The Chauffeur
Huda clambered into the backseat of the car, fraught with chagrin and distress. Fresh tears, barely suppressed, glistened on her lovely cheeks. Her olive skin burned red with humiliation. How mortifying to be dragged by her infuriated father after having been discovered with her boyfriend.
Her dad had come home early at a time when she thought the house would be unoccupied. He'd found them amid what he might have described as indecency! She could still hear his thunderous voice as it echoed throughout the house...
"Huda!" You whore! Have you no shame?"
He had then turned vehemently on her startled companion.
"And you," he shouted. "You chose to enter through the window instead of the front door. Off with you!" and sent him off, scurrying with his tail between his legs.
And then, without another word, he'd grabbed her arm and threw her on the sofa, whipping her feet with his belt, with intermittent gasping expostulation between gritted teeth, "Ya sharmouta! Ya bint-alharam! You brought shame upon this house!"
After which, he'd kicked her out, ordering her to go to her mother's house.
As the vehicle sped away from their residence, Huda mentally wept. The things that had happened were beyond cruel. She noticed Bader's dark eyes observing her quietly through the rearview mirror. Her Bengali chauffeur had started driving without receiving any prompts or destination from her.
His presence somehow comforted her battered spirit. She felt safe knowing that, once again, Bader kept silent and uninquisitive, knowing where to take her without prompts. Bader seemed so solidly calm. His handsome face revealed nothing but stoic calm. He continued stealing prolonged glances at her, which she was secretly aware of.
Their gazes met briefly while she raised her hand to rub a tear threatening to cascade over the curve of her cheek, smearing her mascara. As soon as she looked away, his cold eyes returned to the road. How beautiful she is, even when ravished by sorrow, he thought. He considered himself not bad-looking. Only 24 years old, with finely chiseled features of brown complexion, piercing dark brown eyes, and well-combed thick dark hair.
In Bengal, he used to own a repair shop that repaired anything related to cars. Bader was known in his circle of friends as "Bada." However, an accidental fire and accumulating debts forced him to move to Saudi Arabia, where Huda's father employed him.
He had started working for her family a year now and was getting more acquainted with them and how they functioned daily. His employer's daughter, he found, was an attractive twenty-year-old girl. He first espied her graceful form under her loose abaya cloak and the headscarf, which only highlighted her lovely face. Like many Saudi girls, Bader soon learned that Huda was spoilt by her parents and raised in the lap of luxury and puritanical upbringing.
For many sweet moments, he imagined being alone with her. Bader's thoughts came rudely to a halt when Huda sobbed loudly, urging him to pull the car over immediately. He did as she asked and watched her sob uncontrollably.
He had many women in his conquests back home, he thought. He had yet to score with an Arabic beauty beyond his working class. If he was honest, he wanted one very badly. It can't hurt to try. Or would Huda prove too innocent for such transgressions?
Trying not to show his nervousness at the confrontation ahead, he stepped delicately out of his vehicle and sidled next to Huda in the backseat as she watched him with apprehensive suspicion. He handed her a tissue box and bent towards her. Wordlessly, he brushed Huda's mussed hair back gently, whispering soothing words in Bengal, promising her safety and sound judgment. He tenderly wiped the slimy wetness of tears from her splayed cheeks. In the turmoil of her grief, Huda was bewildered at his bold attitude. He could see it in her eyes. But he forged ahead regardless, hoping he wasn't crossing a line he couldn't bring himself to retract. He gently brought his head closer, lips softly grazed hers just then, sending sparks shooting in every direction within her tortured soul. Huda held her breath, as she received his lips that glued boldly to hers.
They kissed silently like this for several minutes, sharing a similar heartbeat. So far, so good, Bader thought, already exhilarated at the glimmering promise of conquest. The danger of discovery by highway patrolmen was ever imminent. He pulled back and observed Huda as she sank back breathless against the upholstery, her face tense, expectant, and startled. He straightened, already a plan forming in his mind. Better than waiting for a better opportunity; why should he wait until tomorrow or next week to enjoy what can be claimed now in abundance, he reasoned.
The unforgiving desert sun was beating relentlessly upon the hood of his master's Volkswagen. Bader moved in to kiss Huda once more. This time, his tongue made its way inside her mouth. Although she protested slightly, making squishy lip sounds deep in her throat, like a timid kitten caught in a trap, Huda wasn't stopping him either. This gave him the confidence to reach further beneath her abaya coat. He drew a gasp from her when he cupped her breasts through the delicate white cotton blouse beneath. Her initial terror faded quickly, and she instinctively pressed closer against him. A little louder now, Huda groaned against his petting lips. Instinctually, his fingers began massaging the twin orbs lightly.
She mustered enough self-control to gasp "Enough!" in protest. He withdrew his resolve in no way lessened. He knew that she was already his. He returned to the driver's seat and started driving again, watching his now quiet mistress in the backseat.
Huda sat back in the pitted back seat, glaring warily at him, trying valiantly to concentrate on the passing traffic. What had gotten into her, she wondered. Why has she allowed this ignoramus peasant to take advantage of her? Since when was she allowing herself to be touched, indeed kissed by men?
Wasn't her religion or her upbringing supposed to provide her with guidance? She would never betray her faith or her parents, who had been so kind and generous to her- for weren't they her true guardians? -allowing her to attend school with boys, giving her a lot of leeway, and trusting her with the house key.
Weren't they her main supporters? Yet here she was- lured and almost seduced by her chauffeur! Would her mom, whom she loved most dearly, agree with what had happened if she knew it? She was kicked out just moments ago for a mere fling with a boy in her class whom she found attractive. And now this!
No matter how wonderful it felt. No, a million thousand, no!
Meanwhile, her chauffeur was forming a plan. Now, where to go, hmm? Bader hesitated. It needed to be somewhere private... Very private. It's like a secluded beach, perhaps. Or a beach house! He knew a friend who served as a caretaker for a beach house belonging to Huda's best friend. It was seldom occupied. He knew they were away for the summer. He would ask if he minded him using the premises on this occasion. He dialed his number. A gruff voice of an older man answered. He explained briefly in Urdu why he was calling, suggesting that this might be the perfect solution for privacy purposes. Without hesitation, the friend told him to go ahead. Bader smiled widely and ended the call.