Where is Manar?
Book One: The Twin Star
Chapter 9: The Detective Cat
—
Then the rope entered her chest, and she lowered to the ground.
At the same moment, all over the world, people raised their heads toward the sky without knowing why. The world went dark. An eclipse no one had predicted. No one had announced. It just happened.
In Britain, a girl turned to her boyfriend. "George, did you hear about the eclipse today?"
"No. The weather service probably fell asleep."
In China, Song didn't lift his head from his screen. "Deadline's coming up. Damn the eclipse."
In some snow-covered place, a young man stopped and looked at the sky. His dog barked.
"I know, Clinton." Then he continued on his way.
Everywhere on Earth, people raised their heads for a moment, then went back to what they were doing.
But not everyone.
—
[China - Shanghai]
A man sat on a polished precious stone, in a room where a stream of water flowed. On the wall hung a scroll with a single word: Heaven.
He opened his eyes.
"So they're twin stars. Not just one this time." His voice traveled to a distant, dark place, and a reply came from the same space.
"Old man, did luck favor you? Do you know them?"
"The path is blocked. It's impossible."
Silence.
A young man entered and waited.
"No one moves. We'll wait."
The young man bowed and left.
—
[Egypt - Alexandria]
A man carried a bag of food. Knocked on random doors. Left some of what was in the bag at each door and walked away before anyone opened it. Nothing special about his features. You'd pass him without noticing.
He looked at the sky.
"I hope they're good people."
—
[Iraq - Basra]
In an old, nearly empty mosque, a man finished his prayer. He raised his head to the sky and smiled.
"I hope we can be brothers."
Then he returned to prostration.
From all over the world, entities and people watched and wondered: Which side will the twin stars choose?
—
Sami lowered to the ground slowly.
The man reached his hand toward his chest again, but the cane made a sharp sound.
He stopped.
He turned to the corner of the room that no one else could see, and said quietly:
"You came early, my friend." He smiled a smile that didn't mean welcome.
"Tsk." He looked at Sami one last time, then struck the cane on the ground.
He vanished like a mirage.
A moment later. The birds went silent. The insects stopped. Everything with a voice in the area went quiet.
A feeling with no name descended on the people. A chill with no reason. Fear with no source. The feeling you get when you suddenly realize you're not the highest thing in the room.
It lasted one moment, then disappeared.
The birds returned. The insects returned. People thought they'd imagined it.
—
In the salon, Sami lifted his head. "Guys, did you see where the man who asked for water went?"
The customers looked at him strangely. "Huh? What's going on?"
I looked around. The door, the mirror, the chairs — everything in its place.
"Where did he go... There was someone asking for..."
What was he asking for?
"Guys, did you see where the man by the door went?"
"What are you talking about? Come on, finish my haircut. I'm going to be late." Jaafar looked at me like I was mentally questionable.
"He was here... I swear I was holding something to give to someone. Where did he disappear?"
"Huh... Why do I have this water bottle in my hand? Last thing I remember... I don't remember anything. Damn. Looks like that crazy bus driver was right. It's the Masons."
"Sami, did you take something?"
"No, man. I think I'm just exhausted today." I changed the subject before they convinced me I was crazy. Went back to work.
—
On the TV screen hanging in the corner of the shop, the team we were supposed to support lost. We celebrated anyway — me and the guys. Who cares who kicked the ball in a world that's already kicked around?
The guys talked in their usual noise about the latest news, competing to show off how much crap they'd absorbed. I listened with one ear coldly, letting their words escape with the wind. The world's been burning forever and we're still arguing about who struck the match.
Tsk. Even world leaders have become the type we used to be ashamed to name.
I shook the leftover hair off the cape. Called the next customer. Damn this day. I went back to work.
—
After the imaginary rope entered Manar's chest, she began to descend. She didn't wake up or feel anything until she touched the ground.
Then she opened her eyes. She looked for the bike. Found it tipped over on its side. Her eyes narrowed. Someone had hit her bike — the most precious, most beautiful thing in the world. She picked it up, straightened it, then went out the door looking for the culprit.
(I think there will be blood today.)
While searching for the culprit, she found Mona chopping vegetables. Mama? She looks busy. She went to her to ask who had entered the room.
"Mama... Chicken... Alaa... hit it." (Mama, Alaa hit the bike.)
[Note from the author: I witness that he is innocent.]
When Mona noticed her daughter and heard her complaint, she laughed — she knew Alaa had left with her husband some time ago, and Manar was riding the bike when they left.
"Why do you think that, sweetheart?" She tried to suppress her laughter. Blame has a way of finding you while you sleep.
Was I...?
Here, Manar began to forget why she'd come to her mother.
"No need to rush, sweetheart. Take your time thinking. Then tell me what you want to say." Mona said to her daughter, who clearly didn't know how to express what she wanted. She was still small. Didn't know all the words yet. And what made her most beautiful was her strange way of speaking — hard for others to understand, except for her family and her friend Toqa.
Manar thought about why she'd left the room. She couldn't remember. Now she was even more confused.
When Mona saw her daughter's confusion, she picked her up and kissed her soft cheek.
"Mwah... What's wrong, sweetheart? Is something wrong with the bike?"
Here, Manar remembered. "Mama... found Chicken... flipped." (Mama, I found the bike flipped over.)
"Oh? And where were you when you found it flipped?" Mona poked Manar's cheek lightly, laughing.
I was...?
She didn't know what she was doing at that moment. She was confused about how to answer. And as she got more confused —
"Hahaha. I can't resist this beauty anymore."
"Mwah mwah mwah."
Mona burst out laughing and started playing with Manar, kissing her. Because Manar really is beautiful when she's confused. And you rarely see her like this — she's usually decisive, never hesitates. She inherited these traits from her mother.
"Okay, sweetheart. Let's go see the bike." She stood up, carrying Manar, and went to the room. Everything was fine. The bike looked undamaged. Mona placed her daughter on it.
"Come on, sweetheart. Try riding it." She encouraged her.
Manar started riding. Left the room. Took off through the living room. Mona followed, then returned to chopping vegetables.
But Manar had a different opinion. She was still thinking: Why was the bike tipped over? Who tipped it?
As she rode and thought, the TV was on — a children's program, as usual. Because of Alaa and Manar, no one could watch TV in peace anymore. Mona had long since accepted it.
While Manar was playing and watching, a new program started. The hero was a cat. He fought for justice. Investigated cases. Solved people's problems.
Manar's eyes lit up. She went to Mona.
"Mama... want... cat." (Mama, I want a cat.)
"Why, sweetheart? A cat is a creature that needs care. You're too young to take care of a living creature."
"Mama... cat detective... find who... flip Chicken." (Mama, the detective cat will find out who tipped the bike.) Manar said with clear insistence.
"Sweetheart, animals need special care. Whoever owns one has to take responsibility." Mona tried to make the child understand. To make her change her mind.
"Mama... Alaa... hit Chicken... cat... stop him... next time." (Mama, Alaa hit the bike. The cat will stop him next time.) Manar said after some thought.
"So how do you know Alaa tipped the bike?"
"Cat detective... will find out." Manar pointed at the TV.
"Sweetheart, if you want a cat, you have to take care of all its needs. And clean up after it. Can you handle that?"
Mona didn't know what to do. She knew her daughter couldn't understand responsibility yet. Wouldn't be able to care for a pet. Cats are known to be difficult — they always mess things up.
"Mama... detective cat." Manar repeated with the same insistence. Like she was delivering the final verdict in a trial.
Mona looked at her daughter. Then at the TV. Then at her daughter again.
"Okay, sweetheart. We'll ask Daddy when he comes back."
Manar smiled the smile of someone who knows the battle is over — and she's won. She went back to riding her bike.
—
After some time, Kamil and Alaa came home. As they entered, Manar greeted them — Mona behind her.
"Hi, Daddy!" Manar sped toward Kamil on her bike.
"Hello, sweetheart." Kamil lifted her off the bike.
Alaa tried to climb onto the bike. But Manar had a different opinion.
"Alaa... stay away... from Chicken... you... ick... don't touch... Chicken." (Alaa, stay away from the bike. You're ick. Don't touch the bike.)
"Huh? Why?! What did I do?!" Alaa was confused. Before he left with his father, she'd let him ride it.
"Manar, sweetheart. You shouldn't call your brother ick." Kamil said as he entered the living room, carrying Manar.
"Daddy... Alaa... hit Chicken... before... go... with you." (Daddy, Alaa hit the bike before he left with you.) Manar insisted. She didn't seem ready to drop it.
"Manar, sweetheart. Didn't I tell you not to accuse anyone without proof? Why don't we ask Alaa to make sure?" Mona whispered as she entered, carrying the bike. Alaa followed, confused.
"What's going on, Mom? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Alaa, son. Did you hit Manar's bike or tip it over before you left with your father?" Mona asked, knowing he was innocent.
"No, Mom. You know when we left, Manar was riding the bike behind us. After you closed the door." Alaa spoke logically. His wars with Sami had given him the cunning of a damn rat.
"Didn't I tell you, sweetheart? Alaa didn't do anything to the bike. You must have made a mistake."
"But... but... Chicken... Waaaaaah!" Manar started crying. She didn't know how to explain the situation.
"Come on, sweetheart. Don't cry. Shh, shh. Nothing happened. No need to cry. Everything will be okay. Mwah mwah." Kamil kept trying to calm her down, kissing her. Mona came too. They both tried until she finally stopped.
Mona explained the situation to her husband. It seemed Manar had no intention of being convinced.
"Daddy... detective cat."
"Huh?"
"Huh?" Alaa and Kamil didn't understand what Manar was talking about.
"Sweetheart, it seems Manar wants a cat." Mona explained.
"Hahahahaha!" Alaa burst out laughing. After calming down, he said sarcastically: "But Manar, how can a cat investigate? It's just a cartoon. Not real."
"You... ick... Ptoo... cat detective... real." She said angrily. Tried to spit. Failed. Looked like she might cry again.
"Hahaha. You're really something else to believe that." Alaa laughed.
"Waaaaaah! Alaa... ick... ptoo ptoo!" She burst into tears again. Started spitting air at him.
Attempt number one thousand. Keep going. I'm sure you'll succeed eventually. Or at least, that's how Sami would have encouraged her.
"Alaa, I swear if you don't shut your mouth, I'll shut it myself." Mona said to her son. Alaa and Kamil felt the temperature in the living room drop suddenly. Alaa went completely silent. Mona carried Manar. After several attempts, she finally stopped crying.
"Manar, sweetheart. I have a question." Mona said after she calmed down.
"Yes, Mama."
"Sweetheart. Who taught you how to spit?" She stroked Manar's head gently.
"Thami." Manar smiled.
"Sweetheart. It's not nice to spit. Okay? You're a butterfly. And butterflies don't spit." Mona smiled. But when Manar's attention drifted away, Alaa and Kamil's hair stood on end from the look on Mona's face.
Goodbye, Sami. We won't forget you. They thought silently.
[ Allow me to say goodbye along with them — the story is over. Goodbye, Sami. It was a beautiful journey, and it ended too fast. ]
— End of Chapter 9 —