A Single Lifetime | Novella

AT MOMENTS LIKE THIS, FAJR HUSANI could only pay attention to one thing: the ticking of the clock. She kept glancing at the one hanging above the cashier and resisting the urge to buy herself some more minutes.

Fajr set down the books she intended to purchase and squinted at the needles of her wristwatch. Out of the thousands she owned, she had picked the one with a mint strap and silver needles today.

A furrow appeared between her brows as she tapped it and wondered, Are the needles moving faster? Is the watch broken? I haven’t worn it in a long time...it could be broken…

She chewed off the corner of her lip, browsing one shelf before stealing another glance at the clock…

Two minutes until this bookstore closes, she thought and nearly kicked one of the shelves in frustration. Couldn’t they stay open for a few more minutes? It’s just us in here…

Kitabs ’n Stuff closed at approximately 9 p.m. Fajr knew this, much like she knew the opening and closing hours of all her favourite places.

“You’re doing it again,” Sura pointed out, pushing her glasses up as she fidgeted with the tassels on her hijab. Fajr started fiddling with her own as she bit into the corner of her lip, perturbed about the minutes she was wasting.

Fajr bit her tongue, not stopping.

The hands showed at 8:59 p.m.

Just five more minutes, she told herself. That’s all I need...five more minutes.

“Oh, no,” Sura said, letting her shoulders slump. “You were biting on your lip, there’s gloss on your teeth…”Fajr felt a churning in her stomach and got a glimpse of her watch. One minute and thirty seconds to eight.

She took a deep breath and only focused her hearing on the clocks. Fajr felt the ticking start to slow and eventually...it stopped.

Her eyes fluttered open and she exhaled, putting a hand on her chest as she pulled out her mother’s pocket watch from inside of her coat.

She waved a hand in front of Sura, who stood frozen in place like everyone and everything else. Only Fajr was free to move.

What twenty-two year old carries a pocket watch anymore? Sura would say to her.

If only I could tell you what it really was, Fajr thought silently and replied only with a grin.

Focus, Fajr scolded herself as she looked around the nearly empty bookstore. Don’t waste time replaying conversations.

Fajr chuckled to herself. Don’t waste time. At. all.

Her mother’s pocket watch–a special inevntion–was the only one that was suitable to use while in infinity. Infinity was what she called the personal time bubble she was able to create.

It was when time slowed down and Fajr was free to do as much as she wanted for as long as she wanted.

The only price was that as Fajr continued to live in her personal time bubble, the rest of the world moved half as fast as they usually do. But Fajr didn’t mind, the women in her family had been doing this for centuries and they all loved having all the time in the world, all to themselves.

“Now,” she spoke to herself, holding up two novels. “Which one should I get?”“Classic or contemporary?” she asked nobody. Over her shoulder, she spotted Sura in the self help section, her hand seemed to be glued to the shelf and her eyes on the books.

Gee, that’s like asking Jane Austen or John Green, Fajr thought and she couldn’t choose.

Fajr squinted through her glasses, attempting to detect the slightest bit of movement from her best friend. Even Sura’s breathing had tardied–much like everyone else besides Fajr. It was her who had made time itself lethargic.

Time was lazy and Fajr commanded it...

She shook her head and told herself to focus as her eyes fell on her mother’s pocket watch.

One minute and ten seconds spent in infinity, she made a mental note.

“I’ll just get both,” she said and moved on to the next shelf. She picked up books without even checking the prices.

You’ll always get your money back, but never your time, her mother would always say. Neither of them had ever been parisimonious. She had that quote framed in her bedroom and recited it each time she felt bad about buying too much of anything.

Her basket was full by the time she reached the counter and checked the pocket watch.

Twenty minutes spent in infinity.

That’s ten minutes in mainstream, which is what Fajr liked to call the normal time frame.

“Crap,” she said under her breath. “The store was supposed to close ten minutes ago.” Fajr’s eyes fell on the old man who worked the cashier and a young girl who had started locking up.

I promised myself only five minutes, she thought, biting her tongue. Husani women were punctual and always on time, keen on not wasting even a nanosecond. Fajr found herself pondering over the clock while performing mundane tasks, to make sure she wasn’t taking too long or too less.

While using her ability, she bent her self made rules just a little. Let her shoulders fall and wallow in the surroundings and take her sweet time.

“Wait…” she stopped herself awkwardly. Sura had turned and was bending down to pick up the book she should be standing next to Sura: where she was before borrowing some more minutes.

Each time Fajr made subtle use of her powers and rushed around, Sura got suspicious.

Although it’s highly unlikely she’d accuse me of being supernatural, Fajr thought with a chuckle. Of course, she wouldn’t. She’d sound insane.

Fajr placed herself a few aisles away from Sura, near the stationary and notepads. Once again, checking her pocket watch.

Twenty minutes and thirty six seconds.

Fajr took a deep breath and braced herself for the chaos to come as her infinity melted away, leaving no wall between her and the mainstream.

“What are you young ladies doing in here?” the old man said, walking over to them.

Sura blinked, trying to find Fajr, who stood innocently with her arms carrying the overflowing basket of novels.

“How’d you get over there?” Sura said, arms akimbo.

“Oh, I walked,” Fajr answered, her lips a thin line.

The old man turned to the girl and scolded, “The store was supposed to close minutes ago!”Fajr checked her watch, “Approximately, ten and a half minutes ago,” she interrupted, whispering the information.

“Here we go…” Sura said, tapping her foot and letting a grin spread on her face.

“It is your job to make sure the store closes and opens on time,” he continued, ignoring what Fajr had said, giving the two friends to tip-toe over to the counter.

“I thought the store was empty,” the girl defended. “I was just locking up…”“Hello,” Fajr said, knocking on the counter with mirth in her eyes. “Anyone here?”

“Stop that,” Sura said through her teeth.

“You mean to tell me that you rushed around the store and I didn’t even notice?” Sura said as they walked down the cobblestone path to the fast food place down the street with a melliflous sound coming from it.

“Umm...you were enthralled by that nonfiction book you dropped,” I said, hoping to change the subject.

Sura remained silent, hauling all the bags from their shopping trip into the restaurant. “Who was the author again? Elizabeth Gilbert, was it?”“Yup,” Sura answered, smacking her lips.

While they waited at a table, Sura fretfully tapped her foot on the black and white tiles.

“I didn’t know you had taken up tap dancing,” Fajr teased, gently kicking her under the table.

“What time is it?”“Eight twenty.”“Just eight twenty?” Sura said, holding her head up with both arms. “You’re not going to give too much information.”“Well, all you had to do was ask,” Fajr replied, but Sura held up a dismissive hand.

“Fajr, as your best friend, I’m going to ask you to please stop being so punctual.”Fajr gasped and clutched her heart. “You better hope my mother didn’t hear that.”“How could she? God knows, she’s not even in the country!”Fajr continued, nonetheless, “There will not be a day when I am not conscious about how much time I am taking up.”Sura blinked at her, as if a loony was sitting in place of her best friend. A waiter set down their burgers and fries.

“Why do you want to know the time anyway? We just got here.”

“I’m supposed to be home before ten.”“You’ve got forty five minutes.”

Should I...Fajr stopped the thought before even completing it.

No.

First at the bookstore.

That’s enough for one day.

Usually, at dinner with her best friend, Fajr would use her power while Sura was talking.

She grinned at the thought, suppressing a chuckle. People looked hilarious in slow motion.

“...but seriously, you’re like The Flash,” Sura finished, making Fajr realize that she had been staring out the window daydreaming. “...or Quicksilver,” Sura continued nonetheless.

“Huh?”

Sura pursed her lips and slumped back into her chair. “You pretty much raced around the bookstore, and then boom!” She banged on the table at the last word and people started eyeing her suspiciously. “You’re standing right next to me. How did that girl not notice us, especially you?”“Umm…” Fajr tightened the corners of her hijab, tapping her fingers on the table, as she looked around as if seeking help. “What can I say, I’m as stealthy as...a cat…”

“A cat?” Sura’s eyebrows arched but her expression clearly said she wasn’t surprised. Fajr could talk about cats all day. If she wasn’t studying literature she’d become a vet.

“Yes, a cat,” Fajr repeated, sipping down her milkshake. “Wait...you saw me racing around the store?”

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “You’re like that sometimes. And I feel like I can’t catch up.”

I’m the one who can’t catch up.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Fajr asked, touching the silver bracelet at her wrist. “I’m actually the slowest.”Sura rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she stood. “Don’t be like that.”“Like what?”Sura stared at Fajr intently. “You sound like that ungratfeul kid in class who gets a ninety-five on the test, but still throws a tantrum.”“Interesting analogy,” Fajr said slowly. “But, I disagree. Trust me, I waste time too…”Her heart gave a pang of dejection.

Sura let out a sound that might have been a laugh. “Oh, I know that.”

“You do?” Fajr said, delightful all of a sudden.

“You spend half your time glancing at the clock and at your watch,” Sura lectured. “And, she says she doesn’t like wasting time. Are you not wasting time by worrying about wasting time?”

Fajr gulped as perspiration beaded her forehead and stained her inner cap she wore to stabilize her hijab.

Was I wasting time?

No…

Impossible!

I never waste time…

She didn’t realize how fast her breathing had gotten until Sura gently placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a firm shake.

“Are you okay, Fajr?” she asked, but her voice had become distant. Fajr was staring at the digital clock above the door. “Fajr?” Another shake and Fajr blinked, getting to her feet.

“We should be heading home now.”

Before exiting, Fajr glanced once more at the clock, matching it with the time shown on her wrist watch. 9: 30 p.m.

“I’m so late!” Sura said, but still she insisted on walking.

“Are you ever going to use that car of yours?”“It’s not actually mine, you know,” she said, dodging the question. “I don’t like driving. Or, being in enclosced spaces.”

Fajr pressed her lips together and thought, If only we had the same gift...you’d never need to catch up.