Jean P Sasson - [Princess 02] (20 page)

Such committees are composed of menacing men who unexpectedly surround and enter eating establishments, demanding identification of the restaurant patrons. If proof is not forthcoming that the men and women sharing a table are husband and wife, brother and sister, or father and daughter, these frightened people will be arrested and escorted to a city jail, with punishment freely given. The legal penalties vary according to the nationality of the "criminal." Muslim offenders can be flogged for their social misconduct, while non-Muslims are jailed or deported.

In the beginning, Jafer and Fayza adjusted their morals to the situation.

Over time, Jafer located an apartment, offered by a sympathetic Lebanese friend, where they could meet in privacy. Since Fayza, as a woman, was not allowed to drive, she was forced to trust a family driver. Knowing that his participation could result in deportation or worse, Fayza lessened his hesitation by offering the man a large sum of money.

Out of this tempting attraction a great love blossomed. The lovers knew that neither one of them could ever love another. Jafer asked Fayza to marry him. Then, just as they were building up their courage to make their love known to their families, a crisis occurred. One of Saudi Arabia's wealthiest men approached Fouad for the privilege of asking the beautiful Fayza to wed his oldest son. Pressure mounted for Fayza to agree. Fouad declared that the perspective bridegroom was matchless.

"How long I have toiled to build a perfect relationship, which my father would so readily destroy!"

Fayza cried out to Connie.

The desperate lovers made their decision to flee the country. 

Fouad had been tricked, his honor tarnished, and now he would stop at nothing to find his only daughter!

Knowing how difficult it was for females in Saudi Arabia to travel freely, I asked, "How did Fayza manage to leave the kingdom alone?"

"She did not," Kareem replied, "leave alone."

I was pleased to hear that Fayza did not commit the sin of traveling alone. Saudi women are forbidden by our religion to travel without a male member of the family as escort. This particular restriction is taken directly from the words of the Prophet, who said: "She who believes in Al ah and the Last Day (meaning the Day of Judgment) must not travel any distance that is normally covered by one day's and one night's traveling unless accompanied by a mahram."

A woman's mahram is any relative to whom she cannot be married, such as her father, brother, uncle, nephew, stepfather, father-in-law, or son-in-law. She is allowed to travel with her husband as a matter of course.

I discovered that Fayza had talents in the art of treachery. She told her parents she needed some time away from mounting pressures. She hinted to her mother that a positive response would be forthcoming to the marriage proposal if she could only enjoy a small holiday. She thought she would like to visit her cousin, a girl who married a man from Dubai. Could she be rewarded with a weekend before she pledged herself to marriage?

Samia was bedridden with a sprained back, so Fayza's younger brother went along as his sister's required male escort.

Why should anyone be suspicious of Jafer's taking his annual holiday during this same period? In their wildest imaginations, no one in the family had linked the young man with Fayza.

Once in the safety of Dubai, removed from the dangers of Saudi Arabia, Fayza outmaneuvered her younger brother, slipping her passport from his travel bag while he was in the shower, and making an ordinary pretense of shopping with other females. Her brother volunteered to drive, dropping them at the Al Ghurair Centre on his way to meet a Saudi friend who was staying at the Chicago Beach Hotel, located on one of the most beautiful beaches in the Emirates.

From the Al Ghurair Centre, a popular shopping area, Fayza whispered to her cousin that she had to seek a toilet but would soon return. Her cousin, intent upon selecting perfume, thought little of the deception, promising Fayza that she would wait for her in the shop.

Fayza was not seen again. To her cousin's horror, she had disappeared.

A frantic search ensued, with Fouad and his wife fearing the worst for their daughter's safety. Had their child been kidnapped, raped, or murdered? While such crimes were rare in the Emirates, violent acts were occasionally committed.

When Connie learned of her well-loved mistress's strange disappearance, she collapsed into a weeping fit and confessed her knowledge of Jafer and Fayza's activities.

A father's love knows no reason. Not believing that his innocent daughter could be so devious, he cast all blame upon Jafer's head.

Neither Kareem nor I had ever heard of Fouad's resorting to abuse or force. He was known to all as a soft-spoken, kindly man. This was not the case during the emotional upheaval he suffered after his daughter's flight with a man. He fired the unfortunate Connie, putting her on the next flight to Manila. Then, in his wild rage, Fouad burst into Kareem's offices and physical y assaulted Jafer's uncle. There was a terrible scene, with Fouad threatening the man's life if Fayza was not returned unharmed, still a marriageable virgin.

The police were summoned by a frightened Indian secretary in a neighboring office.

In Saudi Arabia, liability for public disorder falls upon the foreigner, never upon a Saudi. In this case, Fouad was questioned by the police and apologies were made for their interference in a private matter. But had Kareem not been higher in rank and influence than Fouad, Jafer's uncle would have been imprisoned.

Everyone in my family felt saddened by the insoluble problems of human life, and no one knew the appropriate action to take.

Sara and I visited Samia in her home. Muttering that "life without love would be a mistake," I said everything wrong, causing poor Samia's ugly face to grow uglier still, while Sara knew how to express intense feeling in her own quiet way.

Bewildered by her child's rash flight, Samia had difficulty speaking and began to stutter anxious responses to Sara's kind sympathy.

When we departed Samia's home, I asked my sister, "How can the outworn traditions of our society be changed, without painful destruction of the older generation's expectations?"

It is my opinion that marriage brought about by love is most natural and rewarding, while the majority in my land scorn love and look only for respect and companionship after marriage.

How would we Saudi Arabians ever reconcile our differences?

Unable to determine his daughter's whereabouts without professional assistance, Fouad contacted private investigative agencies in France and America. One week after his child disappeared, Fouad discovered that she was in Nevada, registered in a hotel as Jafer's wife!

The moment the information came to Fouad, he traveled with his three sons to America, vowing to bring Fayza home. He promised his wife that their daughter would not remain with a Palestinian.

Caught up in his tyrannical affection, he said that Fayza's death would be preferable to the loss of his personal honor.

This bit of news created a furor in our household.

I bit my nails until my fingers bled.

Abdullah fell into a melancholy that threatened his health, sensing that nothing would ever be the same again.

Praying for the souls of the lovers, Amani glumly predicted that her prayers would not be answered, that the lovers had foolishly taken their paradise on earth, and that fires of molten metal would welcome them as they exited this earth. 

Abdullah glared at his sister and cuttingly remarked that perhaps Jafer felt Fayza's feminine perfection was worth the quitting of heaven.

Caring deeply for both Jafer and Fayza, Maha became hostile to anyone who criticized the lovers, declaring that no man or government should have authority over true love.

Abdullah and I pleaded with Kareem to make contact with Jafer, to give him a warning to flee. I told Kareem that Fayza's male relatives needed more time to accept the crucial fact that Fayza now belonged with another. Their extreme anger could not prevail; time would ease their rage.

It was not to be. My husband infuriated me, remaining true to the Saudi male policy of accepting any injustice, if that injustice involved a man's obsession with his women or the family honor. Thinking to incite him to action, I insulted Kareem, telling him that I was disappointed to discover I had wed a man who failed to probe the deeper complexities of life, who instead was a dull, unfeeling type that tended to remain on the surface of things.

As I left my husband standing open mouthed in amazement at my attack, I could not resist one final barb. "Kareem, how can you have no conflict between logic and feeling? Are you not human?"

Silently I retreated, but secretly I had Abdullah take action. At my urging, he searched Kareem's office and found the information that had been provided by the investigative services looking for Jafer and Fayza.

Triumphant, we were careful to hide ourselves from Kareem and Amani, making our telephone call during the long evening prayer, knowing that Kareem was in the mosque and Amani locked in her room, facing Makkah, saying her prayers.

With shaking fingers, Abdullah punched the number of the Mirage Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, where Jafer and Fayza were known to be registered.

As I watched the brooding face of my beautiful son patiently waiting for the hotel opera tor to ring the room, I was possessed by the fever a mother has for her children, wishing for Abdullah's pain to leave his body and enter mine.

Jafer answered the telephone!

Abdullah tortured himself trying to find the right words to make Jafer understand that he was in great danger.

His friend was dismayed at their rapid discovery but felt secure in his married state. "What can they do now?" he asked Abdullah.

When Abdullah repeated the question to me, I grabbed the telephone from my son's hand. "They can do plenty, Jafer," I yelled.

"Fouad's honor has been attacked, his only daughter has vanished with a man not thought suitable!

Do not be a fool! You are an Arab, you are aware what reactions such anguish will bring to an Arab father!"

Jafer tried to soothe my fears, claiming that their love would see them through any persecution.

Fayza came to the telephone, speaking softly into the receiver, which Jafer still held in his hand.

Fayza's sultry voice told of the wonderful love that had prevailed, in spite of the substantial obstacles placed in its path by the laws of our land.

"Fayza, you are still a youth of twenty and have loosened yourself from our ancient traditions. Your father cannot do this. Fouad is a man of desert mentality, and he can only flow down the main stream. In his mind, you have committed a shocking offense. Leave that place! Meet with the men of your family at a later date."

My pleas for the lovers to vanish made no impact. How weak my words must have seemed to their brave spirits. Courageous, Jafer vowed he would face the fury of Fayza's family.

I returned the telephone to my son, thinking that I had done all I could.

I thought, is it a glory or a disaster that they have no suspicion yet of the extent of their tragedy? I realized the narrow limits of their lovers' vision. Jafer and Fayza were blinded, believing that the strength of their great love could conquer the challenge of her furious and disapproving family.

Fretting in silence, I could only hope that Jafer and Fayza would be able to delay destiny for a while.

It was four days before Fouad returned to the kingdom.

His voice low and uneasy, Kareem called me from his offices and reported that Fouad and his sons had returned from America.

My throat closed around the words I could not ask.

After a dry pause, Kareem added that Fouad had returned with his daughter but without her husband.

My voice returned. "Is Jafer dead?" I asked, wondering already how we would break the cruel news to Abdullah.

"No. Jafer is not dead," Kareem answered, his voice causing me to doubt his words even as he spoke them.

I was quiet, waiting for the news I was not sure I wanted to hear.

"Sultana, I am coming home. Together, we will tell Abdullah what has happened."

"What happened?" I screamed, thinking that I could not bear to wait for Kareem to make the twenty-five-minute drive from his office to our home.

I heard a click and the line went dead. I told myself that my husband's news must be dreadful, for Kareem, like most Arabs, had a habit of putting aside unpleasant truths until the last possible moment.

Fouad had told my husband little, only that there had been a minor scuffle in Jafer and Fayza's hotel room, and that Jafer had been left unconscious but without serious injury.

Fayza? Naturally, his daughter had been traumatized by the incident and was now at their palace under sedation. Without the influence of Jafer, Fouad believed his daughter would quickly return to her senses.

I looked at Kareem and announced with certainty, "Jafer is dead!"

"Nonsense. They were in America."

Two weeks later we received a telephone call from Jafer, who had returned to Lebanon, and we finally learned the truth of the matter.

Jafer's words to me were, "All is lost." He paused. "Except for my skin, which is safe."

"Abdullah!" I called out. "It is Jafer! Come quickly!"

Kareem, Maha, and I circled Abdullah as he spent long moments quietly listening to his dearest friend, comforting the caller with reassurances. "What could you do? You had no choice."

With a start, I heard my son say, "I am coming!" stating that he would soon be on his way to Lebanon, that nothing could keep him from his friend's side.

I grabbed Abdullah's arms and began to shake my head no, vigorously.

My feet left the floor as Kareem yanked me from my son's face.

Abdullah put the telephone on hold. With tears running down his face, my son buried his head in his hands and began to weep bitter tears. His words were muffled, difficult to understand. "Jafer is ruined! He is ruined!"

"What is this about Lebanon?" I inquired, too agitated at the thought of Abdullah traveling to that country to consider Jafer's condition.