Saleem wanted to offer her the same encouragement. He wanted to give her the same kindness. He faltered, then reached out and put a hand on her knee.
“You are strong, Mimi. You’ll find a way. Something good come for you too. People help me to come here. You help me. God give the same help for you. Somebody will help you.” Saleem heard the hollowness of his words.
“There is no one to help me. He take my money. I know he never let me go. He control everything.”
Saleem felt his body tighten. Mimi, in all her frailty, still found a way to share. He could be more than what he was. Empty pockets did not mean an empty soul.
“He does not control me,” Saleem said. “Help me find Burim, Mimi.”
She covered his hand with her own and looked at him. She wanted to believe him, to believe every word of what he was saying even if only for a moment. She touched Saleem’s cheek. His stomach dropped to feel her cool, thin fingers on his face. She touched his other cheek and his eyes closed. He imagined Mimi of long ago, a young girl who smiled and laughed with her sisters. He pictured a girl unsullied. He pictured the girl she’d been before the world had crushed her.
Mimi took his hands. Saleem sat on the bed beside her. He let his fingers intertwine with hers before sliding up her arms. He found her shoulders, the milky skin of her neck. Her hands pulled his face to hers, her breath teasing his cheeks. She brought her mouth to his.
She led, Saleem followed. He was timid and nervous but she reassured him with her whispers, the lightness of her touch. She coaxed him and he felt himself becoming a person capable of surprising things. He touched the bruises on her ribs lightly. Her eyes fluttered. There were other bruises, ones her clothing had hidden. He wanted to apologize a thousand times over. He pressed his face against her chest and heard her heart beat, slow and steady. His own heart pounded, untamed and eager.
He was riveted by her flesh. He hesitated, his hands fumbling for the right answers. His inadequacy did not seem to bother her. She welcomed him, making him believe that there was a way he could feel something other than loneliness and hurt.
Saleem turned to his side and traced the length of her arm. Mimi, the girl who needed saving, had saved him. It was only then, as his breathing cooled and slowed, as his muscles relaxed and regrouped, that he let his eyes drift upward to her face, expressionless and passive. It was only then that Saleem realized the bright and hopeful Mimi he’d pictured when he’d closed his eyes did not exist and probably never had.
CHAPTER 50. Saleem
HE WAITED IN THE DARK. MIMI MADE FLEETING EYE CONTACT with him from across the street. Saleem watched for her to pull at her skirt, the signal they had arranged. She stood apart from the others, purposely ignoring the cars that slowed near her. Not tonight.
Two hours later, she gave the sign.
They had planned it yesterday, while Saleem was still half naked, half intoxicated from her touch. It had to be fast and, like so much of Saleem’s activities, it had to be in the night.
The signal. A surge of adrenaline raced through Saleem’s body. There was Burim, sauntering down the street toward Mimi. Saleem waited, then emerged from behind the building’s corner. He jogged, keeping his footsteps light, and crossed the street, half a block behind Burim.
You are not a coward.
Saleem said the words again and again, egging himself on. It had been his idea and he could not turn back. He would make this happen. He was tired of things happening to him, as if he were an object instead of a man. The moment was here. Just as Mimi had guessed, Burim was coming to check on her.
Saleem was behind him, ducking away from streetlamps and staying close to the building fronts. Burim was talking to Mimi. She was fidgeting, her eyes darting nervously and her shoulders pulled together.
I looked just as weak to him. No more.
Saleem slipped behind an empty newsstand. His fingers tightened around the one-foot length of rusted metal pipe he’d brought with him. He could hear Burim speaking to Mimi. His voice rose. He was getting angrier. Mimi mumbled a reply. Burim snickered.
Saleem took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the stand. He swung and brought the pipe crashing down against Burim’s ribs. Burim reeled and stumbled forward. Before he could spin around Saleem struck another blow and kicked behind Burim’s left knee with just enough force to bring him down. Burim howled in anger.
Mimi had shrunk to the side, her back against the wall and her expression hollow. Burim rolled onto his back and groaned. He looked up to see Saleem hovering over him, the pipe held with both hands, poised and ready. Saleem’s chest heaved with each breath. Mimi approached and stood alongside Saleem.
“You. . you. . bitch,” Burim spat.
Saleem saw the rage in Burim’s face as his right hand reached into his jacket pocket. He withdrew a compact, black pistol, but before he could take aim, Saleem swung the pipe at Burim’s hand and sent the gun flying. Burim cursed, holding one hand with the other.
“You are dead. . you make mistake. .”
He stumbled onto his hands and knees and looked up at Mimi. He hissed something in Albanian, words that pulled her blank stare into one of rage.
“Watch what I will do to you!” Burim was crouched, nearly up on his feet.
Saleem saw Mimi’s outstretched arms. She said a few words and spat at him, her voice trembling.
Burim lunged in her direction with a growl. Saleem realized what was happening, and the pipe slipped from his fingers, clanging loudly to the ground.
“Mimi!” he shouted.
There was a pop. Burim stopped in his tracks and spun around so that he was looking directly into Saleem’s bewildered eyes.
Saleem jumped back. He looked from Burim to Mimi.
She was shaking. She dropped the gun and covered her mouth with her hands. She looked at Saleem.
The street was empty. The nearest cars were two blocks away. Two or three lights had turned on in the building windows. Those who slept lightly were beginning to stir. Mimi recovered first. She kneeled over Burim and dug into his pockets, grabbed his wallet, and snapped the gold chain off his thick neck. He moaned softly but offered no resistance.
She stole a glance over her shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
They took off, weaving around buildings and turning into dark streets to put distance between them and Burim.
They were silent as they fled. Panting. Looking over their shoulders.
“Wait,” Mimi finally said. She put her hands on her knees and leaned forward to catch her breath. “I need to stop.”
She looked ghastly pale, even under the yellow glow of a lantern. Saleem knew he must look the same. Things had gone terribly wrong. Burim was not supposed to have seen his attacker. Mimi was supposed to look surprised and helpless at the attack. But Burim had seen their faces, had realized they had duped him, conspired against him.
“Mimi, we need to hide.”
They went to her apartment. She quickly tossed a stack of folded clothes from the chair into a duffel bag.
She’d had no intention of staying here after tonight, Saleem realized.
CHAPTER 51. Saleem
SALEEM AND MIMI WAITED UNTIL AFTERNOON TO GO TO THE apartment building she had pointed out.
“I wait here for you,” she said and pointed to a bench half a block away. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and blew on them. The sun did little to warm her.