cup of tea. By the time we all retired to our rooms, the pain had intensified and gripped my chest like a vice. There was no ignoring it now. I swallowed a couple of Rennie and settled into bed.

His story replayed itself in my head. Jinns, portals and war. It was a lot to take in. It wasn’t just his story that was causing me anxiety, it was him. His smooth voice, the way he listened and patiently answered my questions. I reveled in the way I had his full undivided attention. A warm glow heated my chest, me made me feel special and that feeling of being valued trumped the feeling of uncertainty about our meeting. I asked myself the question again, was it real? Did it actually happen? Was I imagining it all?

Later that night, I still had no definite answers. Amaara clearly thought I was making it all up. She thought it was something I had created in my mind as a means of escapism from the family drama. I didn’t know if she was right or wrong and I tossed and turned. Sleep eluded me. I kept hearing his voice whispering my name. In my state of anguish, I knew now that the heartburn keeping me awake wasn’t a minor health ailment. It was Him. He was calling.