Chapter 5 5

Malika.

The driver was obviously just an old, poor guy. He looked at me with sadness and regret. "I'm sorry, young lady. I can't help you."

With a mocking smile, Mazen raised his voice at me, "Told you-you can't run from me."

He pulled out some money and started handing it to the driver. The driver glared at Mazen in disgust. "I may not be a match for you, and I don't want trouble, but I'm a good man and I have honor." I didn't really understand the driver, but I could tell he was trying to stall Mazen.

Mazen just raised an eyebrow. "I don't get it."

Suddenly, the driver shook his head and shouted, "Run, girl! Take the metro from the next street over!"

I threw open the door and ran as fast as I could. I'd never taken the metro before, but at least I'd escaped. But I'd forgotten something important-when I got there, I realized I needed to buy a ticket, and all my money was in the suitcase Mazen had taken from me. I just sat down on the curb and cried my heart out. "God, my parents are gone, I have no money, and I don't even have a phone to call Uncle Salah for help." I put my hands over my face and cried until I felt the hand of an old woman selling radishes and lettuce on my shoulder. She smiled gently and patted me. "There's still good in the world, my dear."

I wiped my tears, barely able to breathe. Turns out she'd heard me. She pulled a little bag out of her blouse with a few pounds and an old, cracked phone, and handed them to me. I was shocked. She said, "The phone is old, but it's got five pounds of credit and can make calls. Call someone to come help you. And here's a little money-it should help you get where you need to go..."

I interrupted her, "I want to go to Alexandria, to Uncle Salah."

I had no idea how I'd get there or if those few pounds were enough for a train ticket.

She smiled at me, wiped my tears, and even though her hands were covered in dirt, I wasn't grossed out. I actually felt comfortable and so happy to be around her.

Suddenly, she called out to all the other vendors around the metro. "Hey, everyone, come here!"

All these poor but honest people gathered around; none of them were thieves or beggars. She told them, "Everyone, give her whatever money you can spare, and someone go get Uncle Sabry the taxi driver to take her to the train station and help her get a ticket to Alexandria. Hurry!"

At that moment, I really felt the value of all the kindness my dad, God rest his soul, used to show people. He was always donating and helping the poor every month. Once, I asked him why, and he said, "One day you'll understand-God will send people to help you when you need it." From then on, I started giving from my own allowance to anyone in need, just like Dad did. He was my role model.

The old lady handed me a packet of tissues. "Don't cry, dear. Just like God put me in your path, He'll send more people to stand by your side."

I hugged her and decided to be strong. This must be the path God wrote for me, and I needed to walk it.

"I don't even know what to say. You're all so kind. I promise I'll come back and repay you for all this money-just pray for me." And I truly meant it.

The taxi driver came over to the old lady, kissed her hand, and said, "What's up, our blessing?"

The old lady, with so much tenderness and class, said, "Please, son, take her to the train and help her get a ticket to Alexandria. The girl's an orphan."

"Yes, ma'am." He spoke to her with such respect, even though, as it turned out, he wasn't just a taxi driver! He was a dignified man with a brand new Hyundai Elantra working for Uber! He was clearly educated.

I looked at them with pride-they were so good-hearted. I suddenly felt like they were my family, even though I didn't know any of them.

But suddenly, Mazen showed up. In that terrifying voice, he yelled, "You're not going anywhere! You hear me? Get in the car, or else..."

He didn't get to finish. All the vendors stood in front of him, blocking his way. "You're not getting her from us. Over our dead bodies!"

Mazen hesitated for a second, but then started coming closer. One guy grabbed a stick and stood in his way. "Take one more step, and I'll break your legs." He was threatening Mazen, but honestly, Mazen didn't even flinch. Mazen just curled his lip and started threatening back, "If you don't get out of my way right now, I'll have all of you arrested."

That's when I truly understood what it meant to have good people from your neighborhood stand up for you. I'd heard about it before, but now I saw it with my own eyes-these men surrounding Mazen.

The old woman patted my shoulder. "Quick, get in the taxi. Don't be scared-he won't be able to catch you."

As I moved, she asked, "But who is he? What does he want?"

"He wants to force me to marry him. He's my cousin."

She looked at me and said something that stopped me in my tracks. "May God protect you, dear. Your cousin is better than a stranger."

I swallowed nervously and turned my head. "But he wants to force me to marry him, and he hits me and..."

She cut me off-I was already starting to stutter, "He'll change with kindness. A stranger will never take care of you. Go with him, dear."

"But..." My hands started to sweat as I thought about what she said. I remembered that Hoda, my friend and Uncle Salah's daughter, had three brothers-what if one of them tried to mess with me or play with my feelings? Or what if Uncle Salah refused to let me stay or take care of me? And I remembered he was just an employee at an insurance company, so I'd be a burden on them-especially since I wanted to go to college.

I opened my hand and handed the old lady the phone and the money, thanking her, "I'll never forget what you did for me. I'll come back, God willing." I hugged her and walked away, hesitating, but she was right-better to deal with my cousin in my own home than end up homeless in the street.

The old lady waved for them to clear a path. I walked up to Mazen, looked him straight in the eye, and said softly, embarrassed, "Will you accept to marry me?"