love)
Me sente en un tronco (I sat upon a tree trunk) A verla pasar. (To see her pass by) Y como no pasaba (When she did not pass) Me eche a llorar. (I burst into tears)
Afterwards, she whispered, “I don’t suppose you want to be here anymore than I did when I first came. Go to sleep now.”
A few hours later, Victoria tiptoed into the living room, expecting to find her guest fast asleep. To her surprise, the couch was empty, the patio door flung open. Khara stood at the railing, her black hair shining and dancing in the morning breeze. To Victoria’s sleepy eyes, it appeared that she had caught the rising sun, balancing the giant disk perfectly between her outstretched arms. She seemed to be praying or perhaps singing, given the rhythm of her words.
She had become a voyeur in her own home. Unable to turn away, Victoria watched Khara’s graceful hands coax the sun higher into the sky. Soon she finished and descended to her knees, allowing Victoria to slink into the kitchen and make coffee.
Next, she rummaged through her dresser. Victoria was five, maybe six inches taller than her guest, and it applied all the way around. Pulling out a black cashmere crewneck the dry cleaners had shrunk at least two sizes, she laid it on the bed.
When she looked up, Khara stood silently in the doorway. Victoria beckoned her in and held the sweater up to her slim shoulders; it looked as though it would work. In the back of her closet she found a knee-length paisley skirt of soft grays with splashes of violet and magenta and an elastic waist. Khara examined the fabric’s soft drape and outlined the teardrop shapes of the paisley with the tips of her fingers.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Victoria said as she handed her the sweater, “but were you praying?”
Khara nodded. “It is my responsibility. Now more than ever.” The loveliness of her face was momentarily distorted with pain. “Surely you feel some obligation to pray.”
“My days of asking for things that can never be are over.”
“Perhaps you ask too much,” she answered matter-of-factly, or pledge too little in return. I admire your conviction, however. Perhaps if such a choice had been mine…”
“What do you mean?” Victoria demanded.” Everyone should be free to make their own religious choices,” she concluded, cheeks flushed at her perception of injustice.
“You cannot possibly understand. It falls on me to assure the comfort, strength, and majesty of all that is Egypt.”
“Is that all?” Victoria had to smile. “Well, at least your prayers have a fighting chance. Now go change; you can’t keep wearing that torn-up rag. Try those on while I scrounge up something for breakfast.”
With the exception of her sandaled feet, the young woman who returned bore little resemblance to the dazed refugee left at Victoria’s office the day before.
“Wow. I hardly recognize you.”
Khara smiled shyly. “Such beautifully made garments. They are as light as air, and yet warm.”
“I hope you’re feeling better this morning,” Victoria said in her most charming voice, the one she used to pry information from unwilling witnesses.
“I do, though nothing has changed.” Khara’s eyes swept the room. “The advances here are undeniable.” She pointed to the refrigerator and stove, at the television, even at the window.
“All these things make me afraid for Egypt.”
“But that’s silly. Your country is on very good terms with the United States.”
Khara’s eyes narrowed. “If what you say is true, that knowledge would rest with me.”
Victoria eyed her dubiously. “Still an Egyptian princess after a good night’s sleep?”
“And you are still unconvinced.”
“Call me a skeptic. Fortunately, the means to clear this matter up is only a short drive away.”
“Then let us not delay.”
“It would be better if we went tomorrow.”
“A pity, since you have as much as called me a liar. Nevertheless, it shall be as you
Me sente en un tronco (I sat upon a tree trunk) A verla pasar. (To see her pass by) Y como no pasaba (When she did not pass) Me eche a llorar. (I burst into tears)
Afterwards, she whispered, “I don’t suppose you want to be here anymore than I did when I first came. Go to sleep now.”
A few hours later, Victoria tiptoed into the living room, expecting to find her guest fast asleep. To her surprise, the couch was empty, the patio door flung open. Khara stood at the railing, her black hair shining and dancing in the morning breeze. To Victoria’s sleepy eyes, it appeared that she had caught the rising sun, balancing the giant disk perfectly between her outstretched arms. She seemed to be praying or perhaps singing, given the rhythm of her words.
She had become a voyeur in her own home. Unable to turn away, Victoria watched Khara’s graceful hands coax the sun higher into the sky. Soon she finished and descended to her knees, allowing Victoria to slink into the kitchen and make coffee.
Next, she rummaged through her dresser. Victoria was five, maybe six inches taller than her guest, and it applied all the way around. Pulling out a black cashmere crewneck the dry cleaners had shrunk at least two sizes, she laid it on the bed.
When she looked up, Khara stood silently in the doorway. Victoria beckoned her in and held the sweater up to her slim shoulders; it looked as though it would work. In the back of her closet she found a knee-length paisley skirt of soft grays with splashes of violet and magenta and an elastic waist. Khara examined the fabric’s soft drape and outlined the teardrop shapes of the paisley with the tips of her fingers.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Victoria said as she handed her the sweater, “but were you praying?”
Khara nodded. “It is my responsibility. Now more than ever.” The loveliness of her face was momentarily distorted with pain. “Surely you feel some obligation to pray.”
“My days of asking for things that can never be are over.”
“Perhaps you ask too much,” she answered matter-of-factly, or pledge too little in return. I admire your conviction, however. Perhaps if such a choice had been mine…”
“What do you mean?” Victoria demanded.” Everyone should be free to make their own religious choices,” she concluded, cheeks flushed at her perception of injustice.
“You cannot possibly understand. It falls on me to assure the comfort, strength, and majesty of all that is Egypt.”
“Is that all?” Victoria had to smile. “Well, at least your prayers have a fighting chance. Now go change; you can’t keep wearing that torn-up rag. Try those on while I scrounge up something for breakfast.”
With the exception of her sandaled feet, the young woman who returned bore little resemblance to the dazed refugee left at Victoria’s office the day before.
“Wow. I hardly recognize you.”
Khara smiled shyly. “Such beautifully made garments. They are as light as air, and yet warm.”
“I hope you’re feeling better this morning,” Victoria said in her most charming voice, the one she used to pry information from unwilling witnesses.
“I do, though nothing has changed.” Khara’s eyes swept the room. “The advances here are undeniable.” She pointed to the refrigerator and stove, at the television, even at the window.
“All these things make me afraid for Egypt.”
“But that’s silly. Your country is on very good terms with the United States.”
Khara’s eyes narrowed. “If what you say is true, that knowledge would rest with me.”
Victoria eyed her dubiously. “Still an Egyptian princess after a good night’s sleep?”
“And you are still unconvinced.”
“Call me a skeptic. Fortunately, the means to clear this matter up is only a short drive away.”
“Then let us not delay.”
“It would be better if we went tomorrow.”
“A pity, since you have as much as called me a liar. Nevertheless, it shall be as you
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