Flower Scarf

A high school girl flies to Atlanta for a national exchange program. She hopes for a nice home she can call a second family.

“Mom, I’m so nervous.  What if they don’t like me?”  My question was muffled by my mom’s shoulder as she held me in her arms.  “Or worse; what if they root for the Falcons?”

My mother chuckled softly and I smiled into her shoulder.

“Oh honey, they are going to love you.”  She rubbed my back.  “And I’m sure they like our Patriots.”

We were in the airport in Maine, closest to our home.  People brushed past us, all in a hurry; like a thousand ants going to their own destinations in an anthill.  I looked up into my mother’s beautiful brown eyes, and I saw the sea of kindness I always found solace in.  Her eyes began to swell with tears, and I hugged her again, clinging to her as I felt my own eyes brim.

“It’s only a semester.  But I’ll miss you, mom.”

“I’ll miss you terribly, Ana, but this will be a great adventure for you.  You are going to skype me at least once a week, though, right?”

“Right.”  I smiled at her and grabbed the handle on my suitcase.  “Please don’t forget to feed my hamster!”

“I would never.”  My mom rubbed my cheek with her thumb and blinked a few times to stop the tears.  She looked over at the entrance to security and back at me.  “Now, go.  You can’t be late.  I love you, Ana.  I am so proud of you for wanting to explore the country.”

“I love you too, Mom.  I’ll call you when I get there!”

And before I could stop myself, I turned and got in line for security.  My mom waited until I had shown the guard my ID and my pass, and I waved to her before getting in line for the metal detector.

I was still composing myself when a guard selected me for a special screening.  I shrugged internally, knowing I had nothing to hide.  A few others were selected as well, and we had to wait an extra 10 minutes to get through security.  I swallowed my annoyance and smiled as they finally let me pass, and I got onto the tram.

There was a family on my tram, and the young girl with them, probably around four, pointed at my head and whispered to her mom.  I was used to this, so I smiled politely to the family and waved at the girl.  The tension in the family’s shoulders relaxed and I broke the ice.

“I like your blue Barbie backpack!  Blue is my favorite color.”  I pointed to my blue scarf.  “What is your favorite color?”

The young girl hugged her backpack.  “Blue is my favorite too.” 

I smiled at her and she smiled timidly back.

I waited for my plane for half an hour, reading my favorite book.  When we got on the plane for Atlanta, I was lucky enough to find a window seat, and I settled in for the couple hour flight.  The plane seemed to be nearing full, but no one came to sit next to me.  That is alright; I just get to spread out more.

My nerves began to act up as we began to descend in Atlanta.  How can someone feel so incredibly excited to meet a new family, but also be terrified at the same time?  I tried to take deep breaths as the plane landed and we began to make our way out of the plane.

I stepped off the platform and breathed in deeply, taking in the sight of the Atlanta airport.  I followed the signs and left security, and I searched around for the family I saw in the photos.  And there they were!  The mother and father, Beth and John, and their two kids, Emma and James, were there waiting for me, with my checked suitcase.  I smiled at them and waved, and they walked towards me as I left security.

“Hello, Ana!  I’m Beth, and this is John, Emma, and James.”

“Hello Mrs. Beth, hello everyone!  It is so wonderful to finally meet you all!”

The two kids were young; Emma who was 6 and James who was 4.  I knelt down and waved to them.

“Hello, Emma and James!  I’m so happy to meet you.  We are going to be hanging out together!”

The two kids came into my open arms and I gave them hugs.  I then gave Beth a hug and John one.  

“Kids, this is your new nanny; Ana.  She will be going to school and living with us for the next few months.”

“I’m so excited to see Georgia; I’ve never been outside Maine before.”  I smiled at the kids.  “Have you ever seen snow before?”

They nodded timidly, and Beth explained.

“It snowed an inch last year, but it melted fast.”

“In Maine, it snows feet and feet high.  Once, the snow got as high as the roof!”

James’ eyes widened, and Emma spoke up.

“How many snowmen did you make?”

“Oh, probably 10 or so.  When you get older, you can come visit me in Maine and make 10 snowmen.  How does that sound?”

Both kids smiled and nodded, and Beth smiled as well.

That night, Beth made a wonderful spaghetti dinner.  I asked the kids to help me set the table, and we settled in for a delicious meal.  John was stuck at work; Beth saved some for him later.  

“Ana, I love your hijab; those flowers are beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Beth.  My mom got me a set of flower ones for my birthday.”

“Why do you wear that?”  Asked Emma.  I smiled at her and explained.

“It is a part of my religion and culture.  My mother and her mother wore one.  Also, I think they are cute!  Do you like flowers?”

Emma nodded, and James spoke up.

“Do they have transformers ones?”

“Oh, I’m sure they do, James.”

We finished dinner, and I washed the dishes as Emma and James brought them over to me in the kitchen.  The kids showed me their perspective rooms, and I helped them get into bed.  I asked James about his favorite Transformers, and Emma told me about her best friend, Ashley.  Once they had been tucked in to bed, I went back out and found Beth sitting alone at the table, a glass of wine in hand.

“Thank you, Ana, for getting them ready for bed.  You are already a huge help.”

“Of course, Mrs. Beth.”  I moved to sit down next to her.  “Are you alright?”

She sighed deeply and sipped her wine.  She rubbed her forehead, and looked up at me apologetically. 

“I’m fine, thank you, Ana.”  She peered over my shoulder, to check if the kids were asleep or not.  “I’m just upset with my husband.”

I touched her shoulder sympathetically, and she smiled towards me, with her eyes averted.  She opened her mouth a few times and tried to start explaining, and she frowned and sighed when she finally found the words.

“My husband, is…”  She looked away.  “He is very closed-minded.  He has an irrational fear of Islam.”

I nodded in understanding.  This was nothing new.  I had sensed how reserved he was at the airport.  

“I didn’t tell him about your religion when I told him we had found a match for your national exchange program.  After reading your profile, I knew how wonderful you must be, and I hoped that getting to know a nice girl like you would help get rid of his fear.”

“I appreciate you telling me, Mrs. Beth.  And I agree, I’m glad I get to help your husband by showing him that we are just people like anyone else, with the same love and fears.”

Beth grasped my hands and smiled at me.  But she still looked worried.

“Thank you, Ana, for being so patient and understanding.  This was a big move for me, so John may be angry with me for a while, but I really hope this will help him see that his fear is irrational.”

“I understand.”  I hugged Beth then, and feeling much closer to this family already, I bid her goodnight as I headed to the guest room that would be mine for a semester.  It was on the other side of the rest of the rooms, next to the garage, but it had a nice window and essential furniture.  The bed was already made for me, and I smiled and settled in for the night after unpacking some of my things.  The next day was my first day at a new school, and I finally fell asleep, excited for the new day.

That is, until I woke up in the middle of the night from a hand covering my mouth.

I blinked my eyes open and my heart kick-started into overdrive.  I tried to turn my head to relieve the pressure but the hand held me firmly in place.  The hand was large and rough.  I focused my eyes and beheld Mr. John, still in his work clothes, looming over me and shifting his hand from just covering my mouth but now also covering my nose.  I couldn’t breathe, and all I could see was the pure fear in his eyes.

I screamed a muffled yell and began to fight back, scratching at his hands and arms and thrashing my legs around, trying to get leverage on anything.  When my struggling didn’t work, I stared into his eyes until he made eye contact with me, and I pleaded to him to stop with my expression.

He began to cry.

At first his expression turned from one of anger to one of pure fear, then to one of sadness as a few tears escaped his bright blue’s.  I began to cry too, mostly from fear but partially from pain.  

When he felt my sobs through his hand, his tears came faster, and his eyebrows upturned in confusion.  I felt the slickness of his blood on his arms and hands from my scratching, and I stopped trying to hurt him, instead holding his wrist and continuing to look at him and plead.  

His pressure decreased when I stopped fighting, and I began to pull his hand away from my mouth.  He let me, after a moment, and I gasped in air and unconsciously backed away as I breathed in heavily.  I watched his crying turn into sobs, and he backed away from me into a corner, then slide down against the wall with his head in his hands.  His sobs grew louder and heavier, and I was shocked into place, knowing I should be running or grabbing a lamp or something to defend myself, but all I could do was stare at this man, completely unhinged and afraid over me, a highschool girl.  

We stayed in our positions for a solid couple of minutes, both of us staring at each other in fear, both of us crying in pain, in frustration, in confusion, in fear.  Finally, when his sobbing stopped, he spoke in a quiet voice.

“I…couldn’t.  My friends said it would be easy.  But I couldn’t, you…you remind me too much of my own daughter.”

Author's Note

Thank you for reading. I would appreciate constructive criticism, especially in my diction and dialogue, and in my tone. Thank you!