Chapter Fourteen
The summer vacation began with a beautiful sunny day. At church, Jerry and Miriam got some knowing smirks and a bit of teasing from a couple of the young people who witnessed ‘The Kiss’. Dorothy had somehow heard about it early enough so that she could be in time to come to the service and get the story directly from her red-faced son.
That afternoon Jerry, Miriam and Michelle went down to the beach to build sand castles and hunt for treasure and ended the day with supper at Jack and Rose’s place.
The rest of the week was much the same. The three of them did chores or shopping in the morning followed by an outing in the afternoon to the beach or a museum ending with a late supper and some cuddling in front of the television after Michelle was in bed. As Rose had advised, Miriam used the time to get to know Jerry better, to share hopes and fears, to learn to trust each other more each day.
Jerry’s sister Maggie and her family came for the weekend and stayed at Jerry’s house. Saturday was Canada Day so they all went to the big outdoor festival on the Commons in Halifax for the afternoon where they ran into Jaclyn and a few of her friends who were staking out places for the evening concert and endured some more good natured teasing.
With Rose’s eldest son visiting her, there was a big barbeque at Jack’s house on Saturday evening with old friends and a small horde of children running through the sprinkler in the back yard. Miriam was astounded at how quickly everyone accepted her into the family. Rose's evening was capped when her son announced that he and his wife were expecting their first.
As pleasant as it all was, Miriam was feeling edgy. The Newsworld reports from Lebanon and Israel told of increasing tension between Hezbollah and the Israeli defence forces. Peggy had called Thursday to let Miriam know that her information package had been received eight days ago by the IRB. Lorne called Friday to confirm that Annabelle had been served the divorce papers.
Just after breakfast on Tuesday, the phone rang. Jerry answered then said, in a puzzled tone, “Miriam, the phone’s for you.”
“Am I speaking with Miriam Nadif?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“My name is Glenn Parker. I’m with the Canadian Security Intelligence Service. We received some information from the Immigration and Refugee Board in relation to your refugee claim. We’d like to speak with you, at your convenience.”
Miriam felt the floor drop out from under her. Why was CSIS interested in her? She took a deep breath then asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
“There are some people you mentioned in your narrative that we’d like to get some information about.”
“Can I speak with my lawyer first?”
She heard a sigh. “Yes, of course you can.” He dictated a number where he could be reached and thanked her for her time.
She dug Peggy’s card out of her purse and dialled the number. After a couple of minutes on hold, Peggy’s warm alto voice came on the line. “Miriam, are you okay? Donna said you sounded stressed.”
Miriam let out her breath. “Well, I don’t like surprises very much. I wanted to know if it was normal for the Canadian Security Intelligence Service to call refugees.”
Peggy paused then said, “It’s not normal at all. If the IRB wanted to question you, they would either send one of their own investigators or ask the RCMP to talk to you. Usually you'd go in to the Port of Halifax offices to talk to them. Did the CSIS officer say what they wanted?”
“Only that they read the narrative from my personal information form and had some questions about some people I mentioned.”
Peggy said, “Oh. That actually makes sense. Someone you mentioned is probably on one of the terrorist watch lists. When they sent your information for a background check the names would have stood out.”
“Should I talk to them?”
“It can’t hurt. As I said, if you were suspected of something it would be the RCMP knocking on the door. CSIS might be able to do you a favour in return like ask the IRB to consider expediting your case.”
Miriam thought for a while. Peggy continued, “If you’d like, I can book the small boardroom here at my office and sit with you for the initial meeting.”
“I would like that.”
Peggy gave Miriam three possible times over the next three days when both she and the boardroom were available but advised that she’d have to book the room before noon today to be sure of getting it.
Miriam thanked Peggy for her assistance before hanging up then explained the situation to Jerry. “I’d like you there, too, my love.”
Jerry called Rose to arrange for sitting then Miriam called Mr. Parker to set up the meeting, which couldn't happen until Friday.
The next three days followed the normal pattern but by Friday morning Miriam was wound tight with worry. Jerry tried to hug her tension away, but he only reduced it to a tolerable level.
Peggy greeted them warmly at reception and said, “You must be Jerry Ernst. Miriam’s told me a little bit about you. I’m Peggy MacDonald.” After shaking hands, Peggy continued. “The two CSIS officers are already in the board room. I guess they were eager to speak with you.”
The two officers were Glenn Parker, a compact fireplug of a man who radiated intensity and Maureen Fitzsimmons, a willowy redhead with a graceful manner and a ready smile. They stood to introduce themselves.
Glenn smiled in relief as they sat down and the smile reached his eyes. “First, I’d like to thank you very much for agreeing to speak with us. Two of the names on your narrative are of great interest to our anti-terrorist unit in Ottawa and they’d like any information you can provide about them.”
Peggy smiled in return. “I have your assurance that this is not an investigation of Miss Nadif?”
“Absolutely. Our preliminary enquiries with our counterparts in Israel confirmed your client's narrative. But I do have some bad news for you that definitely clears Miss Nadif of any involvement.”
Miriam’s throat constricted. Peggy responded, “Bad news?”
Maureen consulted her notes and fished out a document held together with a paper clip. “Yes. An imam named Imad Hadadi has issued a fatwa advising that,” Maureen’s tone changed as she quoted from the translation in front of her, “…in my considered opinion as a Shariah scholar, Miriam Nadif unfaithful daughter of the late Tariq Nadif of Manzieh is guilty of idolatry and apostasy. By converting to the false faith of the infidel Christians she brought shame upon her family and her community. Further, because she did not properly remain in the house of her guardian to await his rightful judgment and her proper punishment, I must assume that there is no possibility that this wilful and unnatural woman will recant her apostasy. The prescribed punishment for her offence is death by stoning, but a merciful death by any means at the hands of a faithful member of the community of believers will suffice.” Maureen looked up at Miriam who sat very still. Maureen handed over a copy of the Arabic text and Miriam confirmed the translation was close.
Miriam took a deep breath before responding. “I was expecting something like this.” She said in a quiet voice.
Peggy asked, “May I make a copy of the fatwa and the translation? I would like to forward it to the IRB.”
Maureen looked at Peggy. “We will make certain that the IRB gets a copy of this and I’ll let you take a copy before I leave. It will probably expedite Miriam’s refugee claim but it does put her in some danger, even here in Canada.”
Miriam muttered, “The opinion of a minor cleric in a small town in Lebanon probably won’t have much weight in the mosques here in Canada.”
Glenn tapped his fingers on the table. “Not in the great majority of them but there are some hard line Shiite mosques in the Toronto area that may take it seriously.” He named three of them. Miriam got a shocked look when the second one was named.
Jerry looked at Miriam with concern and asked, “What’s the matter, dear heart?”
“One of those mosques is the one Uncle Mahmoud worsh
ips at. I haven’t let him know where I am because he would judge that I dishonoured the family when I ran away from Rafiq. I don’t know that he would do anything about it if he locates me but I’m not willing to take a chance. He's a good friend of Uncle Walid. His wife is sister to my father.”
“Speaking of Rafiq, I assume you are speaking of Rafiq Mahmoud?” Glenn leaned forward.
“Yes.” Miriam caught the eager gleam in his eye. “I assume he’s on your terror list.”
“So is Walid Nadif.”
“Uncle Walid? Are you sure?”
“That’s what Mossad told us. They would like some information on their whereabouts if you can provide any information. Rafiq Mahmoud has been linked to some recent border incidents. They think that your Uncle Walid is part of the group that is smuggling Syrian rockets into south Lebanon and the Palestinian territories for Hezbollah.”
Miriam searched Jerry’s face for some reassurance. He reached over to squeeze her hand. “I’ll support you either way.”
Miriam gave a grateful smile to Jerry then said, “Good. I owe less than nothing to Walid.” Turning to the CSIS officers she asked, “So what do you want to know?”
Peggy jumped in. “Miriam, I think you can take it from here. See me before you leave so you can let me know if there’s anything new we should file with the IRB.” Turning to Maureen, she said, “Can you make sure that the local detachment of the RCMP is notified about this threat to my client?” They gave their assent. As she was leaving she reminded them that they promised to forward a copy of the fatwa to the IRB and let her make a copy.
The interview lasted the full scheduled three hours but it was clear that Miriam had more information to give them. Maureen made arrangements to visit Miriam in Hubbards with a binder full of pictures to see if Miriam could identify any of the men or locations.
Jerry took Miriam to lunch at Historic Properties to decompress. “How serious is the fatwa, really?”
“If I was still in Lebanon, I’d already be dead. Rafiq would have repudiated our betrothal and Uncle Walid would have had to do something to erase the shame that I brought on the family. Father would have merely disowned me and tried to see me settled somewhere like Canada or in Australia with mother's Christian friendly relatives, but Uncle Walid truly believes he has the power of life and death over his dependents. Or I would have been stoned to death because Imam Hadadi does not truly believe that apostates can recant despite implying something different in his fatwa. Either way, I’d be dead.”
“You looked really surprised when Glenn mentioned your Uncle Mahmoud’s mosque. I knew he was very traditional but I didn’t think he was that hard line.”
“I didn’t either. I guess they really needed the money my father paid them for my room and board. But then, Uncle almost never spoke to me. As long as I kept my conversion private I wasn’t in any danger from him.”
“But he might know about the fatwa.”
“He probably does. He was always close to Walid and Walid can stay angry forever. They probably suspect I'm in Canada.”
Jerry looked out over the harbour but wasn’t seeing it. “We should tell Gert to let us know if anyone asks after you.”
“That would be a good idea. We need to let Rose and Jan and the other neighbours know, too.”
The drive home was sombre but Michelle’s enthusiastic welcome banished all of the gloom that hung over them. Miriam made a supper of her favourite comfort foods and they watched Shrek together to escape their thoughts for a while.
When it was time to put Michelle to bed, Jerry asked, “Who would you like to tuck you in, Mitchie?” He was fully expecting that he would do that. Miriam gave him an annoyed look.
Michelle surprised them both by picking Miriam and dragging her by the hand up to her room. Miriam gave Jerry a ferocious glare as she rounded the corner. Jerry sheepishly gathered the plates and mugs that had collected in the living room and returned them to the kitchen. Creeping upstairs he paused with his head just at the floor level to hear Miriam singing softly in Arabic.
Moving quietly onto the landing, avoiding all of the creaking boards, he poked his head around the bedroom door frame to see Michelle’s eyes closed and Miriam stroking her soft curly hair. Jerry’s heart swelled as he imagined Miriam doing the same thing with their future children. He looked around and thought about filling the empty bedrooms with new life.
Miriam finished the song and gave Michelle a gentle kiss before standing up and leaving the bedroom. Looking daggers at Jerry as she breezed past him, she went quietly downstairs with her back very straight. Jerry followed slowly, knowing that he was in deep trouble. He could hear some abrupt clinking of dishes and the sound of running water as he entered the kitchen.
Miriam heard his tread on a creaky board and turned on him. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“What?”
“Assume I’m willing to do something without being asked first. You’re lucky I love the two of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Miriam came forward with moist eyes and wrapped her arms around Jerry’s waist. “I’m sorry, too, Jerry. It’s been a rotten day and then you spring that surprise on me tonight. It was a nice surprise but… I… hate… surprises.” She punctuated the last phrase with well placed pokes to his sternum. “I can paste on a smile and handle them just fine,” she gritted her teeth and continued, “but I... don’t... like... it. So don’t do that again.”
Jerry hung his head. “I'm sorry.” He looked up with a sudden thought. “I’d better tell Rose. She’s fond of surprise parties.”
“Yes you’d better. And she had better believe you. A few extra guests at a planned party is fine. Not telling me about the party… I might just go home. Or I’d be super polite to everyone else and not speak to Rose for a week.”
Jerry was surprised by Miriam’s vehemence. He kissed the top of her head and promised, “Rose will believe me. And I won’t have surprise guests or parties for you to deal with. And I'll tell my family to call before they drop in for supper. There will probably be some other small surprises here and there because I’ve been alone for so long I'll forget that you need to know, but I’ll do my best to remember.”
“And I’ll do my best to stay calm.” She looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. “Forgive me?”
“Always. If you forgive me.” Jerry took advantage of her upturned face to claim a kiss before stepping back. “Actually, I was just as surprised as you were. I was hoping that Michelle would accept you in her life, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen this quickly. By the way, what were you singing to her?”
Miriam sang a few bars while she waited for the sink to finish filling. “It’s a setting for Psalm 106; verses one to five and verse 47. I love the message and because the tune is an old Lebanese folk song I could hum it while I worked and no one guessed. I know another thirty or so Christian hymns in Arabic that are set to folk tunes.”
“You have a beautiful voice.” Jerry moved closer.
“You have wonderful hands.” Miriam took his hands and wrapped his arms around her.
“I love your hair.” Jerry brought his hand up to stoke her glistening pony tail. Miriam’s breath caught and she made some soft noises of appreciation.
“I love the way you hold me. I feel safe and beloved.” Miriam wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on him. Then she tilted her head up for a kiss, and murmured, “and desired.”
Jerry continued stroking her hair with one hand while the other stroked downward to the swell of her hips. Miriam's breathing became ragged and her pulse accelerated.
Jerry's breathing quickened to match. He found the breath to speak. “I love…Oh, no…” They released each other quickly as they became aware of the sound of flowing water hitting the floor. Jerry reached quickly to turn off the faucet while Miriam grabbed a pile of tea towels to mop up the spill.
Miriam handed Jerry a towel to wipe the counter. After they finished, they stared at each o
ther and began to laugh.
Jerry spoke first. “Well, aren’t we a pair?” He leaned over the damp floor to give her an affectionate peck on the nose. “I’m glad we were interrupted. It’s getting harder to stop with just kisses.”
Miriam gave Jerry a hug then started to wash the evening’s dishes. “I know we need to wait, but it is getting harder for me, too.” They worked in companionable silence for a while.
Miriam walked over to the coat rack and put on her slicker. “I need to get going.” Stepping into his arms she raised her head for a good long kiss. “Tosbeho ‘ala kheer, habibi. Good night, my love.”
“Tosbeheena ‘ala kheer, habibti.” Jerry smiled. “Did I say that right?”
“Almost, but we can work on your Arabic pronunciation later, light of my eyes.”
“Sweet dreams, heart of my own heart.” Jerry watched until she disappeared around the corner of Jan’s house. “Psalm 106, she said.”
Jerry turned out the lights and went up to his room. Opening his Bible he read the verses that inspired the song.
1 Praise the Lord. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.
2 Who can proclaim the mighty acts of the Lord or fully declare his praise?
3 Blessed are those who act justly, who always do what is right.
4 Remember me, Lord, when you show favour to your people,
come to my aid when you save them,
5 that I may enjoy the prosperity of your chosen ones,
that I may share in the joy of your nation and join your inheritance in giving praise.
47 Save us, Lord our God, and gather us from the nations,
that we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise.
Saying Amen, he closed his Bible. Finishing with a prayer for Miriam’s safety and a thanksgiving for her and Michelle, he closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.