start looking. Just make sure you put things
back exactly as you found them."
"Will do."
Nasreen is twice as fast as I am. It's her
home, after all. She looks through her parent's room and living
room, finding four dollars worth of loose change. I try the closet
door in the front hallway to make sure it's locked, still thinking
of that box of money, but Uncle hasn't left it open. Then I'm in
the kitchen, putting utensils and appliances back where I found
them, handling them with care since I'm afraid Auntie will notice
something's awry. When I reach the last drawer, I hit pay dirt.
There's a list, but it's in Persian. It's
paper-clipped to six ten dollar bills. Sixty dollars! It's not the
one hundred we're looking for, but it's something.
"Nasreen, I found something!" I say.
She rushes over and smiles. "This looks like
an old shopping list for groceries, sewing stuff, and school
supplies," she says. "I think it's from September. Mom must have
forgotten about it."
"Yeah, or she would have taken it with her
just now."
"According to what you say you have left over
for your trip expenses and considering that Omar fleeced me, we
don't have one hundred dollars, but maybe if we go back to the
store in Brooklyn the guy can lower the price or we can haggle.
Maybe he'll drop the price to seventy-five or eighty."
"But what if your mom notices today or
tomorrow that the money's missing?"
"I don't think she'll notice anytime soon
since it's been here awhile. Also, in a few weeks I can replenish
it. Aunt Latifah is visiting from Buffalo in August, and she always
gives me money when she comes down here. Also, I won't spend a dime
of my allowance."
"Still, a few weeks is a long time."
"Not for my mom," Nasreen says. "She won't
notice it missing right away. Anyway, if she sees something is
gone, she blames jinn. You know, genies? She says they move stuff
to cause mischief."
My parents have warned me about jinn, that
they shift things around people's homes as a prank. Shortly before
I left, my mother lost her sewing kit and blamed it on them. "In
that, case, let's go to Brooklyn, and I'm sure the store owner
can't turn this money down," I say. "Let's go today."
"We'll wait for Mom to come back so I can
tell her we're sightseeing." She says the last word with air
quotes. It's okay since I've seen all of New York's biggest sights
during previous trips. Right now my mind is on the replacement
tape.
"But, maybe there is more money somewhere," I
say.
"We've checked every room. I even checked the
toilet tank, because people keep things in there to hide from
burglars."
"Yuck."
"I checked my dad's desk in the living room.
Really, there's just the closet."
"You're forgetting one place. I know you said
we can't take from him, but at least we can take a peek behind
Omar's curtains."
Nasreen's eyes darken. I also feel a bit ill
thinking about it. Those curtains have come to symbolize something
mysterious and sinister, but I'm still curious. What's behind those
curtains? What does Omar do for hours a day behind them?
"All right," Nasreen says. "Things are so
rocky between me and him that I haven't been there in months."
"Really?" I say.
"Yeah. Let's go though."
Nasreen follows me. When something pokes my
back, I jump up and yelp. She laughs at my fear. "Oooh, the
boogeyman will get you," Nasreen howls in a spooky voice.
"Boooogeyman."
"I don't expect rainbows and butterflies, but
I know we're bound to see something frightening in there."
"You first," she says.
"No, you," I say.
"No... you!"
"All right, all right, I'll go first."
Chapter Thirteen
The curtains are emerald green and shimmery.
In my opinion, they're too good for Omar. He should be living
behind flaps of burlap or something. Auntie hand-sews many things,
and looking at the stitches they look like they're her work. Not
that her sewing is bad or anything, but I can tell the stitches
aren't from a machine. The fabric is something she probably
purchased during
back exactly as you found them."
"Will do."
Nasreen is twice as fast as I am. It's her
home, after all. She looks through her parent's room and living
room, finding four dollars worth of loose change. I try the closet
door in the front hallway to make sure it's locked, still thinking
of that box of money, but Uncle hasn't left it open. Then I'm in
the kitchen, putting utensils and appliances back where I found
them, handling them with care since I'm afraid Auntie will notice
something's awry. When I reach the last drawer, I hit pay dirt.
There's a list, but it's in Persian. It's
paper-clipped to six ten dollar bills. Sixty dollars! It's not the
one hundred we're looking for, but it's something.
"Nasreen, I found something!" I say.
She rushes over and smiles. "This looks like
an old shopping list for groceries, sewing stuff, and school
supplies," she says. "I think it's from September. Mom must have
forgotten about it."
"Yeah, or she would have taken it with her
just now."
"According to what you say you have left over
for your trip expenses and considering that Omar fleeced me, we
don't have one hundred dollars, but maybe if we go back to the
store in Brooklyn the guy can lower the price or we can haggle.
Maybe he'll drop the price to seventy-five or eighty."
"But what if your mom notices today or
tomorrow that the money's missing?"
"I don't think she'll notice anytime soon
since it's been here awhile. Also, in a few weeks I can replenish
it. Aunt Latifah is visiting from Buffalo in August, and she always
gives me money when she comes down here. Also, I won't spend a dime
of my allowance."
"Still, a few weeks is a long time."
"Not for my mom," Nasreen says. "She won't
notice it missing right away. Anyway, if she sees something is
gone, she blames jinn. You know, genies? She says they move stuff
to cause mischief."
My parents have warned me about jinn, that
they shift things around people's homes as a prank. Shortly before
I left, my mother lost her sewing kit and blamed it on them. "In
that, case, let's go to Brooklyn, and I'm sure the store owner
can't turn this money down," I say. "Let's go today."
"We'll wait for Mom to come back so I can
tell her we're sightseeing." She says the last word with air
quotes. It's okay since I've seen all of New York's biggest sights
during previous trips. Right now my mind is on the replacement
tape.
"But, maybe there is more money somewhere," I
say.
"We've checked every room. I even checked the
toilet tank, because people keep things in there to hide from
burglars."
"Yuck."
"I checked my dad's desk in the living room.
Really, there's just the closet."
"You're forgetting one place. I know you said
we can't take from him, but at least we can take a peek behind
Omar's curtains."
Nasreen's eyes darken. I also feel a bit ill
thinking about it. Those curtains have come to symbolize something
mysterious and sinister, but I'm still curious. What's behind those
curtains? What does Omar do for hours a day behind them?
"All right," Nasreen says. "Things are so
rocky between me and him that I haven't been there in months."
"Really?" I say.
"Yeah. Let's go though."
Nasreen follows me. When something pokes my
back, I jump up and yelp. She laughs at my fear. "Oooh, the
boogeyman will get you," Nasreen howls in a spooky voice.
"Boooogeyman."
"I don't expect rainbows and butterflies, but
I know we're bound to see something frightening in there."
"You first," she says.
"No, you," I say.
"No... you!"
"All right, all right, I'll go first."
Chapter Thirteen
The curtains are emerald green and shimmery.
In my opinion, they're too good for Omar. He should be living
behind flaps of burlap or something. Auntie hand-sews many things,
and looking at the stitches they look like they're her work. Not
that her sewing is bad or anything, but I can tell the stitches
aren't from a machine. The fabric is something she probably
purchased during
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