Across So Many Seas: Chapters 20-26

He gives me a stern look and waits for my reply.

It’s muggy inside with all the windows and curtains closed to keep out the sun, and I start to feel faint.

“But my father is old-fashioned. He’s already starting to worry about our prospects for marriage! But hopefully things are changing. Look at how our new president wants girls to get good educations too. Wants them to be free to become anything they want!”

“Reina, I agree education is important for girls too. But I don’t think our president understands how religious people think. You know my mother wears a headscarf because she is Muslim—but she likes wearing it when she’s out. I don’t want her to feel ashamed to wear it just because he thinks we are too modern for that.”

“Reina, please come tonight. The sky will be lit up, and it will be different from any other night. It’ll be historic! Tell your father you shouldn’t miss it and I will watch over you.”

Sadik’s comment about watching over me has really irked me.

I’ve never done anything so willful.

I dare to let myself feel happy that I get to witness this.

Sadik quickly sizes up the situation too.

We’re panting as we climb to the top of the hill, above the Marmara.

I fall asleep, remembering the night sky streaked with the gorgeous light from the fireworks, and how the sea waves seemed to accompany me as I sang and played Mima’s oud.

His face is streaked with tears, his hair tousled, and he has on the same clothes he wore last night.

“You concentrate on your books, hijica.”

She turns away, and I slip out into the courtyard hesitantly, not sure if Sadik will be there and if he’ll tell me why he was so disheveled in the morning.

He has such an earnest look on his face.

Mima has also made baklava for dessert, and it’s soaking up the sugary syrup she has poured over the flaky layers of pastry and walnuts.

He looks at me with disgust, and I know I am in trouble.

I can’t believe I am hearing such harsh words from my own father!

So it is Mima who relays the news that Papa is sending me away to Cuba with Tía Zimbul.

Papa has agreed to marry me off to a distant cousin who fled to Cuba years ago so he could escape fighting in the War of Independence.

“Not fast enough. Your reputation is tarnished here, and no one forgets anything. This could also harm the reputation of your sisters, so it’s best if you go to Cuba. I’m sorry, Reina.”

I have so many questions as I reel from what Mima’s telling me.

Reina, my eldest daughter, you are so precious and such a help to me. I don’t know what I will do without you. But I take consolation in knowing you can take care of yourself.

Mima and I take turns playing the song on the oud, passing it back and forth to each other, and we cry for the sister who has been ruined and banished to a tower by her father, that sister who is me.

I need those things too, but I am resigned to not having them while I wait to leave for Cuba.