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Strings - Capstone Amal Al Shamsi (1)

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“Baba, when we get home, can I use your phone to call him?”

He let out an annoyed sound, not knowing where it came from. Her face changed. “I

think we need to give him some space, no? We are already all caught up untangling the knots

that he keeps tying himself in.”

“That’s a strange way to describe what people in a family do for each other,” she said. If

he shut his eyes, she was a child speaking with her mother’s voice.

“Do they?” he asked her, as if also asking then why didn’t anyone let him know

beforehand.

There was something moving around her head, static, but she said nothing. Instead she

turned to the front and eased the hood of her head. Beneath, was a mane of wavy hair, just

barely grazing her chin. She ran her fingers through it, bringing the hair forward to her face

before pushing it back.

Hamza was stunned but did not give it away. “When did you do that?”

“Since one year,” Haya said, then stopped, “No, almost two.”

He stopped to think, eyebrows touching. “No. I saw photos of you recently.”

His daughter laughed. “And you didn’t notice?”

“No,” Hamza said, “I would have.”

“It must suit me,” she said.

“Long is best. Like your mother’s,” Hamza told her. He had liked that his children got his

curls, that was the most they got from him, probably for the better. His daughter had a soft, full

face and the hair cut through it like something sharp.

“Maybe I’ll try to grow it overnight.”

Hamza moved his hand off the middle seat, holding his seat belt instead. “You can use

my phone. I don’t know if you’ll get through to him, or if it’s a good idea to try to call.”

There was a long silence before she responded. “Thank you.” Then, after another while,

“Can I see the tickets?”

He moved a hand to his phone although he knew they weren’t there.

“Or let’s just wait until we reach, I’m getting dizzy,” she said, her voice grew soft. She

turned her body towards the window.

“You’ll get more carsick that way, lay down,” Hamza told her, reaching out and lightly

touching her shoulder. It was so warm, she must have been sweating. His daughter stayed put,

he couldn’t see her face but he imagined her closing her eyes.

98

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