When It Is Forbidden

Rafi's wedding ceremony came all too quickly and he left me.  I know he had no choice, but I missed him.  I stayed in my room thinking about our many memories and morning walks when I was not doing my tedious prayers or eating meals.

            But after a few days, Mother told me to "stop being such a child and go on with life".  Though I disagreed and didn't want to go on with life without my brother, I didn't have any fight left in me to argue.  I went back to chores, cooking and cleaning the house.  As the weeks went on, my spirit was broken and I became a mere shadow of the energy-filled girl I once was.  My skin began to turn even paler as it was never exposed to sunlight.  Soon it was the tone of my mother's.  Depression overtook me and I barely spoke, sometimes I barely ate. 

            That was when my parents became worried about me.  I was becoming frail and weak so they asked my brother to come and visit.  When I learned of this, I was overjoyed.  I began smiling more, whistling while I worked.  Mother was just so glad that I had come back from the dead, she didn't bother shushing me. 

            Then finally the day came that Rafi was to visit.  One hour before his visit, I was working on the meal that we were preparing for the special occasion.  My brother was arriving today!  Then there was a knock on the door.  I was startled, because I had not expected them to be so early, but I wiped my hands on my apron and walked calmly towards the door, beaming.  Mother walked up behind me as we reached the door.

            "My married man is here!"  Mother whispered excitedly.  She was so proud of him.  I wished with all of my being that she would feel like this when I came to visit after I was married, but I highly doubted it.

            I reached forward and threw open the front door expecting an embrace from my long lost brother but my grinning face was only greeted by a little boy about the age of nine looking at me like I was insane.

            "Hello, I'm Mica's brother."

            Disappointment and anger surged inside of me because I knew what he would say next.

            "Mica and Rafi cannot come today.  Mother has fallen even more ill.  They are sorry for the inconvenience."  With that, the child raced away, unwilling to see our reactions or be asked further questions.

            I ran to my room, lifting my skirt as I climbed the stairs, sobs escaping my throat as I ran, tears running down my cheeks.  How could he?  How could Rafi be so cruel?!  We are his true family, not that sick old hag that is keeping him away from me.

            I lay down on my bed rocking myself back and forth, back and forth, crying.  Then, after a short knock, Mother entered my room.  On a normal occasion I would have sat up and wiped away my tears, trying to look strong, but not today.  I just kept crying and rocking.  On a normal day, my mother would have told me that I was being such a child, that I should grow up, but surprisingly she didn't, this time.  She lifted my head off the pillow and rested it against her chest, hugging me, and comforting me.  I did not object.  Then I remembered how Rafi, the comforter, had done this for me, also, when I had found out he was leaving which only made me cry harder. 

            "I want my brother!"  I cried.  Mother just rocked me tenderly, murmuring soothing words into my ear.  Eventually I calmed down enough to sit myself up and turn the sobs into soft, but still pitiful sniffles.  Then I wiped the last tear from my eye, which I swore would be the last one I would shed on this matter.

            "I'm sorry," I told my mother.

            "It's alright."  Then I looked deep into her eyes and saw that pain that she was feeling, the same that I was.  While I had been crying and thinking about how horrible Rafi was being to me, I hadn't realized what pain this was causing my mother.  I remember the look of joy on her face when we were getting ready to open the door.  Her son was coming home for the first time in almost a year and she was just as excited as I was.  But then she too was crushed by his absence.

            She sighed and then stood up.  "I'm going to go finish supper."

            I watched in silence as she left my room.  I knew I should go and help her, but I couldn't bring myself to get to my feet.  So, I stayed in my room.

            When the time came for our evening meal, that I had barely helped prepare, I walked slowly down the stairs and sat at my seat, watching my mother place the food on the table just as Father was getting home.  We all sat down and began to eat.  Mother and I didn't really make eye contact while Father kept looking at us.  Finally he said,

            "Alright, what is going on?"

            My mother and I both sighed in unison.

            "Rafi was supposed to come and visit today," Mother said quietly.

            "Was he now?  Why didn't he come?"

            "Mica's mother has just become even more infected with her disease."  I answered.

            "Oh, that's too bad," My father said, clearly missing what it meant to my mother and I.  We finished the meal with Father trying to make small talk and failing miserably.  Then finally he resigned to the living room to do his reading.  I helped mother clear the dishes away, and instead of going with Father to the living room as usual, we both climbed the stairs together and went into our rooms.