A Single Lifetime | Novella

ZAREEN STOPPED HERSELF, WITH ONE HAND on the door knob to the conference room, she checked the time. It starts at 7:00 a.m. sharp, she recalled. And she was expected to be there by 6:45 a.m.

“I’ve got time,” she said under her breath. And I’m not going to waste it by getting there early. Zareen was a punctual woman. She was never early, never late, but just on time.

She had already consumed two cups of coffee since she woke up, and going to the hotel dining hall would make her late to the conference.

Instead, she put down her heavy bags and checked her emails. Traveling around the world had made Zareen find new ways to save time by being productive. She would write emails at airpots, scribble research notes in bathrooms and organize her taks into lists on unsteady cab rides.

6: 30 a.m. Her eyes darted over to her wrist watch. Don’t get distracted, she told herself as she scrolled through her notifications.

From Fajr Husani.

Zareen gulped as she opened the email her daughter had sent. Suddenly, the perspiration on herforehead dried up and her heartbeat steadied. Zareen loved hearing from Fajr, even if it was just a long boring email.

6: 35 a.m. She checked the time while skimming through her daughters typed up words. Ten minutes.

Zareen started shaking as her eyes ran over the last line: Let me know what you think.

“I think you’re out of your mind,” she said, barely audible. 6:40 a.m.

She went over the email again, trying to read in between the lines. Trying to pick up a secret code to decipher, something that would tell her what had made Fajr have such an idea.

Don’t get me wrong, I want you to experiment. Just be careful.

6:44:58

She switched off her phone, checking to make sure her hijab was tight enough to survive a four hour long conference. Fajr’s email hadn’t helped with Zareen’s nerves. She was always askew the day of a conference or presentation.

“Right on time,” someone said with a welcoming grin, as Zareen’s presence filled the room.

Zareen felt every drop of water as it ran down her throat. She sucked in a breath, then exhaled.

Five minutes. This plane was supposed to take off five minutes ago.

She stared out the window, resting her chin on her hand. The wheels turned in her head as she calculated how long it would take for her to get back to Kipmal.

Six hours in the air.

Eight minutes to get off the plane.

Five to find luggage.

She had already booked the cab in advance. If it were Fajr, she would have used infinity to do all these things. But according to Zareen, that wasn’t how one should save time. She thought that using their powers should be the last resort.

If you’re in a situation where you’re using your power, it means you have wasted time. You’re not saving time by stepping into your own time bubble, you’re slowing it down.

Zareen knew from the start that her daughter would have trouble understanding those statements.

The irony is that Husani women have always felt like they didn’t have enough time. Even when they have the power to slow it down.

The thought of booking a train from the airport to her hometown, Asali crossed her mind but it would only take up more of her time. A cab ride would take...thirty minutes.

Zareen muttered the numbers under her breath as she added. Fifty minutes. She would spend less than an hour before getting home.

She went over her notes from the conference and started making her to-do list. Fajr had no clue her mother was coming home. All of her visits were surprises, but this time Zareen had a lot to tell her daughter.

“That was a long day…” Sura said, on the verge of whining. “We’re still going though, right?” she added as Fajr nodded in agreement.

“See you there.”

“I thought we were going from here.”Lost in a reverie, Fajr trodded away and got into her car. Amma, answer the phone, is all she could think as she typed up a message to her mother.

Her hungry cats gathered at her feet as she walked through the door. She had already filled up their food bowls and decided to carry Aurora in her arms as she switched on the TV.

Fajr scrolled through the various shows and movies she had saved on Netflix. Too many to watch…

In the end she put cat vidoes on YouTube to keep Lorelai and Aurora occupied. The two jumped onto the couch and played with their balls of yarn while Fajr stepped into the shower.

She and Sura had agreed to meet at the local markets. Of course, the place they spent the most time in was Kitaabs ’n Stuff but a lump formed in Fajr’s throat as she thought of her neverending reading list and the unread books she had piling up around her room.

And I have the audacity to buy more…

On her nightstand were two books: Frankenstein by Mary Shelly and Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. She had to read one for school and the other she could basically act out since she had read many times since the age of sixteen.

Too many things and too little time, she spoke internally, shaking her head. She pulled on some loose jeans and a pale pink shirt that covered her thighs. With a golden watch and other chunks of jewelry, she caked her face with cosmetics in an attempt to hide her worrisome yet thoughtful countenance.

As she closed the door to her wardrobe, her eyes fell on all the articles of clothing she hadn’t even touched. She never got the chance to.

So many clothes. More than she could count.

Clothes that were too tight, clothes that were too loose. It was hard for her to find clothes that fit her size. That’s what had made her learn sewing. So she could design her own.

Fajr and her mom had the same voluptuous body shape, so they’d share clothes and scarves.

When will I ever wear these?

If Sura hadn’t called right that second, she would have gotten lost thinking about her unwatched movies, unread books and the poems she said she would write. She had been working on some for a few years now, but she didn’t have a proper collection of them.

“Be there in five.”

In her own time bubble, Fajr stood with her arms crossed, reading off the authors on her bookshelf.

L.M. Montgomery.

John Green.

Victoria Aveyward.

Jane Austen.

It was a mix between the eras. A frown appeared on her face as she realized that her organizinzation had been spoiled. She wasn’t fond of the way it looked now.

She placed them after checking their release date. Books from the 1800s to present day could be found on those shelves.

Fajr thought about reorganizing them, since they were spilling out onto the carpet, stacked neatly underneath her bed…

But she had promised to meet Sura in five minutes…

Zareen had yawned in the cab, the entire way to her house she debated on whether she should call Fajr and tell her she was coming…

She got out her notebook and went over the ideas she wanted to show to Fajr. Names. Names for people like them.

When the car stopped in front of her house she thought, too late now. She still had to give her daughter a call once she realized Fajr wasn’t at home.

Zareen let herself smile at the sight and comfort her own house brought her. Better than any five-star hotel room.

She picked up both Lorelai and Aurora, one in each hand and kissed their heads.

“Mama’s home!” she said, her voice echoing.

Zareen noticed every detail of her house. The way Fajr had kept her bedroom the same, probably because most of the time even Zareen didn’t know when she would be home. Her daughter had kept it untouched and preserved, as if it were a shrine.

The rest of the house seemed spotless and the way Fajr was living was exactly how she had wanted her daughter to live. With a beaming smile on her face, she peeled off her clothes and stepped into the shower. Scrubbing away all the filth and toxins that she carried from her travels.

“I need new hijabs,” Sura groaned, walking over to a stall selling scarves for the coming season. Warm enough to keep out the cold and cover all the good stuff.

“I could use some more too,” Fajr lied, speaking in a hoarse voice. Recalling her overflowing closet at home, she scanned the scarves, trying to find something to her taste.

I should put a taboo on shopping, Fajr thought as she hauled her bags to the car.

As usual, the longest took the bookshop after they had done with the local markets. Once they were in the car, Sura spotted a small cafe they used to go to and decided to spend the rest of the evening there.

“Chai or coffee?” Fajr asked, elbows on the table with an eyebrow raised.

“Is that a serious question?” Sura said with a snort.

“I don’t joke about beverages.”“Coffee all the way...duh!”“Well, you just cheated on your darling coffee for a tradional cup of chai,” Fajr said as she sipped the last bit from her own cup.

“They only serve chai,” she pointed out, going over the menu once more. The first time she looked at what they had here, she whispered over to Fajr: “Can you believe they don’t have chai here? They have jalebis but they don’t have coffee...who does that?”“Sura, calm down,” she almost laughed, looking around to make sure no one had heard her friend lose her mind because she didn’t get coffee.

“Calm down, she says,” Sura repeated, exhaling.

“You’ve had about four cups today...drink water,” Fajr advised, suppressing her laughter.

Sura started tracing the henna lines on her hands as they drove, slow enough for their small town roads. The sound of rain falling onto the car window brought back Sura’s attention.

“Oh Lord…” she gasped and she jolted up. “It’s raining. It’s actually raining! Thank God. I was up all night literally manifesting the rain.”

“You should have prayed instead, it’s much better,” Fajr advised.

“It’s been a whole week since the last time it rained. I missed the rain...I missed it so much I could cry.”

Fajr could swear she saw Sura dab at her eyes, smudging the kajol and mascara.

“Are you actually crying right now?” Fajr laughed hysterically, while trying to keep her hands steadily on the wheel.

“I do pity people who aren’t in love with the rain. The moody weather it brings,” Sura said, with her eyes closed and a hand over her heart.

“You’re doing it again,” Fajr pointed out, shaking her head as the sides of her mout rose higher.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Sura toyed with the hem of her beige shirt as she gazed out the window.

“The thing where you talk like Anne with an ‘e’”

“She is my inspiration for living. That girl was just…” Sura made a fist and bit into it. It’s what she did when she loved something so much it left her speechless. Her eyes got all watery and red too.

“And there’s nothing wrong with Anne with an ‘e’–”“I never said that there was,” Fajr interjected.

“–you go on and on about those Jo and Laurie fanfictions. You could write a whole paper on what could’ve happened. I’m the only one with permanent obsessions.”

“Keep romantiscizing things,” Fajr said with a sigh and a melancholy smile.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she warned, gazing out at the droplets of water falling from the sky as if they were the most precious things in the world.

“No, I really mean it. Keep romantiscing things,” Fajr repeated, wanting to freeze this moment. “Life’s too short.”“I wish it would rain for the rest of the night. And tomorrow, so at least I’ll be excited to wake up.”“Yeah…” Fajr agreed as she pulled up on the side of the road. She touched the bracelet at her wrist, the one with an infinity symbol. It glittered in the dim light of the evening. She shut her eyes, pulling back the strings of time.

Now, Fajr exhaled and let her shoulders fall. She pressed her back against the curve of the carseat. Sura’s hands were out the window and her round face was beaming.

The drizzle outside was slowly turning into a storm. Asali got a lot of rainstorms this time of year. It’s what brought in the cold.

Other cars on the street seemed to be frozen in place, like the rain. Droplets poured down. One by one…

Fajr got out of the car, leaving the door open and she exposed herself to the water. She didn’t care whether her clothes were spoiled or if her makeup was running. She just enjoyed the moment.

In her pocket, her phone buzzed with messages from her mother.

Where are you?

Come hom<3

“So, for dinner I was thinking…” Zareen started talking in the traditional tongue and with the hint of a smile on her face, Fajr listened. At the kitchen counter, hand on her chin as she reveled in the sound of her mother’s soft voice.

Fajr watched her move around the kitchen. She had definitely taken after her. The way she set up the plates and the way she complained about the rancid milk.

Her long brown hair was damp from her shower, she was back in her pajamas and had terrible circles under her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back, Amma. I wish I could just freeze time so you could stay here forever.” Zareen tried not to react too harshly to that. “No place. No place, I tell you, feels like Asali.”

“Then why do you leave?” Fajr mumbled, a piece of honeyed toast in her mouth.

“You’re going to get a sugar rush,” her mother warned.

“I’ll live.”

“Look at this,” Zareen said as she slid her notebook to her daughter. Fajr’s eyes widened before she even got the chance to read it.

“What is this?”

“Names…”Fajr made a face. “For whom?”

“For people like us,” Zareen said. “Extentives, Kairotics, Chronos...my list goes on.”

“So...you found more people like us?” Fajr perked up, nearly falling off the stool.

“I didn’t say that,” she answered and Fajr pouted. “I just thought that it would be good to have a name, even amongst ourselves.”

“Extentives.”

“Really?” Zareen grinned like Cheshire cat as if she had hoped Fajr would pick that one.

“People like us, people who can freeze time or...basically anything cool like that, we can call them Extentives.”

“But…” Zareen prompted, sensing there was more.

“But, people who have the same power as us, can be called Kairotics. Relating to time. And as we find more Extentives we’ll create groups or orders.”

“Slow down,” she said, pulling out a stool. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. If we’re going to find more people like us, we need help.”

“We can’t tell anyone.”

“Not just anyone,” her mother corrected and Fajr’s heart fell into her stomach. “And we need proof. I’ve...been experimenting, but there’s nothing I can do so far with my powers that makes other people aware of it. So, I just stuck to my usual research with my team because they were starting to get suspicious.”

“We’ll get it,” she reassured. “You’re a Husani woman, you can do it.” Zareen laughed, throwing back her head. Her eyes trailed over to the kitchen window, like Sura she admired the rainstorm outside. “If I could rename you, I’d call you Barish.”

Fajr choked, trying no to giggle. “Doesn’t that mean rain in the old language?”

“It does.”“Amma, that’s not even a real name.”

“Says who?”

“Anyways, who were you experimetning with?” Fajr asked after a moment of silence.

“How do you know it wasn’t just me by myself?”

“Because it sounds like you told someone...something.”

“I didn’t actually tell anyone.”

“Okay. And…”

“Your Baba was there.”Fajr’s eyebrows rose with interest. Zareen had married a scientist like herself. But Fajr hardly saw her father anymore. She had very little memory of him. His work took him all over the world like Zareen. The two were still together, but Fajr never actually got to see them together.

“Were you two working together?” Fajr said, sounding hopeful.

“A few weeks ago, yes. And we spent a lot of time together…” Fajr nudged her mother, encouraging her to tell the rest of the story. “I almost told him...because I don’t like keeping secrets from him. Then I thought: what am I doing? He’s going to think I’m crazy.”

“And did he?”

“Huh?” Zareen always trailed off when talking about her husband. Like she was ruminating about the time they were together. “No. Because I didn’t tell him.”

“Probably a nice move.”

“But, when we were at dinner–”“–you had dinner?” Fajr said, squealing and Zareen rolled her eyes.

“–I wanted to see what would happen if I...froze the moment. He was talking and I was just sitting there. In a restaurant full of people, I used my powers…”

“That does not sound like you, Amma,” Fajr said, shaking her head disapporvingly. “I don’t like what this man is doing to you.” Zareen clicked her tongue and Fajr laughed so hard her stomach hurt. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Yeah sure. Because I’ll never get the chance to tell him myself anyway…”“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I didn’t mean it like that. Go on…”

“Then I stopped using my powers,” she continued. “I asked him if he had felt anything different or off. He said nothing out of the ordinary.”

“That’s not possible.”

“What do you mean?” Zareen knitted her eyebrows.

“Sura was here a few days ago and the house was a mess–”“On your watch. I’m shocked,” Zareen interrupted.

“–so I froze time to clean up, while she was there and when I was done. Sura said that she felt...slower than me.”Zareen grabbed her daughter by the arm, shaking her slightly. “She felt slower?”Fajr bit her lip, trying to quote her friend’s exact words. “She didn’t exactly say that, she said that I looked like I was rushing around. Like, moving faster than everyone else. Her nicknames for me are Quicksilver and The Flash.” Fajr snorted at the irony. “If only she knew that she was the one going slower.”

“Isn’t that what those two superheroes do? Everyone else is just slower?” Fajr made a face and shook her head. “No, they’re the ones going faster.”

“So, with our powers, the power that makes us age slowly and allows us to have infinite amounts of time. Do you think we’re going faster or slower?”

“Slower, obviously.” But Fajr sensed that she was asking questions to teach her a lesson. Zareen always did that with her when she was younger. She asked questions and made Fajr answer them in order for her to realize something.

“Do you ever wish you could speed it up?”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Fajr said.

“To see what happens next. To just get it over with,” Zareen suggested.

“I love this life too much to just get it over with. And if I could freeze it in place, I would.”