Mariyah’s Blog

Alexandra felt as if her sobs would tear her apart if it weren’t for Ghassan’s strong arms around her. Suddenly nothing else in the world mattered except escaping this repulsive fate that her father had brought down on her. How could her father take her away from the man she really loved and place her, instead, with someone for whom she had no feelings? He had always been very strict with her, but doesn’t a father ultimately want happiness for his child? In one swift blow, her father had negated her judgment. Feelings of betrayal enveloped her. The hurt was only abated by the love she felt for the man who now held her.

Why couldn’t they just leave for Syria? Leave all this behind and go somewhere where her father couldn’t, or wouldn’t, follow her. The hero and the heroine were always escaping under the cover of darkness in the movies; secretly married and riding off into the sunset. If this scenario could be imagined, why couldn’t it really happen? Alexandra didn’t want to have to defend herself against her father anymore. She wanted, rightly or wrongly, to be whisked off by a fearless defender on a pure Arabian across the deserts to the exotic lands that she could only imagine in her dreams.

As she listened to Ghassan’s heart beating, Alexandra settled comfortably against his body. She breathed deeply and the sensual scent of his cologne mixed with the bouquet of his sweater filled her airways. The ambrosia nearly stupefied her and at the same time rose a desire in her that she had never felt before. Away from his chest she moved her face to nuzzle softly in the tender place just below his ear. The skin there was so soft and compelling. Alexandra allowed her lips to caress that place as she drew him in closer with her embrace. She felt his body tense but continued anyway. As a lock of his hair tickled her cheek she took the supple, irresistible part of his ear gingerly between her teeth and massaged it with her tongue. A more delectable morsel she had never tasted.

Suddenly all the anger, fear, frustration, and even hatred, toward her father transformed into an energy of passion. Back in that little pantry, she knew that what she now wanted she couldn’t possibly have and yet she had no control of her pursuit of it. In her ear, Alexandra heard Ghassan’s breathing intensify driving her further into a state of complete longing. She released the tip of his ear lobe and moved along his strong jawline and nudged his lips with hers. At first he was unresponsive, but as she nudged again, he smoothly replied in kind. Alexandra found the effect so utterly intoxicating that she pulled him in even closer and kissed him fully. At that, as if no longer able to restrain himself, Ghassan enveloped her, drawing her in so tightly that she was sure she would never be able to breathe again.

The agility of Ghassan’s lips and the intensity with which he now poured his devotion upon her made Alexandra weak in the knees. She felt as if the rest of the world was literally dissolving around her. All coherent thought had flown from her mind. All she could do, all she wanted to do, was to hold on to that moment’s rapture forever. But it was not to be. From within the café a plate crashed loudly against the floor and sounded as though it had broken into a million pieces. And so shattered that moment between them. Alexandra desperately wanted to reclaim it and bring it to life again but Ghassan held her back by taking her face in his hands.

“No, no more. Not here. Not now, Alexandra.” He said quietly and took a deep breath as if trying to compose himself, as if trying to convince himself of his own words. With a little smile he added, “We’re wanted criminals now. We have to keep moving!”

“You didn’t like…” Alexandra started.

“I liked it all too much, my Beauty. But you do agree that this pantry is a little…confining?” He whispered with a sparkle in his eyes.

Alexandra couldn’t help but smile and to let out a small laugh. “Where will we go? We can’t go back to Frau Hanaur’s. He’ll be there.”

“Let’s go back to my residence. Your father doesn’t know where that is. We can figure out what we’ll do once we get there.”

With that, Ghassan pushed open the back door of the café slightly to make sure the alley was empty. When he had deemed all was safe, he placed his coat around Alexandra’s shoulders, took her hand in his and they left the temporary safety of the pantry for the Stuttgart streets.

The black anger that had seized Ghassan’s mind, made him oblivious to his surroundings. The northerly wind pushed at him and he pushed back angrily. Words of an imagined argument with Alexandra’s father swirled around in his head; thoughts of stealing Alexandra away in the middle of the night, heading East on a midnight express, made his blood course. With each deliberate footstep away from the house his resolve strengthened. He had to do something. If he went home he would go mad with waiting. Waiting for someone else to decide the course of his future was not something he could stand for. Why was he being barred from the discussions when he was central to them?

Ghassan stopped abruptly with the purpose of turning around but just as he did, a young woman ran past him. Ghassan’s mind had been so focused on his own thoughts that he did not pay her much attention except he noticed she wasn’t wearing a coat and only a scarf over her head. Inadvertently he turned to look back at Frau Hanauer’s home and was surprised to see Frau Hanauer still on the stoop. She was waving frantically in his direction. Then he saw a tall figure emerge hurriedly from the house and leap the four steps from the stoop to the front walk. Suddenly, Ghassan’s mind focused on the events that were unfolding. He realized that the woman who had passed him was Alexandra and the man quickly approaching was her father.

Without another thought, Ghassan began to run after Alexandra. She was at least several hundred metres ahead of him. He could hear her father shouting her name behind him and he knew he had to catch up to her before her father did. His long legs took him further and faster than either Alexandra or her father could run. Without looking back, Alexandra turned down a lane way. Ghassan rounded the same corner now less than 50 metres behind her and was catching up quickly. Alexandra seemed to sense someone approaching and sped up. As the two took a sharp curve in the alley, Ghassan could almost reach out to touch the back of her dress. He quickly looked behind him but could see no sign of her father.

“Alexandra! Stop!” He shouted. “It’s me, Ghassan!”

Alexandra turned to look at Ghassan while she continued to run, her face a mix of surprise and fear.
“I can’t stop! If he catches me…” Her voice trailed off as she continued down the alley.

The alley had mostly a mixture of back doors and doors to storage rooms set into the gray stone buildings. Higher up, were several stories of windows. The alley was deserted except for garbage cans, and stacked boxes and a few stray cats. Ghassan’s and Alexandra’s footsteps echoed loudly as they slapped against the old stone walkway. Ghassan was starting to feel tired from the running and was wondering where they could run to to elude Alexandra’s father. As they had almost arrived at the far end of the alley, he suddenly recognized a sign from a café that he frequented on one of the back doors. Without a warning, he grabbed Alexandra’s arm and pulled her toward that door.

Shouts behind them warned them that Professor Cochrane was still in pursuit. Ghassan pulled hard on the door but it did not open. He rattled it a little more and finally it gave way. The two slipped quietly into the tiny pantry for the café and closed the door gently. Ghassan wrapped his arms around Alexandra and pulled her close as they both panted hard after such a run. Again, they heard her father’s shouts now just outside the door and then nothing as he had emerged onto the main street.

Alexandra began to cry as she buried her face in Ghassan’s chest. “He is going to marry me off to David McEwan! Take me away where he can’t find me!” Ghassan looked down to see her small, flushed face looking up at his. “Take me to Syria!” She pleaded.

Ghassan stroked her hair gently and sighed. “If only it were that easy, Habibti. If only.”

Christmas break was arriving much faster than Ghassan had expected. An enjoyable fall with Alexandra had made the time whisk by. As the snow gently fell, once again, on the Stuttgart streets, he regretted only one thing – that he hadn’t been able to take her somewhere special, just the two of them. He understood Frau Hanauer’s desire to put limits on their freedom, but he had hoped she might grant them a little more, even if it were just a walk in the snow. He had wished to be able to hold Alexandra in his arms, to touch her face, and perhaps even to sneak a kiss – all things impossible in a proper sitting room. For weeks these thoughts had been building in his mind. Today, being Sunday, he had decided that he would finally talk to Frau Hanauer about the possibility.

On this afternoon the skies were overcast, but the freshly fallen snow which blanketed the ground and the roof tops gave the neighborhood a magical glow. The nip of frost in the air was invigorating as opposed to oppressive and Ghassan breathed deeply as he trudged through the streets to Alexandra’s. Many of the homes along the way had beautiful fir wreaths with festive ribbons adorning their doors. Ghassan laughed to himself as he stopped to watch a cat, huddled on a windowsill, yowl unpleasantly at its owner through the glass. Only a cat, he thought, could be so unpleasant and still so adored. Further along, as he approached Frau Hanauer’s, Ghassan felt a spring in his step – a lightness that came only with the thought of Alexandra.

Frau Hanauer’s home was always neatly kept. Today, the walk was shoveled, fresh sprigs of evergreen followed the wrought-iron banister to the bottom of the steps, and a tidy welcome mat invited one to wipe one’s boots before stepping upon the threshold. Everything appeared as it always did and Ghassan had no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary behind the large, wooden, front door. But when Frau Hanauer opened the door, her face was sternly set. In a loud voice she shouted in German something about not wanting any, and forced Ghassan back out onto the landing as she closed the door behind her.

“Ghassan, dear.” began Frau Hanauer in a hushed tone, “You can’t meet with Alexandra today.”

“But why, Frau?” Ghassan staggered with confusion. “What’s happened?”

“Her father is here.” Frau Hanauer looked directly into Ghassan’s eyes to ensure that he understood her message. “You’d better go home.”

Ghassan looked back at Frau Hanauer wide eyed with surprise. “Her father.” He repeated. As he did so, a twinge of fear nestled itself into his heart. “But why?”

“He has come to take her home for the holidays.” Frau Hanauer stated simply. “But I suspect there’s more to his arrival than he has stated. I think he wants to survey my home to make sure all is as it should be, according to his instructions.”

Ghassan stood completely still, his eyes on Frau Hanauer and his mind spinning. The fear that had tried to implant itself was now being washed away by fiery Arab blood. The darkness of anger and frustration began to pool in his already dark eyes. Stiffly, he stood tall while he placed his hands behind his back and clenched his fists.

“I need to speak to him.” he said coldly.

“Ghassan, please.” Frau Hanauer implored. “He is not a man who is easily reasoned with. Go home and let me deal with him.”

“No. I will not. With all due respect, Frau, this matter must be settled by me and Alexandra.”

“He does not know.” Frau Hanauer said sternly. “He thinks everything is as he had ordered. What do you think will happen if you go in there right now? How do you think that would affect Alexandra? He could take her home and never let her return.”

“This charade must end. I must face him.”

“Not today, Ghassan.” Something in Frau Hanauer’s voice alerted Ghassan. Her face was stony and her eyes fierce. “Go home.”

Ghassan’s instinct was to push past her and to enter the house. But as he felt his blood boiling, he felt a deeper gratitude to, and respect for, this staunch woman standing before him. He turned briskly and descended the stairs and then turned again to look at Frau Hanauer.

“My heart is in your hands, Frau.” he said with a slight edge to his voice – partially a plea and partially a warning. As he walked quickly away, he heard the large wooden door close again as Frau Hanauer went back inside.