In His Arms

My stomach dropped, and I shifted uncomfortably in the seat. The airplane lifted, slowing down then speeding up. I winced when my ears popped painfully.

Now we were in the air, so I relaxed, chewing at the gum that had done little to help me, and put in my earphones. I propped my phone up against the pull-out table and clicked open my downloaded episodes. I planned to binge-watch the whole 4-and-a-half hour flight to Alabama.

Beside me, Imran, my older brother, rested his head against the seat, ready to fall asleep already. I rolled my eyes, because this was so like him. He'd always been able to fall asleep anywhere at anytime.

A little ahead of us, Abu, my father, sat next to my step-mother, who I called Mum, and beside them, Ahmad, my other brother.

I curled up in my seat, pulling myself into a knot so tight you would have thought I was a contortionist.

***

The flight felt much longer than it was, but finally, we landed, and stepped out of the airport.

After the crazy amount of security and the very long line in the airport back in Toronto, where we lived, the security here felt like a vacation.

"I'd take that flight and stand in that line again for this weather," Ahmad said, grinning.

I nodded in agreement, smiling up at the clear sky. It was February, and Toronto was like a freezer. Alabama was not hot, definitely not like summer, but it was still significantly warmer than Toronto. The change was very pleasant.

"There they are," Abu gestured to a minivan approaching us.

We would be staying with a friend of Abu's from university. I'd met them before, or so I'd been told, but I could hardly remember them, because it had been years.

The van stopped, and out climbed a smiling lady and man. We walked towards them, separating so we could hug whoever we needed to. I followed Mum's lead, because I still had no real idea of what to do in social situations, even though I was 22.

"As salaamu alaikum!" the lady hugged first Mum, then me.

"Wa alaikum us salaam! How are you, Rabia?"

I registered the name with the lady's face, adding an 'aunty' to the beginning.

There was a flurry of questions about the flight and our health that I let Mum answer, focusing on getting my pull-on into the car.

Abu had insisted that we fit all our clothes into pull-ons so that we could avoid paying for suitcases. The idea wasn't actually that unreasonable, we'd only be staying here for 3 days, 4 nights, but it considering the over-packing of most of this family, it was rather unrealistic.

We'd ended up taking a single suitcase and stuffing the rest of our belongings into our hand luggage.

"So, Amaya," Aunty Rabia said to me, "How is university?"

"It's good, alhamdulillah," I answered, smiling as sweetly as I could without motivation.

"What are you studying?"

"Medicine," I said, smiling again and trying to find a way to ask her something.

"MashaAllah."

Luckily, Mum started talking to her, allowing me the freedom to look away and stare out at the new landscape through the window.

It was actually green, which was a sharp contrast to the snow-covered trees in Toronto.

When we arrived at their house, which wasn't very far, I followed the ladies inside, since we were apparently leaving the bags for the boys to take car of. We went inside, and Aunty Rabia shouted out a salaam.

The stairs pounded, and there were footsteps from the kitchen.

Two young girls came running down the stairs, excited balls of energy.

"As salaamu alaikum!" they chorused.

From the kitchen, two boys walked in.

The first was a brown-haired, hazel-eyed boy with an easy, humourous face. He was smiling brightly, shallow dimples in his cheeks.

The second was smiling only slightly, and he had black hair and a tight jaw, like it was clenched at all times. His lips were a vibrant shade of red and he was well-built, not bulky, but lean and strong. I met his eyes for only a split second, because the sight of his eyes, unlike his brother's, was intense and intimidating. The look there made me feel like he could see things he shouldn't be able to.

"As salaamu alaikum," he said in a smooth, deep voice, looking at me.