Where is Manar?
Book One: The Twin Star
Chapter 10: The Fall (Or: How I Learned to Fear Breakfast)
—
If someone asks why all monks are bald, your answer will be: because their barber only knows one haircut.
Let me correct that for you. You're wrong.
First, monks learn to adapt to hardship — at least, that's what I see in movies. Then they fight adversity through training regimens designed by ancient Masons. After years of suffering and wasted patience, they lose their hair. That's the real reason they're bald.
And now — why am I philosophizing at you?
Simple: I'm about to become a monk myself. From sheer patience. Look at my hair. Son of a shoe! It's turning gray. When I run my hand through it, half of it falls out. I'm going bald, I swear by all the divorced women.
The problem started yesterday. Let me tell you about it.
—
Last night at dinner, my father — the Leader, the Hero, the Commander, yes, and I repeat, the Hero and Commander — sent me an encrypted message. The text was as follows:
[WhatsApp: The Commander]
Sami try not to come home early today ✓✓
[WhatsApp: The Commander]
Sami your mother is angry because you taught Manar to spit ✓✓
[WhatsApp: The Commander]
I'll try to calm her down. You spend the night at a friend's house ✓✓
A moment after reading my father's messages, I got one from my mother.
[WhatsApp: Queen Semiramis]
My dear Sami, we need bread. Try not to be late at work. Bring bread with you — don't forget. Your father is busy and can't go out ✓✓
My forehead started sweating.
"Guys, is it hot in here? Should I turn on the AC?" I asked the customers.
"No, Sami. It's winter. What are you talking about?" one of them said.
"Sami, your face looks strange. You okay?" another asked, looking at me.
"No, man. I'm fine. Just thirsty." I changed the subject.
Okay. I must be imagining things today. The messages my father sent are completely different from my mother's. Let me read them again.
[WhatsApp: The Commander]
Deleted
[WhatsApp: The Commander]
Deleted
[WhatsApp: The Commander]
Deleted
WHAT THE HELL?! Did my father withdraw? Did he sell me out? You, Commander — how do you abandon your soldiers?
No. He couldn't have. He deleted the messages after I read them. This tells me two things: First, the Commander warned me. Second, after confirming the warning was received, he destroyed the evidence.
And the second conclusion — a full tactical retreat. We're finished. He's afraid the enemy command will discover the messages and make him the target.
Damn, she's clever. Asking me to come home early under the pretense of needing bread. And my father — he pulled off something greater than Operation Ivy Bells.¹ The Commander executed a brilliant intelligence leak.
Let me think about this. When did Manar learn to spit? I don't spit. Well, sometimes I spit. But there's no way I'd spit anywhere near Manar.
Wait. I remember now. A while ago, I was playing with Manar. She was pointing at Lonely, calling him disgusting, but she didn't have the vocabulary for it. So I taught her to spit. You know — it's a normal thing most kids do. To express dislike. Right?
Not again!!! My mother makes a mountain out of a molehill. She won't even try to understand. She has this explosive anger. She doesn't listen to other perspectives.
I'm going gray, folks. This is going to be a rough day.
Inhale.
I smoked a cigarette, thinking. Now I have two options:
Option One: Stay at work until late. By the time I get home, Mom will be asleep. I survive the day.
Option Two: As the Commander said, stay at a friend's house until her anger cools. Then go home.
"Hey, Sami! When are you going to finish my haircut? I have work, man!" Some voice scattered my thoughts.
"Okay, man. Almost done." I went back to work.
—
Time flew by without me noticing. Midnight came. I figured she'd be asleep by now. I'd wait another hour, then go home.
I cleaned the salon. Sterilized the tools. I even swept the street. Washed it. Cleaned it. I wouldn't normally do these things even if you killed me. But to kill time? I'm ready to sell one of my kidneys.
After locking up, I headed home. It only took a few minutes. I tried the outer gate — locked from inside.
I vaulted over the wall into the courtyard. Tried the inner doors — locked from inside. Damn. Mom was serious. She wasn't going to let this end peacefully.
But I had no choice. I'd climb up and go through the window. No other option. I messaged the Commander, but he wasn't answering. Probably asleep.
I climbed to the second floor. Opened the window with a piece of copper wire I keep for occasions like this. It wasn't the first time.
I scanned the room after entering. Nothing had changed. Everything was as I'd left it. I thought about turning on the Xbox, but changed my mind — she might hear the sound and come up.
I stripped down and lay on my floor bed, leaving my clothes on the actual bed. Opened the messages.
[WhatsApp: Queen Semiramis]
My dear Sami, we need bread. Try not to be late at work. Bring bread with you — don't forget. Your father is busy and can't go out. ✓✓
[WhatsApp: Me]
Sorry, Mom. I can't come back now. I'm really busy. I'll be late. ✓✓
[WhatsApp: Queen Semiramis]
Okay. We have some bread in the fridge — enough for dinner tonight. But don't forget to bring more when you come back. ✓✓
[WhatsApp: Me]
Okay, Mom. ✓✓
Reading these messages, I couldn't sense anything strange...
If the Commander hadn't warned me...
I can't imagine what would have happened.
—
I put my head on the pillow and tried to sleep.
But tonight... wasn't ordinary.
It wasn't pain in my chest. More like something pressing gently on it. Making sure it was still beating.
I breathed slowly. Told myself it was stress. Or exhaustion. Or the eclipse people had blown out of proportion.
I closed my eyes.
But the darkness didn't spread immediately. I felt it descending on me. Layer after layer.
I tossed and turned more than once.
I was sure I was alone in the room...
And yet...
There was a subtle feeling that the air wasn't moving right.
I opened my eyes quickly.
Nothing.
The corner, same as always. The window, closed. Clothes on the bed.
"Lack of sleep. That's all."
I turned my back to the wall.
For one second... I wished my biggest worry tonight was my mother.
—
I should have put my phone on silent. That was the stupidest decision I made all day.
Not long passed until morning.
RIIING... RIIING... SCREECH! SCREECH! 📞📞
IT'S WAR, FOLKS! 📞📞📞
BANG... BANG... CRASH!
"SAMI, YOU DAMN BASTARD, OPEN THE DOOR!"
RIIING... RIIING... SCREECH! SCREECH! 📞📞
BANG... BANG... CRASH!
"I TOLD YOU TO OPEN THE DOOR BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN!"
I woke to Hitler's motivational speeches and my mother's insane banging on the door. I saw the caller — exactly as expected.
[Queen Semiramis]
RIIING... RIIING... SCREECH! SCREECH! 📞📞 calling you.
"I TOLD YOU TO OPEN THE DOOR. NOW."
She'd come to the door and called because I'd locked it last night. She couldn't get in.
"You won't open? Fine. Stay inside. I'll be back in a bit."
Before I could process what was happening, I heard her footsteps retreating.
Shit. What do I do? I need a quick solution. Something to stop her. If I think about my mother, she has three traits:
One: Quick to anger.
Two: Cunning. Don't ask me how anger and intelligence coexist. I don't know. But she has both.
Three: Fearless. She never backs down. Never afraid of anything. This is the most terrifying thing about her.
I jumped out of bed. And felt something strange in the room — something I couldn't name. Not a sound. Not a shape. Just the air, sitting differently than it should. I turned to check the corner. Nothing there. But the feeling didn't leave — it just got quieter, like it was waiting.
Something more urgent now. I ran to the window. Opened it. Just as I was about to climb out —
CRACK... BOOM... CRUNCH!
The door shattered after several hits. Opened with wooden fragments flying into the room.
My mother walked in carrying a metal baseball bat. Where the hell did she get a baseball bat?
I didn't hesitate. Jumped out the window. Climbed along the wall sideways. Balanced precariously on a brick jutting slightly from the wall.
"What's the matter, Tarzan? Decided to move to the city?" My mother said after smashing the door and entering the room.
THWACK!
"Come on, let's talk. We'll try to educate you jungle dwellers a bit." She swung the bat. The blow hit the wall after I dodged safely.
I hung there, suspended between sky and earth, my fingers clinging to that damned brick that was starting to groan under my weight — like it might leave the wall in protest.
Inside the room, my mother stood in her "victorious warrior" pose, wiping wood dust off her shoulder, the metal bat in her hand gleaming in the morning light like it was waiting for round two.
THWACK!
The echo of the last blow against the wall still danced in my skull. But behind my mother's imposing presence and her speech about "culture and the jungle," that worthless creature emerged...
Alaa.
Now, imagine this situation. I'm hanging on the wall. What's the most annoying thing that could possibly annoy me right now? Think about it. Take your time.
The damn rat stood there, exploiting my mother's distraction with her educational lecture, and started his "private show" — aimed at me only. He raised his hands to his ears and started wiggling his fingers rapidly, provocatively.
Then he stuck out his tongue as far as it would go, almost touching his chin, and made a sound so faint only someone facing death like me could hear:
"BBBBBBBBTTTTTTTT!"
Alaa. I swear I'll introduce you to my Size 45 for a heated one-on-one. I gave him a terrifying look. He didn't care. Kept mocking me.
Seems like revenge for yesterday's beating. Doesn't matter now. When I looked away from him, my eyes met my mother's.
Damn. My ass suddenly clenched.
My mother looked at me coldly, weighing the bat in her hand: "Want to jump, Sami? Jump. Gravity will teach you the manners I failed to."
She turned to Alaa: "Go get me a cup of tea. I want to enjoy watching your brother try to fly."
Damn. My hand was hurting from clinging to that brick. My grip was loosening. If I fall now, I'll be the first barber in history killed by his mother with a baseball bat.
"Well, hero? Coming down, or should we wait for tea? Alaa, make sure to add plenty of sugar. The show needs energy."
We're waiting for your support, Commander. We're surrounded by the Germans.
As Sami struggled to hold on, and the sound of Alaa stirring the teacup reached his ears... suddenly, he heard a door opening.
— End of Chapter 10 —
—
Author's Notes:
¹ Operation Ivy Bells:
A Cold War operation where the U.S. tapped into secret Soviet underwater communication lines in the Sea of Okhotsk. The Commander did the same thing — but on WhatsApp.