“I don’t think I can climb these steps,” Jill said flatly. There were two concrete steps in front of the entrance. I realized that if she tried to climb the steps, she would probably trip. Her immobilized hip joint made her dangerously clumsy. Actually, she was able to move her casted leg only by moving her upper body. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you going to help me or not?” she said with irritation. “Sorry, I was contemplating some mechanical problem.” She leaned the crutches on the wall, then I wrapped my hands around her back. We stepped up onto the steps in an awkward dance. The feeling of her body pressed against mine awakened sweet memories. Then, her face contorted as her casted leg bumped against my shin. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I muttered. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said and retrieved her crutches as I was holding the door open for her. In the elevator, I noticed a strip of white gauzy material hanging under the hem of her dress. I took it and crumpled it. It settled on the horizon as Tariq traveled to Drakni Drive. His urge was to say his prayers out of routine, to celebrate the victory of the evening over the heat.The breeze carried a brutal warmth he should have been used to. Imam Shabbir Hussein’s home emanated the smells of a dead man. The pungency had increased ten fold. He pinched his nose. Vultures circled overhead. A flock of ravens flew from bush to bush. Tariq carried a white sack filled with white cloth, vials of non alcoholic perfumes, and instructions for burial.He knocked once, then twice.“Ah, my prayers have been answered,” cried Shrika.“How can you stand it?” asked Tariq.“Even death is holy, my holiness.”“Death, yes, but this smell? How can you stand it?”“It doesn’t bother me. For years before my dear Imam employed me, I used to smell this smell every day. In a strange way it reminds me of my younger years.”“Oh Shrika, only you could find holiness out of something so repulsive. How long has the body been out?”“At least.
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