I aint what it aint!

I stand there frozen as the beautiful olive skinned brunette approaches me and my business partner Chris. I guess you could see the intense emotion on my face because Chris waves his hand and asks “You good?” “I don't know,” I reply. She gets closer and I swear it's her Fadwa Bennis just as beautiful as the last day I saw her. “Table for 2?” she asks as she approaches. “Fadwa? How did you escape?” I ask. “Escape? And how racist is it to assume just because I’m brown, I’m muslim and my name is Fadwa?” she asks. “What the hell?” Chris askes “Dont mind him he’s stupid and no that doesn't make what he’s doing right but I think he’s going through something and we are meeting a party we have a reservation for Jones.” He adds. “Okay right this way.” She says as she sends eye daggers in my direction. She sits us at the table and gives us menus and walks away. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve been to the middle east, you know that shit aint cool.” Chris asks. “Yes I have and you remember when I told you about the trip I went on with my dad to Morocco when I was a teenager?” I ask.”Yeah the forbidden love and you almost blew the deal for you dad because you wanted to run away with the guy's daughter?” Chris answers. “That’s her Fadwa Bennis” I exclaim. “You said her dad was loaded right? What the hell would she be doing serving at a restaurant in Oakwood?” asks Chris. “She escaped her oppressive family, it happens all the time. I saw something about it in 60 minutes.” I exclaim. “Look motherfucker, you need to get your head in the game and focus on this meeting we got going on. You fuck this up I’m seinding your ass back to Moroco!” Chris threatens. “I’m good, my head is in the game.”

I make it through the meeting and it's almost like seeing her again gives me more confidence and charm. Chirs and I wow the clients and we of course get the account. This being a Friday night and the night still being young Chris and I decide to celebrate. We hit up the Barksdale district and do some bar hopping. Now me and Chris are very easy on the eyes and can pull some ladies but I wasn't in wingman mode tonight. Fadwa’s doppelganger was right there in the front of my mind. Part of me was hoping it was her doppelganger and that she didn't make here just to slate me but that was teenage love and with how fleeting love is its definitely a flash in the pan when its two stupid teens who don't understand how to process emotions let alone the fact that this moment in time we not only fade but will be one of many that define us. As the night winds down and Chris and I are waiting for our Ubers I ask him for a cigarette. I usually only smoke when I drink but the more bourbon I put in my system the more this whole situation worked my nerves which is the complete opposite of what happens when it's in my system. “So the thick chick from the diaspora? You weren't feeling her tonight?” Chris asks as he lights my cigarette. “I know it's weird right?” I responded. “This whole thing got you messed up huh?” He asks. “Have I ever shown you her picture?” I ask. “You still have a picture of her?” Chris asks. “Of course I do.” I answer. “Well no you've never shown me.” He responds. “If I had then it would have made sense.” I say “Well thanks for saving your crash out until after the meeting, go home, get you some rest and maybe come up here and talk to her, figure this shit out.” Chris says as his phone beeps a grey hybrid pulls up. “That's you?” I ask “That's me.” He replies. We dap and hug it out as he leaves. “Love bro” we both say as he drives off.

When I get home I go through my closet and pull out a shoe box of items I kept from the trips I went on with my dad as a kid. My dad was what they call a polyglot. He was savant when he came to it. Growing up a poor genius he wanted to make as much money as he could so he became of all things us being from North Carolina a tobacco salesman. Also growing up without a father and his only experiences being spending summers in Bunn NC he wanted to make sure that I got as much experience as I could as a kid so he took me around the world with him. Growing up in the 90’s with martial arts being huge I of course took karate and was able to fight in actual tournaments in Japan and Korea, I walked the great wall of china, floated in the dead sea, toured the taj mahal, trekked mach picu and foolishly fell in love with a beautiful girl in Morocco. My father had made a name for himself and been established long before I came along so his contacts were solid and were considered family, something that was hard for a black man to do in america at that time but being a genius other than making my mom stick around there was really nothing he couldn't figure out. So when Fadwa’s fathers men caught us trying at the Tanger Med trying to catch a ferry from Morocco to Spain he figured out how to get us out of that too. I don't know if Fadwa ever brought up our relationship to her father before that but I did to mine. Laid it out like a soap opera that would strengthen the two families and my father pointed out how foolish of me to think that a Southern Baptist from North Carolina would be able to marry a sunni muslim girl. I didn't understand what that meant until I looked into religion. Foolishly I automatically assumed she was living under the oppressive finger of her father and that she would be forced to marry someone she didn't love and I couldn't imagine her being married to anyone but me. Then I thought about how I saw her father treat her and he was a very kind man, a loving doting father. Then I realized the danger I put her in if they would have assumed I defiled her. So even though that wasn't the last business trip my dad took me on, it was the last one to Morocco and the last one when the client had a daughter the same age as me.

I found my picture of Fadwa, the raven haired moroccan goddess, big beautiful almond shaped dark eyes, that beautiful olive complexion, big beautiful full red lips. Fadwa the goddess the one that got away, a tell of forbidden love that honestly was the reason I could never commit. Even though life had lifed and I had my heart torn from my chest a few times I was never truly devastated because I knew my true love was out there. Now she may be here but why would she act like she didn't know me? Then it dawned on me I don't know what happened to her. My punishment was pretty calm. All things considered my dad was a religious man but there is a difference between being a religious southern baptist and a devout Sunni muslim. Maybe what happened to her was so harsh that she never wanted to see me again or she wasn't allowed to but that was almost 20 years ago. Or just maybe and this thought kind of hurt, maybe it didn't mean as much to her as she did to me. To me she was my goddess, the one that got away the love of my life, maybe to her I was just the black boy that almost ruined her future. Or maybe that was the bourbon talking and I should go to bed. Maybe I should go back to the restaurant tomorrow and confront her, no that's not a good word to use, not confront her, I would never have a confrontation with her. No tomorrow I’m going to talk to her. Maybe I can jog her memory, maybe she’ll break my heart, or maybe just maybe she's not Fadwa. Or maybe I should go to bed, maybe that's the bourbon talking.

Of course I didn't sleep but I did sober up, but not sleeping is a good thing I could get there just before the lunch rush. I do the best I can to make myself look not disturbed, floss, brush my teeth, my hair put on fragrance oil and not cologne because cologne can be over bearing and I drive all the way there with the windows down to knock out what's left of the alcohol.

I get to the restaurant right when it opens. I see her but she doesn't seat me. I tell my server to get her to come over and slip her two 20’s one for her and one for Fadwa’s doppleganger. I watched her come over, I thought I got over having butterflies in my stomach when I saw a beautiful woman but with Fadwa I felt like I was a teenager all over again. She walks over and sits down “You have 5 minutes.” she says. ‘Okay wow 5 minutes, first of all let me apologize for yesterday, I did not mean to offend you” I explained. “You are fine, I've experienced racism in the country before and you did not have that gleam in your eye the racist tend to get. You’re just an idiot, you are very handsome but an idiot.” She says. “So you really aren't Fadwa Bennis?” I ask her. “I am not Fadwa Bennis” she answers. “Fadwa is Moroccan, are you Moroccan?” I ask “I am, so do you think all Moroccan women look alike?” she asks. “Well I think you are all beautiful.” I answer. “A charming idiot,” she says. “I want to show you something” I say, handing her the picture of Fadwa. “Wow I can see the confusion, but this girl is very young, this is an old picture?” She asks. “It is I haven't seen her in almost 20 years” I answer “And Fadwa she broke your heart, you have not forgotten her” She says. “Well it was kind of a forbidden love type thing, I'm a black southern baptist she’s muslim” I say “And you were both dumb teenagers” she says. “Exactly” I answer. “As eerie as it is, I am not your Fadwa” she says handing me back the picture. “The two of you would have looked good together and would have made very beautiful babies. She would have been happy with you because your love for her is foolish and foolish love is beautiful.” She says. I pause for a second realising that I’m getting emotional. “You know thank you, I mean I came here today hoping that you were my goddess” I say, she interrupts me “Goddess?” “Thats what I call her and that maybe you had forgotten me or you were forbidden to be with me but this has kind of given me a closure I didn't realize I needed” I say. “Well you are welcome, charming idiot. Well you have gone over your five minutes” She says standing. “It is nice to meet you Mr–?” She asks, extending her hand. “Darren, Darren Ferguson and the pleasure is all mine Mrs–’’ I say standing and taking her hand. “Amira Alami I hope you find your goddess Mr. Ferguson.” She says finally parting.

So that wasn't my goddess, my Fadwa and as I said it did bring my closure but it also brought me curiosity as to what happened to my Fadwa. Even though I've probably googled Fadwa Bennis every 2 months since google was a thing I've never dove that deep. I think in the fear of finding out she was indeed married off and that would devastate me. So do I live in this semi closure that Amina has given me or do I dig another rabbit hole to journey down? I do believe in the multiverse and if in this universe there can be a doopleganger of Fadwa to help bring me closure than I know that in at least one universe out there me and her are together with beautiful Black and Moroccan kids and that's going to have to be enough for me.