Love from a to Z

ADAM
TUESDAY, MARCH 12
MARVEL:
STRANGERS
I
N THE MIDDLE OF THE
movie at Villaggio Mall my eyes clouded over.
Like they were covered with a thick layer of jelly.
I rubbed them, sure something had gotten into them, but nothing
changed.
The headache, present since this morning turned drill-like, boring into the
back of my eyes as I turned them to check if it was the same peripherally.
Peripheral was worse.
Like multiple knife jabs at once.
I felt nauseous with the pain.
I got up and squeezed my way past Connor, Tsetso, Jacob, and Madison,
almost stumbling in the aisle before I realized I should turn on my phone
for its light. I then made it halfway before remembering Connor. He would
stalk me like a tiger unless I let him know what was up.
I backed up slowly, feeling my way along the aisle seat backs—not due
to the dark but to my blurred vision.
“Hey, just going to the bathroom, then sitting in the back,” I whispered in
his general direction.
He nodded. Or at least I think it was him.
In the bathroom, after heaving emptiness and waiting for the nausea to
ease up, I washed my face a few times, really rinsing my eyes out,
examining them in the mirror.
There was nothing there, but it literally felt as though I were looking at
my reflection through a thick layer of Vaseline.
I had to get home.

---

• • •
I took a taxi, one of the many assembled at the exits of the mall, praying
that the door was not locked at home. That Marta, our cleaning person, had
left it that way.
There was no way I could fit a key into a keyhole.
As it was, I could see shapes of things blurring by out the window,
objects looming as we neared a stop, like now, at the traffic lights. I tried to
concentrate on looking straight ahead, to reduce the pain that struck me
every time I moved my eyes.
“Are you okay, sir?” The driver turned to look at me.
I shook my head. “I just have a headache.”
“Okay, want to stop for water? Store right here. Tea or water. They’ll
have it.”
He must have meant one of the many chai stations they have around
Doha.
“No, it’s okay. I just need to lie down.”
“I’ll get you home quickly, sir.”
Maybe he could help me. Maybe I could ask him.
He doesn’t know me.
“Can you wait after you drop me?” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound
desperate. “I may need help with opening my door.”
“Certainly I will.” He nodded at me. “My name is Zahid.”
“Thank you,” I said, my shoulders relaxing. “I’m Adam.”
I’ll have help.
The front door was locked. Zahid used my keys and opened it for me. I
turned to thank him so he could leave, but he didn’t let me. Instead, he held
on to my arm and led me into the sunken living room, easing me slowly
down the steps.
I needed the help of his hands, as the tingling returned with a vengeance,
running its fingers along my legs and arms as my eyes continued being
assaulted by a thousand cuts.
I wondered briefly if I’d leaned too heavily on him as he brought me to
the couch.
Grateful for him, for the cushioned welcome for my body, for reaching
home, I lay down, afraid.
Afraid of what else was to come.

---

Zahid left but came back with a tall glass of water. “Drink this—maybe it
is the heat. You need some hydration maybe.”
I took some sips, wondering how you tell a stranger that you don’t want
to be left alone.
• • •
Zahid helped me up the stairs to my room, where I paid him for the ride. He
wouldn’t take the enormous tip I offered.
“You hurt me to give me a tip for being as I should be.” He jotted down
his number in case I ever needed his taxi again, then left.
I slept and slept. Whenever I woke, my eyes would fly open to check if it
was gone, the thing covering my eyes, whether the pain had gone, but it was
still the same, so finally, after the fifth time, I pulled the cover right over my
head and slept more.
At one point I heard Dad opening my bedroom door, heard Hanna say,
“Why is he sleeping now? It’s seven o’clock.”
“Shh, let him sleep. He’s been working in the room downstairs, painting,
so he must be tired.”
“Are we still ordering pizza? I want—” The door closed.
I slept until the dark became light outside my window, until it was a new
day. I listened for sounds to make sure Dad and Hanna had left for school.
Then I got up.
And fell.
My legs weren’t legs. They were noodles.

---