Where Will My Heart Beat?

Copyright © 2018 Loubna Hassanieh, PhD.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by

any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-7002-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-7003-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-7001-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018964138

Archway Publishing rev. date: 03/14/2019

To all the freethinkers and those who are willing to

change and evolve—past, present, and future

Contents

Acknowledgments

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Part 2

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Part 3

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Part 4

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Part 5

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue: Thoughts Left Unspoken

Acknowledgments

This book never would have been written had it not been for the collective effort of all that ever existed and took part in my life.

My deepest gratitude goes to Khaled, my husband, whose shoulder I cry and dream on.

I am forever grateful to my son, Jason, for reading and rereading this manuscript, imbuing it with his youthful and indomitable spirit. To my daughter, Grace, who always fills me with hope and brings me closure on the fairness of life.

I am greatly indebted to my parents for managing to raise me in Beirut during the grueling years of war and for opening my eyes to unconditional love and boundless giving. To my sister, Hala, whose positive outlook on life makes me turn my face to the sun. To my aunts and my grandmothers, the women I watched growing up, and the life lessons they etched in me.

Special thanks go to Dr. Catherine and Dr. Matt MacLean for their genuine support and helpful feedback. To the special women in my life—Wendy Brauer, Karen D’Atri, Catherine MacLean, Theresa Miller, Donna Reiffen, Vicki Skelton, and Sharon Wise—who reintroduced me to the wonderful world of novels and whose educated and sensible outlook on life carried me through.

Many thanks to Chris Day, editor at Archway, for his fresh perspective and aesthetic touch.

Finally, I am forever grateful to all the teachers and professors who carried me through my education and to all the teachers of the world for their sincere and hard work.

I maintain that the human mystery is incredibly demeaned by scientific reductionism, with its claim in promissory materialism to account eventually for all of the spiritual world in terms of patterns of neuronal activity. This belief must be classed as a superstition … We have to recognize that we are spiritual beings with souls existing in a spiritual world as well as material beings with bodies and brains existing in a material world.

––Sir John C. Eccles

Part 1

We meet ourselves time and time again in a thousand disguises on the path of life.

—Carl Jung

Chapter 1

S erene hit the snooze button for the third time. The sun had already risen, but her mind was not yet ready to welcome its glorious rays. Sleep is a universally gratifying sensation for the body and a rejuvenating break from the conscious mind, she remembered her professor’s words. What if sleep was what she needed a break from? What if it was sleep that was exhausting her body?

She tossed and turned, stretching her arms and legs, trying to get her body to obey. Through her window, she could hear the morning buzz. Thankfully, she no longer woke to the cacophony of cars and machines. Instead, her mornings were blessed with the sounds of nature: roosters crowing, birds tweeting, and donkeys braying in the distance. The morning breeze settled on her face, a cool aromatic mist seeping deep into her pores and tickling her torpid senses, but she still felt tired. Even though she had been in Mar Elias for a month, her sleep patterns had not yet stabilized. Was Sonia mistaken all along?

At the thought of Sonia, her eyes popped wide open. It was Wednesday, and Sonia was expecting to meet for lunch in the main cafeteria of Mar Elias General Hospital. Although their lunches were always short, they were enough to anchor her, rekindle her interests, and empower her with great élan to push forward. Sonia’s keen eyes always saw right through her. Her friend’s power over her was truly amazing in that way. Her you’re looking good today was good enough to brighten Serene’s day with optimism. On the other hand, her skeptical look helped widen the mysterious chasm that drew Serene into the abyss of depression.

She gazed at the ceiling fan as it wobbled, spinning on high. She rubbed at her exposed arms. She couldn’t sleep through the night without those blades blowing oxygen onto her face. She hopped out of bed, turned off the fan, and walked to the bathroom, hoping to wash off the film of salt deposited on her skin as a mocking witness to her nightly sweat attacks. She looked at her pale face in the mirror and softly massaged the skin over her throat. Did she really scream in the night—or was it only in her dreams? Her neck and back ached, and her arms were sore. For the past two days, her work schedule had been intense. She still felt the strain in her upper body. Dealing with kids at her previous job was effortless, and most days were uneventful. At the current physical therapy center, however, things were different. Her job as a physical therapist was becoming increasingly onerous, yet thankfully distracting.

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. A thump shook her apartment door.

Seven o’clock!

She sighed in dismay. She usually opened her front door a couple of minutes before seven and waited for the newspaper boy, who would smile shyly, mumble a good morning, and with downcast eyes and ink-black fingers, hand-deliver the paper. She charged to the door, her heart galloping faster than her legs, but he had already walked away. She picked up the newspaper and took it straight to the trash bin. She never read the paper. On the contrary, she was so happy to be away from any publishable daily politics and city business news, but something in that young boy’s smile, his sun-darkened face, his dispirited eyes, and the ragged clothes that hung on his small, slim figure made her stomach knot. A desire to help him saturated her heart and mind, but she did not know how. He had repeatedly refused to accept her gratuity.

She went to the kitchen and opened the window. She unlatched the exterior wood shutters and pushed them out into the morning sunshine, unraveling the picturesque tableau that had delighted her senses ever since she arrived in Mar Elias. She could see the backdrop of vivid green mountains surrounding the town in a continuous range, like a protective wall. This town had a strikingly healing effect on her. Its many lakes, wildflower fields, and hiking trails detached her from the sticky matrix she had been embedded in all her life. She toasted some bread, spread it with honey and goat cheese, and slid it into a paper bag. She would eat it on her way to the clinic.

As she passed by the living room, she stopped to kiss the photo displayed on the coffee table. She could not believe a whole month had passed. It seemed like she moved into town yesterday. She slouched her shoulders at the thought and sighed. A day down the calendar was a day closer to going home, reuniting with the two people Serene cared most about. She would give anything to hold Noura’s chubby face in her hands and kiss it, to hug her and smell her potpourri skin. Waking up to mornings cradled in Kameel’s arms used to connect her with her earthly life, ordinary life, making her feel safe and loved. However, that safe feeling had disappeared lately with the birth of Noura and the increasing responsibilities of life.

But she knew that going home was still far-fetched. She still had a lot of work to do on herself. Back in her bathroom, she stopped again to look at her face in the mirror. It looked drained and in need of rescue. Exhaustion had deeply rooted itself in her eyes and complexion, where it had become a permanent dweller. She applied some lightweight makeup to conceal the circles under her eyes and brighten her look. She put her hair up in a negligee bun and then went to her closet and chose a sage green shirt to go with her denim. Bright shades would leave a good impression on Sonia, who was always critical of her wearing somber colors. Show me what you wear, and I tell you who you are, she remembered her friend’s words.

She smiled.

She clutched her purse, picked up the sandwich bag, and stepped outside. She was renting the top flat in a three-story apartment building, right on Hamra Street. She skipped down the stairwell and strode into the morning sun. Mar Elias was a small town, and Hamra Street was its commercial center, where shops for all possible needs were lined up on both sides. Naturally, mornings were the busiest time of the day. Streets were humming with people running errands, and the sidewalk tables at the coffee shop were fully occupied with people reading their newspapers over their morning coffee.

Locals walked or rode their bicycles around town. Cars were rare and usually only used by non-locals on a visit to the hospital. She always walked by the main bakery on her way to work. Nothing made her mouth water like the smell of freshly baked bread and pastry. She reached for her sandwich and took a bite. Shop owners raced to greet her as she passed them by. Their voices were welcoming. They briefly updated her on their daily news.

The meat is fresh today. It hasn’t even made it to the fridge yet, the owner of the corner shop shouted.

We milked this morning, and the heirloom tomatoes are fresh out of the garden, his wife added, proudly stacking the tomatoes on display.

Their friendliness warmed her heart. Everybody knew her by name. They also knew what her purpose in their town was. The physical therapy center where she worked was two blocks west of her apartment. The heat of the sun shining on her back drove her forward, warming her body.

She was appreciative of the job opportunity given to her in this remote and charming town. It came to save her from the suffocating monotony that had threatened her sanity and the wearisome volatility of her mood. Two life-changing events—the death of her brother followed by her pregnancy—had rekindled her past dreams and nightmares, intensifying her anxiety. Time could not completely obliterate her fears, but they had gone dormant for a while.

Shed your fears, her doctor had said. It’s completely normal to have some form of anxiety during pregnancy. It’s the fear of the unknown—and the overwhelming power of anticipation!

Serene wanted so desperately to believe her.

Serene’s childhood was tarred with nightmares and cold sweats that often ended with her screaming and kicking. Some nights, she would fall back asleep, cradled in her mother’s arms. Most nights, however, when nothing could curb her fear and gasping for air became difficult, her parents would take her out on a stroll through the neighborhood.

Time to go chase some fairies, her mother would say.

Cold or hot, they went out. Her father would pretend to whisper to fairies hidden behind a tree or a bush, coaxing them to bring her presents in the night, and leave them by her bed for when she woke up.

Her parents learned to stray away from a list of habits or objects that used to frighten her. Particularly, Serene was afraid of water, especially when it covered her face. It wasn’t the normal kicking and screaming of a baby, and later a child, that accompanied every bath. It was screaming to the point of asphyxiation, to the point of turning blue. For as long as she could remember, she showered with her head tilted back, wiping away any drops of water that trickled down her forehead. She never swam in a pool. She always refused to get in the water when she accompanied her friends to the beach. Drowning was always the climax of her nightmares.

Serene was not a person who could look fear in the eye and confront it. She would be twenty-seven years old in two weeks, but on the inside, she was still a child, apprehensive about issues that others dismissed insouciantly. Was age supposed to make her stronger and wiser—or was it supposed to awaken her insight into the endlessness of life’s mystery and the insignificance of her struggles in this vast, indifferent universe?

You have to conquer your inner demons, Kameel whispered as he hugged her goodbye. And you have to learn how to do it on your own. I can’t help you. No one can.

As Serene entered the physical therapy center that morning, she made a promise to herself. She would no longer postpone her patients’ hydrotherapy sessions. It would be therapy for her as well. Was it not the sole reason she had set foot in this town, to work on healing herself? She understood that the sooner she took action, the sooner her mission would come to an end, allowing her to resume her normal life. None of her colleagues at the physical therapy center knew about her fears, and they were not going to judge her. As for her patients, they were battling their own physical demons. She would just have to keep to the shallow end of the pool and stay close to the edge. She did not have to submerge herself beyond her waist.

Her scalp tingled at the thought of standing in water. She did not realize she had been picking ferociously at the cuticle of her right thumb until her skin stung and started bleeding. She stopped by the schedule board behind the front desk to take note of the sessions scheduled for the day. I can always start hydrotherapy next week, she thought.

She sighed in relief at the idea. She sucked at the scar on her finger as images of herself floating in the pool streamed through her mind. She would have to ask someone to take a picture of her standing in the pool since none of her friends or family members would ever believe she actually had done it. And maybe one day she could put an end to her anxiety and accompany Noura to the beach.

Just maybe.

She had been working at Mar Elias’s physical therapy center only for two weeks when she accumulated enough referrals for both morning and afternoon shifts. The majority of her patients came from the hospital. She knew it would only be a matter of time before she was asked to run some of the sessions out of the hospital’s rehabilitation facility. The idea excited her because the center for the hospital had the latest equipment and technology.

Serene took her job very seriously, and she was completely focused on her patients. Therapy sessions were mostly short, and all were conducted with a sense of urgency. Since her patients showed up mainly for postoperative rehab, they were usually transients. She didn’t feel compelled to converse outside her profession or feel obligated to try to build long-term relationships with them. Her professional competence and honest nature carried her a long way, causing her referrals to stack up in the short time she had been on the job.

Someone’s becoming popular here, Shatha said as Serene examined the schedule board. Shatha had been on the job for close to four years, since the advent of the hospital in Mar Elias. She had watched the town blossom into a big rehabilitation and convalescence center. Let me know if it’s too much. I don’t mind helping you, she added.

Thank you, Shatha. I’m fine, really.

Serene did not really care for Shatha. She found her fickle and disingenuous the minute she met her. She tried not to rely solely on her snap judgment, but the more she got to know Shatha, the more alienating she found her.

By the way, I need to brief you on this patient when you’re ready Shatha said, tapping the schedule board with her fingers. She inched her way closer to Serene, a strange focus in her eyes. I worked on him for a while. He’s difficult to please.

Thank you. I’ll definitely read his report ahead of time and prepare myself. I’ll make sure to come to you if I have any questions.

Serene walked away, dismissing Shatha’s offer in her mind. She wouldn’t need Shatha to update her on her patients. She knew her stay in Mar Elias was only temporary, and she was fully aware that Kameel would never consider moving away from the city. Besides, she had always treated her profession as just that. A profession. She had always left her job at the clinic, and she never brought it home with her. All the kids she had worked on in the past were amiable patients, mainly with fixable sports-related injuries. Kids didn’t harbor ill thoughts; they were physically and emotionally resilient, and best of all, they had the will to recover, making her job less challenging.

It was a rather uneventful Wednesday morning. By the time she finished with her third patient, her stomach had begun to churn. Feeling excited to meet her friend for lunch, she grabbed her purse and headed out. The hospital was two blocks west of Serene’s work. The town was small and simple to navigate, and all four corners were within walking distance.

Before the hospital was built, locals used to rely mainly on the fruit of the land and small local farms for their meat and other animal products. However, with the construction of the hospital five years ago, things started to change. Two- or three-story apartment buildings mushroomed everywhere to accommodate hospital visitors and workers. Convenience stores started to expand in size, their shelves filling up with canned food, products locals had managed to live without all their lives. Thankfully, the town did not lose its peacefulness and tranquility, which manifested itself in the tempo of its daily life.

The hospital and its buildings were monumental. The project stretched over three blocks, and still had ongoing construction in several sites. Nevertheless, the buildings were aesthetically unobtrusive. They were built from natural stone, had green tile roofs, and were surrounded by gardens of tall pine and cedar trees. Serene thought it to be a masterpiece, for it was a state-of-the-art hospital in a peaceful, organic, and friendly environment.

Serene usually met her friend at the cafeteria, on the ground floor of the West Building. At lunchtime, the cafeteria was always filled with white coats. Self-conscious and intimidated, Serene straightened her posture and quickly scanned the room, trying to spot her friend. She saw Sonia standing at the other end of the cafeteria, surrounded by three of her colleagues and deeply engaged in what seemed like a fun conversation. Serene was so happy for her and was sure Sonia would thrive during her residency at the hospital. She grabbed a table for two and waited for her friend.

Sonia was always the beauty queen in high school. Pleasant and full of joy, she always found a reason to laugh, and she kept a positive outlook on life. Every boy and girl wanted to befriend her. Serene dropped her guard around her friend and found herself, though only temporarily, filled with mirth and hope. And now, in her white coats, Sonia somehow looked even more pleasant and attractive. Even Serene, her longtime friend, often found herself dazzled by her beauty and inspired by her charm.

Although the two had been classmates since first grade, Serene had never tried to break into Sonia’s circle. Full of diffidence, Serene was never considered a threat to the egotism of other girls, and there wasn’t a social group she couldn’t belong to. However, she preferred to be a peripheral observer, nomadic between ephemeral friendship ties. She did not socialize at all with her schoolmates during elementary or middle school, and she never had a best friend, regardless of her mother’s desperate efforts to find her one. As a result, Serene never had playdates or sleepovers, and she never joined any sports teams.

Until one day, Sonia, vivacious as always, approached her at the end of recess.

Do you want to go watch cartoons at the movies this weekend?

Serene did not know what to say. She, for one, had never cared for cartoons, thinking they were silly.

You should join us Friday afternoon at the theaters, Sonia pressed on, smiling expansively. She then walked away, as if she had seen the tension sweep over Serene’s face.

Several girls hovered around the seat next to Sonia that Friday evening at the movies, but she had already saved it for Serene.

As Serene sat at the cafeteria table, waiting for her friend to finish her conversation, she started reflecting on their relationship and how it had intensified during high school. She remembered how the two of them had made a pact to stick together through college. It was Sonia who tore open the cocoon for Serene to see the light. It was her proven friendship that eased Serene’s way into social intermingling. It was her unwavering support that allowed Serene to gradually accept her nightmares as inconsequential disturbances and eventually forget about her fears and anxiety. Naturally, Serene grew to value her friend’s opinion and trust her judgment.

Serene also remembered how, ever since Sonia had made the decision to go to medical school, their times together had precipitated into brief phone calls and rare weekend visits. Sonia couldn’t help her through her mourning when her brother passed away, and she wasn’t around during her pregnancy. It was during this testy period of Serene’s life when the nightmares revisited her in full swing. And since Sonia left the city altogether and came to Mar Elias General Hospital for her residency, the two of them barely saw each other.

You need to take a break from your routine, Sonia suggested over dinner last Christmas. You’ll like Mar Elias. The town is basically a big rehab center, and the people are nice and welcoming. You’ll definitely have time to reflect and readjust. I can help you find a job in your field. It doesn’t have to be at the hospital if that’s too much for you.

Once again, Sonia came to the rescue. Serene was desperate to get away. She remembered mentioning the offer to Kameel and how he initially dismissed the proposal as a disruption to their jobs and household routine. He eventually came to concede, but Serene’s situation was only getting worse.

Finally, Sonia caught sight of her friend waving to her from the table and went to join her.

What was all that babbling about? Serene asked as she hugged her friend.

Everybody’s so excited about this Saturday.

Every year, the town celebrated the return of summer with a festival that would kick off at sundown and proceed until the early hours of the morning. The tradition went back several generations, and it had become more elaborate through the years, especially since the advent of the hospital. It had been the highlight of discussions around town lately. Serene did not care to go, but she could not spoil her friend’s excitement.

I’m hoping there’s a white dress sitting somewhere in your closet, Sonia said, raising her eyebrows quizzically. Otherwise, my friend, prepare to go shopping.

Serene relaxed her body against the back of the chair, wilting at the idea.

It’s the dress code for this event, you know. We can’t mess up the dress code!

I don’t have any dresses with me—let alone anything white. Serene was hoping it would be a good excuse to skip.

I’ll pick you up Friday afternoon, and we’ll go check the stores in Uptown, Sonia persisted, winking at her friend. Last year’s summer festival was a lot of fun. You’ll basically meet all the locals and all the doctors at the hospital, except for the ones working that night, of course. People also come from surrounding towns. Excellent opportunity to mix and mingle.

I really prefer to skip.

I’m not going without you. You don’t want me to miss out on such a fun event, do you?

Serene did not answer.

Let’s get some food before I’m called back.

While they filled their plates from the salad bar, Serene tried to come up with an excuse that would convince her friend.

I like your top. It lights up your face! Sonia interjected.

Serene had been enjoying the distractions of the day. The last thing she needed was to succumb to her own perturbations, but she couldn’t see herself going to the festival and wished Sonia would stop trying to convince her. As they got back to the table and started eating, she realized Sonia was looking at her worriedly. I’m fine. It’s just that I’d rather rest this weekend. I’ve been working long shifts.

Her friend did not respond.

It’s the same house, over and over, Serene added, suddenly regretting it, hoping the pandemonium of conversations around them would siphon off her words.

It’s just a dream, Sonia blurted as she stood up and hurriedly grabbed the folders she had with her, realizing she was being called back to duty. Come on now. We’ve been down this road countless times before. I’m sorry I have to head back. I promise to catch up on Friday. Sonia disappeared into the crowd, and Serene sat munching on her salad, staring at the white background.

It’s just a dream!

The same words she had been hearing her whole life, but these recurring dreams had unwaveringly disturbed her. To this day, she didn’t know why. As for the people in them, some left her with a good feeling, while others upset her—or even terrified her. Their faces were always blurry and shapeless. Although she knew they were all in her mind, she could not simply dismiss them. How could her mind make up such complex stories, complete with their intricate elements of design? And if it wasn’t the work of her mind, then what was speaking to her? And what did it mean? Why her?

Chapter 2

W hose house was it that we used to visit? Serene asked her mother one morning. The one sitting on a beautiful hilltop in the countryside, all built of white stone, red tile roof, and windows of stained glass?

I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey. We never visited a house like that.

It seems so real. I can see its smallest details. It’s a beautiful house. I loved it. I love it.

Was it in a book you read, or a TV show, or maybe a movie?

Serene was never satisfied with her mother’s answers. It always seemed like she was brushing her off. Shouldn’t her mother have answers to her nagging questions? Her dreams were too distressing to not be real.

Does anyone we know own a ranch with horses? I love horses. They’re fun to ride, she said