The World On The Sea Turtle’s Back

Laila Elkabany

My shaky hand dropped the pen, leaving a blue scar on my light gray shirt. I walked to the kitchen door to open for Anubis after he barked for 6 minutes. I hated how I gave him a stern look for being annoying. I took a deep breath. I had insisted on having a good mood today. I tried to start the day with a smile, but I felt my chest sigh when I realized that the sun wasn’t out this morning. I could guess that from the shy light that barely penetrated my blinds. I gazed for a while at the teal green wall against my favorite sofa, then I looked back to my pen. I kept telling myself that I had promised Fouad not to think about what had happened at work the other day. Although he was my psychiatrist, we developed a strong friendship. I have known him for nine years. I remember that the first 3 months I had a big argument with him because he couldn’t do anything about the nightmares I used to get at the beginning of my pregnancy. Now he was the person I trust most; he told me I shouldn’t be thinking about that Friday.

I took Anubis’ snack bag. While I started feeding him, my phone rang. I smirked as I saw the caller’s name. Ali. Yup, here is another trap I put myself in.

“Hi, Ali.”

I smile as he tells me that he misses me. But I don’t answer. Things have changed since he traveled 10 years ago. I’m married now.

“I’m sorry, Ali.I won’t be there.”

He suddenly stopped talking, which made me more nervous, but I knew I had to continue.

“I know. I know what you wanna say. Believe me it’s as hard for me to hear it as it’s for you to hide it. I need to go. I’m sorry. Talk to you later.”

*****

I spent the rest of the day thinking about Ali. Even writing wasn’t as easy as I expected for a character that pushed herself into the novel like Jammal.

The next morning, I was trying to find my way to the successful housewife version of me and prepare a good breakfast, when Khalid walked in to the kitchen and hugged me.

“Good morning.”

“Are you working on a new thing, or is it the same novel? I think I saw 2 more names on your bulletin board,”he asked.

I was spreading cheese over the wheat toast.

“I added 2 characters to the novel.”

“I like the girl. Was her name Yara? ”

“Yes, Yara. What do you think of her?” I asked him as I poured the coffee. I gave him my yellow mug instead of his blue one. Pretending that I didn’t realize, I sipped from his blue cup.

He took the yellow cup with a smirk and put it down. He put out the cigarette then looked at me.

“There is something I don’t understand about Yara. Why is she rebellious? I mean her life is quite stable. You even have a scene when her crush is flirting with her. Where does her ire come from?.. Why?” he asked with a sense of confusion, paying more attention than usual to my writing.

“Because we are humans, we tend to look for what we are missing, not what we have.”

He looked into my eyes. It annoyed me when he acted like an observer whenever I said something that was not convincing for him. But I decided to be an observer too this morning. I kept looking at his eyes as well. He raised one eyebrow and smiled. He looked at my face, and then he glanced at the sky through the glass window behind me. I grinned at him as he unexpectedly leaned closer to kiss me. “I’m late, gotta go, good luck with writing,” he said after he took his blue mug from my hand and sipped from it before walking away.

******

It was an ideal time to start cooking Maya’s favorite meal. Maya is lively, very specific about what she wants, which I found fascinating for an eight year old girl. For me Maya’s presence adjusts my whole life. I look at how she moves her body in cheer while eating salmon as there is a rhythm only she can hear; and I can take on anything from a higher perspective, undefeatable or careless about the consequences. Maya made me discover that emotions can be tamed. That’s what I’ve been trying to do for 2 weeks now since that Friday. However, this time nothing seems to be enough, even the work-free days between kitchen and writing.

When she finally arrived, I was able to laugh truthfully as I hugged her then unbraided her hair while I listened to the story of the movie she had watched in class today. As she was almost finishing her plate, I called on her nanny to sit her. I also told her to make sure she did all her homework. I hugged Maya and went to get ready for my appointment with Fouad.

Fouad’s office was always full of nostalgic vibes. Anyone entering this place for the first time would feel like they had entered a time gap returning them to the 60s. There were no screens anywhere, which was unusual but calming. Instead, there were photographs from the 50s/ 60s of downtown as well as some other well-known places here in Cairo. There was also a shining gramophone, as if it was just bought yesterday. This was my favorite spot to stare until it was my turn.

When I had a session I was always the last “patient” on his work-day. I didn’t wait too long today. It was only 15 minutes before the previous patient came out that I entered the session room, hugged Fouad, then sat on my favorite pistachio colored chair. The conversation was normal. I laughed when Fouad told me about his wife and his teenage daughter’s argument.

“Both are sharp, let them bargain, but stay neutral if you don’t wanna sleep on the couch for the rest of the month,” I said.

“You’re right,” he said while folding his arms. “Now tell me, did you decide when you’re planning to return to work?”

I shake my head (no).

“No problem. Take your time. But please don’t overthink. The break is to calm down, not to panic. I know how crazy that conversation with the client was but don’t let that shake you. It’s a coincidence,” he said.

He quickly reversed what he had said as I looked at him. “Or let’s deal with it from that perspective.”

Where is your husband?” Fouad asked.

“Well, he is here, maybe a little busy, and…we kissed yesterday.” I laughed

“Oh, really? Ain’t u guys usually kissing? I mean that’s something here.” He laughed while trying to pick up his notebook.

“Hey, put this down. I mean it was a different kiss.”

“Define different. Good? Bad?” he asked.

“It wasn’t cold, but it was usual, like your room, which you know each and every corner of. But sometimes you need to get out,” I said trying to put my feelings into the correct words.

“And Ali is the adrenaline you’re looking for? A new adventure to break the routine?” Foad asked while he gazed at me. I don’t know if I’m more comfortable because he could understand what I couldn’t say or nervous that he might see something I would rather not reveal.

“There is something about Ali’s soul that’s very truthful for me. His presence is peaceful, like a glass of water, its temperature perfectly tuned. It isn’t a mind-matter; he keeps looking at me with loving eyes.”

“So does Khaled,” said Fouad.

I wasn’t expecting this last sentence from Fouad. I looked at him in confusion. He resumed.

“I was okay with you making eye contact with a stranger in the subway and going along with a man in his early 20s who flirted with you. I can understand the fact that you wanna go out doing wild things that you never used to just to gain back your interest. Except that Ali is different; he isn’t taking you anywhere out, Nina! You are not playing here; you’re loving. The timing of his return too is encouraging, sort of an emotional reaction about everything you are going through currently. As a friend, I would advise you to think again about your feelings toward Ali. Until you do that, don’t rock the boat. You don’t need all the questions you’re raising in Khalid’s mind.”

After a moment of silence I was looking at the yellow wall that held the newest mosaic painting Fouad had bought, a blue sea turtle.

” Beautiful, isn’t it? I told Gigi that this painting is different, it holds a spiritual meaning that affects a person’s ability to…”

I interrupted him. “Fouad…Fouad, I was thinking about something else. I didn’t even realize the painting until now, okay. In addition, Gigi told me about the silly price you paid for this painting. Anyway, I’m hungry. I wanna eat pizza.”

“Pizza? Really? ”

I nodded. “Pizza.”

When Fouad walked to his secretary to tell her to make the food order, I looked again at the sea turtle. In this second glance, I got a very strange feeling. It had miserable eyes. Her arms opened trying to swim higher, but for a second you could feel that she carried the sea, the sun, and the whole world on her back.

After we ate, I drove back home. As I opened the apartment door, I found Khaled starting to make a cup of tea. I put my purse on top of the counter. I took the kettle from his hand. ” Here, let me do it for you.”

He smiled at me while leaning against the wall next to me.

“How was your day?”

“Good, nothing important.”

“Nina, let’s travel to AlFayoum for a week or 10 days. You didn’t do anything interesting during your break, and I think I need some time off too,” he said.

I gave him the cup then kissed him on the cheek. “Good idea, but can we do that next month?”

“Why?”

I knew I needed time to decide many things that I couldn’t discuss because he would offer solutions that wouldn’t fit my way of looking at things, as usual. In addition, it wouldn’t be my opinion, my effort, it wouldn’t be me. I wish he could understand that.

“I still have something to work on and submit.” I lied

“Well, next month then!” he said while laughing, and he pulled me toward him. That night I thought about the turtle. Why can’t she stop resisting and go with the flow? Why can’t she let herself drown? I closed my eyes and wished my thoughts could be lost, or that I could drown.

********

The sun was bright, yet it was a very cold day. I sat next to the glass wall in a cafe that was quiet compared to the rest of the city. There were only 3 tables occupied in this place. I spent a fair amount of time observing the occupants while I waited for my coffee. At the other end there was a college student who seemed very focused on what she was doing. The table with a mother and her son, who was around 9 or 10 years old, struggling to get the right amount of noodles rolled on his fork, while his mother seemed to be distracted with her phone. At the third table sat an old man sipping his coffee and slowly reading a book. I waited 20 minutes for him to turn the page before I lost my hope and turned my attention to something else.

I saw him coming through the glass wall, the cafe on the first floor, which gave me a good chance to look at him while he wasn’t close enough to see me. He was wearing a cream-colored pull-over and a navy blue wool coat. His hair was the blackest I have ever seen. He had not changed since the last time we met. His steps were fast, although he was not late. He entered, took his shades off, and then his eyes started to wander until he saw me.

“Here you are, finally,” he said smiling, as he took a seat at my table.

I smiled back. “Yes, first of all. I wanna apologize for not answering your calls for the past few weeks.”

“Didn’t you already, over the phone? How many times are you gonna apologize? You’re fine! So how are you doing now? You told me that there is something you need to decide regarding your work.”

A waitress interrupted, asking what he would like. He smiled at her. “Double espresso, please…or do u know what, make it 2 lattes with only 1 pump of mocha.”

He looked at me. “Gonna try your fav today.”

His eyes were salaam-full. Although I thought time had helped me drain all the love I had for him, seeing his eyes now tickled my heart somehow.

He directed his full attention to me once again once the waitress left. “So, you reached a decision?”

“I had to gain back my balance, I guess.” I smiled slightly, raising my eyebrows, as I knew what I was about to say.

“Gaining back your balance…” He glanced to nowhere for a couple of seconds then looked into my eyes. “You don’t want us to meet again, do you ?” he asked.

I didn’t know what to say.

He smiled. “Come on, no need to be embarrassed. I knew it. I mean that’s kinda fair, I get it.” He leaned back against his chair.

The waitress came and put the ice lattes down.

“Thank you,”he said to her before he sipped from his cup. “Oh that isn’t bad actually, I’m glad it isn’t that sweet. The mocha is very delicious, very tempting, then …vanishes in a glance.”

“Glad you like it.”

He broke a long moment of silence. “What you wanna say?”

I took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you what happened that Friday at work. I talked to a client who told me crazy things about war and weapons.”

“Which war?” he asked.

“The Iraqi war. The client is a retired general who served in the war. He talked in detail about the site he was in charge of being attacked. He told me that he literally killed innocent people to take their oil.”

“And what did you do?” he asked.

“At the beginning, I thought he was a lunatic or drunk. I advised him to try to seek help. He smirked as he said that he does see somebody. He proved what he said, I mean he named many weapons and warplanes.” I could hear my voice becoming more vulnerable, but I needed to keep talking to get it out of my mind. I felt shocked. I mean, what I could have told him? I felt that part of me wanted to say something harmful to him. He was already unstable emotionally. I felt anger spurting into my vines, but I couldn’t.

I didn’t feel my hand start shaking until Ali held it tightly. Then he realized that he was squeezing my hand. He lightened his clutches. However, everything was still tangible and too strange to be forgotten. I felt I had no desire to cry any longer. Instead I looked at his hand then to his eyes. He softly tapped on my hand.

“Continue!” he said

“The weird part is that 2 years ago I wrote about a weapon dealer character. I wanted to challenge myself, so I made him as bold as I could. When this client was talking with me, I felt that I was talking to that character I wrote. Same sarcasm in his answers. Same clearness, precision and … shocking. There was chaos inside me. This question I had been asking forever about these soldiers’ consciousness, of the side they were fighting for. This man’s regret…my intense anger toward him. Why me? I know I was wondering about this question, but why I felt like this man wanted to give me that answer, I mean I felt he was seeing through me. After he said that he looked confused. He started to apologize and talked nicely, which wasn’t the way he started the conversation.”

“Was he rude?”

“More impatient, and thick skin like a mean old man, except he wasn’t that old; he was in his mid 50’s.”

“And your character is the same age?”

I raised my shoulders and blinked.

“I see.” Ali scratched his beard with a fingertip.

“Did he know that you’re an Arab? I mean yes we are Egyptians, neither Iraqi nor kuwaiti, but still he would assume that you would have more empathy toward other Arabs.”

I nodded. “That’s exactly when he started to be nice with me. He said that he never killed any Egyptians…”

Ali sighed in irony.

“He apologized for talking about the war. He wished me a good future. He said that I’m good at my work and not to let anything stop me.”

“How did you answer him?”

“I told him that this is the first time I didn’t wanna be kind to someone. He said, ‘Well I understand, sorry for ruining your day, goodbye.’ He was miserable.”

“Like Fouad’s sea turtle?” Ali asked

“I can’t believe I dragged you through this emotional roller coaster. Moreover, I called you to talk about a sea turtle painting the next day, and I talked to you meanly.”

“Don’t worry about that. Now what will you do about this crazy chat with the General Sea Turtle?”

“Nothing, I’m trying to forget, I already sent my resignation note.”

“Resign!” he snickered. “That’s a severe decision for anyone with such a remarkable job title. But you know what, that’s very you, so go free spirit.” He said that last sentence in a louder tone, which made me laugh.

“Ignoring that is a problem though. I think if there is a reason for that craziness, it would be writing it. You said you felt that he wanted to give you an answer, well you have it, give it to others. It isn’t your burden to carry Nina. It’s the war-creators. They are the turtles, not you, but all you can do is to write and scream to awaken their souls before they are trapped in guilt forever.”

I felt like I was breathing for the first time since that Friday. “I think you’re right. I shouldn’t prohibit myself from writing about it, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, we have been sitting here for hours. Isn’t that too long for a goodbye meeting, ma’am?” he said with his usual teasing tone

We snicker.

I looked to the sky through the window, then I looked back to his eyes. ” I’m grateful you’re here. What we both felt was genuine and naming it won’t matter. What matters now is I owe you so much. I will always be here. I don’t have to give up on you.”

His voice was full of kindness. “Do you really think you needed to say that in order for me to know it? How long have I known you? 30 years? I mean do you remember what your favorite dress color was when you were 7? I remember, Nina. I wasn’t going to give up on you, but I think I too need to regain my balance. Till then, enjoy quiet days free of my annoying calls.”

I nodded and stood up after stuffing my phone into my purse. We walked through the café exit.

“Take care, Nina,” he said, softly touching my arm.

I hugged him, hearing him laugh. He gently laid his arm on my back, while I rested my forehead on his chest. It was a tender minute before I pulled myself slowly from him.

We both grinned in a cheer.

I walked away, enjoying the cold for the first time, knowing that I could return to a salaam-full zone in my friend’s heart whenever I needed to. And ever since then, I have walked lightly as I turned my face away from darkness. I still enjoy the sweet sunny days; I’m obsessed by the warmth the sun lays on my bare shoulders and how it cuddles my hair roots…But I will never carry it on my back again.

******

Laila Elkbanay is a political science major and creative writing minor.