TWENTY THREE

The deal was not as quick and easy to conclude as Hâroon had been hoping. Charles Tyrell found several points in the contract that he wished to challenge. Hâroon had been prepared for these arguments by his supervisor, however, so he was not taken by complete surprise and was able to hold his own quite well.

The meeting did teach him a few things about Charles Tyrell though. It didn’t take long for him to discover Tyrell’s main incentive. It wasn’t a love for the animals or an interest in farming that drove him, unlike most farmers. It wasn’t even about the customers; it was the money. Whatever brought in more income was what Charles Tyrell pursued. He was the prime example of a big business “farmer” who had monopolized the industry to the extent that traditional family farms, like his own, were going bankrupt across the country and closing down. A man who had never worked the earth with his own hands or toiled under the sun until his muscles were sore and he dropped from exhaustion had no right to own a farm or run one. Hâroon could not recall disliking someone so avidly—except for maybe Lila. He and his father had done business with owners of neighboring farms many times, and none had been as self-serving, mercenary, and self-centered as Charles Tyrell.

Hâroon had the passing thought that this was the kind of farming life that would have appealed to Lila. The long hours and the dust and grime that went hand-in-hand with farm work had repulsed her. She hated having to look after the house as he worked from sunrise to sunset; and had never hid her disgust if he came in sweaty or dirty from working. If she had married someone like Tyrell, she would have been put up in a mansion that had no business existing on a farm, wouldn’t have to lift a finger to even cook or clean, could entertain and throw society parties as much as she would have wished, and probably wouldn’t have to worry about children since Charles Tyrell didn’t appear to like them. This lifestyle was the very opposite of the life Hâroon knew as a farmer’s son, but it would have definitely suited his entitled, self-centered ex-wife.

It took about an hour of discussion and arguing before Charles signed the contract. Hâroon had never been so relieved to end the business and hoped he’d never have to deal with him again. Hopefully Eckhart could find another employee to visit Tall Oaks when the time came to renew the contract, if the company wished to do so. Tyrell wasn’t exactly one Hâroon would wish to do business with long-term.

“I assume we’re done here,” Charles Tyrell said as he passed the signed contract to Hâroon.

Hâroon nodded, placing it in his bag to be returned to his supervisor at the earliest opportunity. He would probably stop by his home after leaving Tall Oaks. However, whatever relief he felt about finalizing the contract was short-lived. Just as he was closing his bag, the door flew open and the very same maid that had been assigned to watch his children stood in the doorway, looking quite panicked, and his immediate thought was Yusrâ and Ibrâhîm. He didn’t fail to notice that they weren’t with her.

“Mrs. Drew!” Charles thundered in outrage in a tone Hâroon thought no person had the right to speak to or address another person in. “You know you are not to come in here when I am busy!”

The woman hesitated a moment, obviously intimidated by her employer’s anger but then she pushed back her reservations to speak. “It’s the children, Mr. Tyrell! That boy is uncontrollable. You must do something!”

Charles turned to Hâroon, raising an eyebrow, his disapproval clear. “I knew allowing children would be trouble,” he grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet. “Scott, I think you need to round up your children now. We’re done anyway.”

The housekeeper sighed in relief and then turned to leave the room. “This way.”

The two men left Charles’s study and followed the maid. She led them to the library. The three adults walked into a disaster zone—even Hâroon was slightly shocked.

Ibrâhîm had climbed up on top of one of the high bookshelves—it was not evident how he had reached that height—and was tossing all he could reach down from books to frames of pictures and awards as well as display pieces. Yusrâ, apparently taking her father’s advice that Ibrâhîm was no longer her responsibility to watch and take care of, had found her own form of entertainment. There was small furniture set on one side of the library, and she had climbed up on the couch and was jumping.

Hâroon knew he should be horrified, but the aghast look on Charles’s face was comical and the maid evidently didn’t know very much about toddlers if she’d thought keeping them in a library was a good idea. They needed games and toys to keep them entertained, not rows and rows of books that had no appeal to children. He tried not to show his amusement with a cough and then moved ahead of his host before he could see the mirth in his eyes.

“Get off the furniture right now!” Charles thundered at Yusrâ. “My furniture is not a toy!” Then he turned his loud voice on Ibrâhîm. “You get off there right now!”

Yusrâ froze at the loud voice. She turned to stare at the irate man who had entered the room. Then she burst into tears.

Whether Ibrâhîm understood the words spoken was a matter of debate, but his face crumpled and he began to scream and cry. Instead of climbing down as Charles may have hoped, he began throwing items out of anger and rage.

“This is your idea of a slightly disagreeable son and a well-behaved daughter?” Charles spoke up accusingly over the loud cries of both children, his tone furious. “These children have no discipline at all! If they were mine I’d take a belt to their backsides.”

“Then it’s a good thing they’re not yours,” Hâroon said stiffly. “You obviously don’t know anything about toddlers. Children are not miniature adults who act as you expect them to, Mr. Tyrell. Their behavior and temperaments are works in progress, not things you can control, and a room like this one is not suitable to bring children into.”

“You’ll be paying for any damages,” Charles said coldly. “And I’d recommend rescheduling business meetings you have on days you need to be with your children. They obviously can’t behave themselves in public.”

“Send whatever costs to Mr. Eckhart,” Hâroon said, trying to remain calm. He had no desire to have any personal exchanges with the man ever again. “He can forward them to me.”

“Fine,” Charles said. “Now please remove your children and leave. They have done more than enough damage. I’d recommend a hard talk about how they should behave in public, too.”

Hâroon ignored the unwanted parenting advice. A man who had never even had a child had no right to give unsolicited advice on how to discipline or train his children. Instead, he turned his attention on the twins, both still crying. Yusrâ would be easy enough to get, but Ibrâhîm, sitting on a shelf, posed a slight challenge.

He focused on his son first. Though he wanted to go to Yusrâ, too, and calm her down, Ibrâhîm’s position made him the priority. He had no guarantee that he wouldn’t try to jump down or even start to climb down and lose his balance along the way. He didn’t want to take that risk.

“Is there a ladder to reach the shelves?” he inquired, addressing Pauline.

“Yes, sir,” she confirmed, pointing.

He followed her finger to the ladder that was propped up against one of the other shelves, possibly placed there by an individual to reach a certain shelf or book. Hoping for the best and fearing the worst, he went to the ladder and removed it from its current place. Then he carried it the short distance to the shelf his son was on. He could feel the unwanted observation of both Tyrell and the maid, but he ignored them.

He placed it against the shelf and began the ascent, hoping Ibrâhîm wouldn’t make it too difficult to bring him down. It would be hard enough without the boy throwing a tantrum. When he finally reached the crying four-year-old, he tried to comfort him first. It would be to his advantage if Ibrâhîm was in a better mood and willing.

“Alright, Ibrâhîm, it’s okay,” he said in a consoling tone, noticing he’d managed to empty the entire level he sat on during his tantrum. “Stop crying. Daddy is here now.”

“Scott, stop dallying up there!” Charles called loudly. “I don’t have time for this! Bring him down now! Take all the time you want with that baby talk later!”

“Tyrell, I’m several feet in the air with a crying toddler!” Hâroon snapped back at him. “This is not the time to rush me! You may not know how to deal with children, but I do, and carrying a crying and screaming four-year-old down a ladder is not a good idea.”

Ibrâhîm, hearing the shouting and perhaps comprehending his father’s irritation, burst into a fresh round of tears. It was a reminder of why Hâroon tried to keep calm and not shout around his son. He couldn’t explain to him that he wasn’t yelling at him to calm him down as he could with his sister—or at least not yet.

Charles mumbled and grumbled under his breath, but he said nothing else. Hâroon focused his attention on renewed efforts to calm Ibrâhîm down. Though he couldn’t be sure he understood what he was saying to him, he appeared to be listening.

It took several minutes before Hâroon had Ibrâhîm calm enough that he thought he could risk trying to bring him down, and every second was filled with terror that the child would make an unpredictable move or decision that would make him fall below. He very carefully helped Ibrâhîm onto the ladder—holding on and carrying him was absolutely impossible—and then started helping him down, showing him how to maneuver his feet and his hands as necessary. Halfway to the bottom Ibrâhîm seemed to tire and become impatient. He began to whine, but his father kept calm and spoke in a calm, encouraging tone. It was with great relief that Hâroon reached the bottom and then he plucked Ibrâhîm from the ladder so that he didn’t have to continue his descent, settling him on his hip.

“Finally,” Charles remarked. He glanced at his watch. “It took you a good ten minutes to climb down.”

Hâroon held back his retort and the temptation to remind the thoughtless man that he’d been too busy making certain his son descended safely to rush. Instead, he picked up his briefcase with his free hand and went over to his daughter.

“Yusrâ, it’s okay,” he said softly. “Stop crying. We’re going now.”

Charles snorted in disgust or disapproval, but Hâroon ignored him.

Yusrâ wiped her eyes and looked up at him tearfully. “Are you mad at me, Daddy? I wasn’t very good and I didn’t make Ibrâhîm be good either.”

“Of course not,” he assured her. “No one is good all the time—not even me. Are you ready to go?”

Yusrâ nodded her head vigorously, showing how enthusiastic and desperate she was to leave. “Yes, please!”

“Let’s go then.” He jerked his head toward the door. Between Ibrâhîm and his briefcase, his hands were full so he couldn’t hold her hand and expected her to follow. “Come on.”

Yusrâ got off the chair she’d been jumping on earlier and followed. “Coming, Daddy.”

As Hâroon and the children reached the open door, both Charles and Mrs. Drew moved out of the way. Then, as they headed down the halls and toward the front door, the man trailed behind them.

Once they reached the door, Hâroon set down Ibrâhîm and clipped the leash to his son’s safety harness and attached it to the wrist of the hand holding the briefcase.

He opened the door and then, with the leash looped around the wrist of one hand, he took Yusrâ’s gloved hand with the other and led the two children out of the house, relieved to be leaving.

“I’ll be in touch with Mr. Eckhart about any damages,” Charles called after him.

Hâroon acknowledged the reminder with a nod and walked down the steps with the two children. As the door closed behind them, they walked down the path leading back toward the gates.

“I don’t like it here,” Yusrâ announced. “It wasn’t nice or fun at all. There weren’t any toys and the books were too big and too hard and boring.”

Hâroon smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry, hon. We probably won’t come back.”

When they finally reached the gate, the guard opened it without a word. Hâroon and the children walked out and the gate closed behind them. Then he led them to the car and unlocked it.

As soon as he lifted Ibrâhîm into his carseat, he removed the leash and harness, which he tucked into the diaper bag. Then he buckled him in and closed the door. On the other side of the vehicle, he helped Yusrâ climb up, seated her into her carseat, and buckled her in. Once both children were buckled in, he put his briefcase in the trunk, got into the driver’s seat, started the car, and turned on the heater.

“Where are we going now, Daddy?” Yusrâ asked. “Can we go to the park?”

“We’re going to Uncle Brandon’s house,” Hâroon told her. Though his supervisor was the furthest thing from their uncle, his children knew him as such, just as all friends and acquaintances of his parents had always been “Aunt” or “Uncle” growing up.

“Yay!” Yusrâ cheered happily. “I like going there.”

Hâroon smiled. “I know.”

In the years since he’d started working for Eckhart, Hâroon had formulated a type of friendship with him. He and the children visited him and his wife often. The twins adored Elena Eckhart and the playroom the couple had set up for their grandchildren was a plus.

The couple were very patient with both his children. Even though they could not comprehend or understand the extent of the difficulties he faced with Ibrâhîm, they were always patient and tried to be understanding. Eckhart had always understood when Hâroon had to miss work to see to his children and was even more so now that he didn’t have a wife to rely on. He had even offered to have his wife babysit for them as needed.

Though on a normal day, Brandon usually stayed in the office until after hours, he had already arranged to take off for the day. That made it possible for Hâroon to stop by the house to personally hand him the signed contract. It would also enable him to discuss the meeting at Tall Oaks, which he planned to take advantage of. It would be best to warn Eckhart of what had happened at the farm so that he wasn’t blindsided by Tyrell’s demands for payment for any damages Ibrâhîm had caused to the items he’d thrown from the library’s bookshelves.

The drive was mostly peaceful. Ibrâhîm quietly hummed to himself and stared out of the window. Yusrâ was not as peaceful as her brother, however.

“Are we there yet?” she asked for the tenth time in just five minutes.

“Not yet,” he said calmly, tamping down the temptation to pull out his hair. “Be patient, Yusrâ.”

“I was trying to,” she told him. “But it’s taking a really long time...”

Hâroon smiled at that.

🌾🌾🌾

By the time they entered the middle-class neighborhood the Eckhart couple resided in a good fifteen minutes later, Hâroon had long ago lost count of the number of times Yusrâ had asked the question. His patience and ability not to snap surprised even him. Perhaps fatherhood had nurtured and developed his patience more than he’d thought.

Brandon Eckhart, a man of moderate wealth, had chosen to live among the middle-class, though his neighborhood was of a more wealthy set of people than the one Hâroon lived in. The homes that stood away from the sidewalks were one-storey high with a porch, a garden that flowers or small vegetables could be grown in and a moderately sized lawn that children could play in.

“We’re here!” Yusrâ exclaimed happily when they entered the familiar neighborhood.

“Yes, we are,” Hâroon said with a smile as he slowly cruised down the street, eyes searching for the Eckhart home.

When his eyes found Brandon’s familiar silver sedan, he slowed as he approached its location. Then he brought his own car to a stop, pulling up behind his supervisor’s vehicle in his driveway and parking. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned off the car.

In the backseat, Yusrâ bounced and fidgeted in her car seat excitedly. Even Ibrâhîm seemed to recognize their location and voiced his approval with an ear-splitting happy screech.

Hâroon got Yusrâ out first. After unbuckling her and helping her out, he circled to the other side and removed Ibrâhîm from his carseat, too. Then, keeping a good, firm grip on the child’s hand, he went to the trunk with Yusrâ trailing behind them and removed his briefcase from it.

After locking up the car, the trio made their way up the drive, passing the Eckharts’ sedan and then crossing the grass-covered lawn to the front porch.

When Hâroon rang the bell, Brandon Eckhart opened the door just moments later. “Hâroon, come in.”

Before Hâroon could accept the invitation, Yusrâ did it for him. She ducked under Brandon’s arm and rushed into the house. “I’m going to play!”

As he stared after her with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, Ibrâhîm tugged his hand away and ran in after her with a loud screech to announce his presence. Hâroon looked back at Brandon, shrugged, and sighed. “I guess I’d better come in then.”

Brandon grinned. “I guess so.” He turned and led the way inside, and Hâroon followed him into the large entrance hall. “Tyrrell called by the way,” he commented over his shoulder. “Said something about you having out of control kids who had wrecked his home.”

Tyrell apparently had wasted any time in complaining about him, Hâroon thought as he entered behind Eckhart. “I thought he might call you,” he admitted.

Brandon smiled. “I told him he obviously didn’t know how to handle kids if he thought yours were bad.”

“He didn’t,” Hâroon agreed. “No wife and no kids from what I noticed. Just an empty, expensive house with servants. I got the feeling he didn’t like kids very much. I don’t think Ibrâhîm climbing a bookshelf in his library and throwing everything down helped though. I won’t take full responsibility for that though—his maid should have known better than to take two four-year-olds in there when there weren’t even any decent books for children in there.”

“Even my grandson climbs the shelves and throws things down,” Brandon remarked with some amusement as he closed the closet. “And he doesn’t have behavior difficulties or a disability as an excuse either. Toddlers don’t belong in rooms that have things to be destroyed. It’s common sense.”

Hâroon shrugged. “He wanted my children to be the model of good behavior he had in his head. I did tell them that he could forward any fees for damages to you to pass on to me. I’d rather not deal with him again if I can help it.”

“I don’t suppose I blame you,” Brandon remarked. “He didn’t seem particularly nice to me.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

Brandon led the way down a long red-carpeted hallway to the den. “Come and sit down, so we can discuss the meeting.”

Hâroon followed and they entered the large spacious room that served as the den and library. One one side of the room was a set of couches covered in an army-green plaid, with a mahogany coffee table—the Eckharts avoided glass furniture and pieces in all places that were accessible to children—as well as a television set on a matching mahogany stand that was on the news channel. On the other side was a group of bookshelves with a large range of books for both children and adults, ranging from stories to educational, as well as different types of board games. A large round table with six chairs had been placed in front of the shelves for those wishing to read or play a game to sit at.

The set-up of the den always reminded Hâroon of his mother’s. The bookshelf in particular was organized just like the one in her den down to the family board games kept on the bottom shelf. It gave him the feeling of home. No matter how long he lived in Oak Village or in that house, it would never be home like the old farmhouse he had grown up in.

The men sat down on the loveseat and Hâroon placed the briefcase on his lap. He withdrew the signed contract and passed it to Brandon. “The only good thing that came out of that meeting is that he signed the contract, though I’m not sure I’d want to do business with such a man, so why the company does is beyond me.”

“Not my choice, Scott,” Brandon said easily. “It was out of my hands. I prefer to go for the traditional farms rather than something like Tyrell’s. I can’t question my supervisors’ decisions though.” He grinned. “I don’t have the relationship with them that you do with me. I think they would take offense if I even asked why.”

Hâroon grinned. “I suppose I do question you about your decisions quite a bit.”

Brandon shrugged it off. “It’s good to hear others’ opinions. It can save one from making a mistake he doesn’t see at the time.”

Hâroon closed his briefcase and set it at his feet. “Tall Oaks is a top-notch, high security business. I was raised on a farm and that was not a farm. I found him mostly self-serving and money-minded.”

“I’ve heard complaints from local farmers about Tall Oaks,” Brandon admitted. “His place is monopolizing the market and making the smaller farms lose business. I wouldn’t have chosen him as a business associate, but it was the chairman’s decision and it’s out of my hands.”

Before further conversation could continue, Elena, Brandon’s wife, entered with a tray that carried two mugs of steaming black coffee and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Hâroon, it’s nice to see you,” she said warmly as she placed the tray on the coffee table.

“And you as well,” he said, instantly wondering where the children were and worrying what Ibrâhîm could be doing.

As if reading his mind, Brandon spoke up. “He brought the children, too. Where are they?”

“In the playroom,” she answered. “Don’t worry. Everything is in hand. I’ll have my eye on them.”

Relieved and put at ease by her assurances since she was one of the few he trusted to watch Ibrâhîm, he nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Eckhart.”

She left the room, and the men picked up their mugs of coffee. Since Elena Eckhart only served brewed coffee, Hâroon was more than willing to have a cup or more. They easily fell back into the conversation about Tall Oaks and the pros and cons of the partnership the company had just formed with the business. Before he even noticed, a full hour had passed by. Hâroon decided it was time to collect his children and depart. He hadn’t been disturbed or called for even once. Elena obviously had everything under control.

“I need to go,” Hâroon said. “I promised to take them to the park after the disaster at Tall Oaks. I’d rather go before I need to head home for the noon prayer.”

“Why don’t you come along with me and Elena. We have entrance tickets for that popular animal park that just opened. Your kids will enjoy it and it’ll be more of a farm experience than Tall Oaks was.”

Hâroon knew instantly what place he was referring to. Twin Cows Farm was a domestic animal park that had opened outside of the city limits. True to its name, it was set up just like a farm down to an actual barn and traditional farmhouse. Visitors could take part in the actual farm life experience by milking cows, riding the horses, and even churning butter. It had become immensely popular since its opening, especially with those who had never had the opportunity to be on a real farm.

It probably would be a fun experience for Yusrâ and Ibrâhîm, he thought, but he was sure those entry tickets were originally meant for the Eckharts’ children and grandchildren, so he shook his head. “Thank you, but we’ve already made plans anyway. Maybe next time.”

Brandon looked ready to argue, but Hâroon spoke again before he could. “Could you have your wife bring the kids?”

“Sure,” he said agreeably as he rose. “Wait for just a moment, will you?”

Hâroon nodded and Brandon left the room. He returned just moments later and sat back down. “They’re coming.”

As promised, Elena herded the twins into the room just moments later. One glance proved they were in a far better mood than they had been when they had left Tall Oaks. Their eyes were shining brightly and both were grinning.

“We’re going now,” Hâroon told them. “Say goodbye to Uncle Brandon and Aunt Elena, and tell them thank you for letting you play.”

Disappointment flashed across Yusrâ’s face. Ibrâhîm didn’t appear to comprehend what was going on yet since he didn’t protest or have any reaction.

“Do we have to go?” Yusrâ asked.

“Yes, hon,” Hâroon said. “We’ll go to the park now. Will you like that?”

Yusrâ brightened and seemed to accept their departure more happily after that. “Okay.” She turned to the couple. “Thank you, Aunt Elena. Thank you, Uncle Brandon. I had fun.”

The couple smiled. “Thank you for coming,” Elena said.

“Come again,” Brandon responded with a smile. Then before Hâroon could take charge and lead the children to the door, he spoke again. “Before you leave, I have a very important assignment for you, Yusrâ.”

The four-year-old was instantly intrigued. “Like the ones you give Daddy?”

Eyes sparkling, Brandon nodded his head dramatically. “Oh, yes! You see, there’s this animal park, and everyone keeps talking about it. So I want you to go with me and we can find out if it’s really as good as people say. Can you do that?”

Yusrâ lit up instantly. “Oh, yeah! I can do it, Uncle Brandon!”

“Awesome!” Brandon said enthusiastically. “I was worried it’d be too hard for you or you might be too busy. I’m so glad you can come, but you should make sure with your daddy first. He said you were going to the park, I think, right?”

“We can go later,” Yusrâ assured him and then turned her bright smile on Hâroon. “Right, Daddy? We can go to the animal park with Uncle Brandon, right?”

Hâroon knew when he had lost the battle. He graciously bowed out with a smile. “Of course we can.”

Yusrâ grinned. “Yay!”

“You’re incorrigible,” Hâroon said under his breath to his supervisor. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to say no if you asked her.”

Brandon smirked. “So I did.” He turned to his wife. “Our problem is solved. Hâroon and his kids will come with us to the animal park. We won’t go alone or waste those extra tickets.” He turned back to Hâroon. “Be happy, Scott. The kids will have fun and my wife can take at least one of them off your hands so you can relax a bit.”

Hâroon smiled. “Very well. Thank you for the invitation—even if you did manipulate my acceptance.”

“It was necessary, I assure you,” Brandon remarked. “Nothing is lonelier and more out of place than an old couple going to family venues without a family or children. You’re doing us a favor by coming along.”

Hâroon relented. “Fine, but I need to stop by the house to pray and check if Ibrâhîm needs a diaper change.”

“That’s fine.”

The couple left the room to get ready. In that time, Hâroon herded his children to the door. When Brandon and Elena returned, Brandon opened the door and led the way out.

With the briefcase in one hand and Ibrâhîm’s hand in the other, Hâroon followed. Elena flanked the group, holding Yusrâ’s hand. The group stopped at Hâroon’s car first, and he placed the briefcase in the trunk as the couple buckled the twins into their carseats, which he allowed—Brandon and Elena were two of the very few people Ibrâhîm didn’t mind touching him.

After the children had been buckled in, Hâroon made his way to the driver’s side as the couple made their way to their own car. Hâroon listened to Yusrâ excitedly chatter about the park as he started the car. He pulled away first to drive home, followed by Brandon’s car.

When he arrived home and parked in front of the closed garage door, Brandon parked next to him.

“I thought we’re going to the animal park,” Yusrâ spoke up. “Why are we at home?”

“We are,” Hâroon assured her. “I need to pray and check if Ibrâhîm’s diaper needs a change. Then we’ll go.”

“Okay,” she said, relieved.

Hâroon switched off the car and got out. He got out the children and herded them toward the front door.

Brandon and Elena got out of their car and accompanied them.

“We’ll watch the kids for you while you pray,” Elena said as they entered the house together.

Hâroon was relieved to have someone present to watch the kids so he could pray without worrying about what the children might be doing, especially Ibrâhîm. “Thank you.”

Once the Eckhart couple were settled in the den with the children, Hâroon excused himself to do wûdhû and pray. When he returned, both Elena and the children were gone. Only Brandon remained in the den.

“Yusrâ wanted to show Elena the playroom,” Brandon explained before Hâroon could voice an inquiry. “Ibrâhîm went with them.”

“I’ll get him changed and then we can go,” Hâroon said.

When he entered the playroom, Elena had both children building a tower with her. Hâroon got a fresh diaper from the bureau and took Ibrâhîm. “Time to get you changed.”

Ibrâhîm wasn’t happy about being separated from his toys and made a fuss as Hâroon led him toward the bathroom.

After Ibrâhîm had been changed, Hâroon made Yusrâ use the toilet. Then he and the twins as well as the Eckhart couple left the house together. After the house had been locked up and everyone got into their separate cars, the two cars left the neighborhood behind and started on the journey out of the city towards Twin Cows Farm for what would hopefully be a day of fun for the entire group.

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Twin Cows Farm was modeled to be exactly like a farm with its corralled horses, penned goats, and roaming cows. There was a barn, chicken coop, dairy, and milking shed, too. Families and children who had never had the opportunity or time to go down to the country to visit an authentic farm had the chance to look around and watch how a farm was run and to even partake in some of the activities with the help and guidance of the farm’s employees.

Hâroon, who had been born and raised on an actual farm, felt silly visiting an animal amusement park that pretended to be one when he could just go back to Elm Creek if he was in the mood to see one. However, since Brandon Eckhart had convinced Yusrâ it would be fun, he didn’t have much choice in the matter if he didn’t want to disappoint her, and he could at least find out if it was all it was hyped up to be.

When they arrived at Twin Cows Farm, they walked past a ticket booth providing entry tickets for visitors, entered through the open gates after showing the tickets Brandon had procured, and then wandered to another ticket booth to buy a roll to share for the activities offered, though Hâroon thought it likely that Yusrâ—and Ibrâhîm if he was up to it—would be taking part more than him. Then they walked on, Brandon and Elena in the lead with Yusrâ skipping along between them, while he walked at an easy pace in the rear with Ibrâhîm.

“Look, Daddy!” Yusrâ turned, prancing in one place as she pointed to the corrals. “Horses!”

He smiled. “Yes, I see them.”

“Just like at Grandma and Grandpa’s farm,” she said. She skipped closer, accompanied by Elena. As she reached the fence, a sleek chestnut gelding put his head over the rail, and she patted his nose with a grin. “Look, I think he likes me.”

“Yes, dear,” Elena grinned, her blue eyes twinkling. “I think he does, too.”

Hâroon smiled as he watched. Some young children would be afraid of large animals like horses, but Yusrâ wasn’t. She had her grandmother’s streak of bravery. He hoped it didn’t turn into a reckless sort of daring. His mother’s escapades, once amusing stories, were the nightmares of most parents.

He led Ibrâhîm over to the friendly horse to join his sister, and Elena stepped back to stand beside her husband. “Come, Ibrâhîm. Let’s meet the horse, too.”

He guided Ibrâhîm’s hand to pet the horse,  but after the first stroke he seemed to decide he didn’t like the sensation and yanked his hand away. Hâroon didn’t force him. Yusrâ continued petting the horse with a smile, giggling as the animal lipped her fingers.

“Can I ride it?” she asked. “Like we did at Grandpa’s farm?”

Hâroon smiled. Riding was a generous term for what Yusrâ was capable of. On their last visit, his cousin ’Itbân, who managed equine care at Elm Creek, had put her on top of one of the mares and then led it around the corral as she held on. When she’d been put down, she’d run to Hâroon and told him she could now ride horses. He hadn’t had the heart to correct her.

He noticed in a nearby connecting pen two of the employees led two horses, each with a young child on top. In a separate one, horses were ridden around an arena by older and more experienced riders, both children and adults. Nearby the horse corrals was a posted sign—“Two tickets per one-hour horse ride.”

“Sure, hon,” he said and then pointed out the corral the young children were being taken to. “We’ll wait for one of them to come back, so we can ask.”

Yusrâ’s eyes shone with excitement and she looked toward the other children being led around. “How long?”

Hâroon had no way of knowing how long those children had been on their chosen rides, so he had no accurate and definite answer for her. “Soon inn shâ Allâh.”

Thankfully, before Yusrâ’s limited patience ran out, a tall young man of lean build led one of the horses back to the main holding corral, lifted a dark-haired little boy who had to be no more than five off the animal’s back, and then led it inside as the blue-eyed child ran to his parents, jabbering excitedly.

“I rode a horse! Did you see, Mommy? Did you see, Daddy?”

“Yes, dear,” his mother’s voice said, growing distant as he was led away between the young couple. “We saw. You were wonderful.”

The young man, possessing curly chestnut-brown hair and bright blue eyes, left the pen and came up to Hâroon and the children. Rick Foster was the name on the tag clipped to his collared shirt. He looked to be around the same age as Ya’qoob’s twenty two years. His smile was open and friendly.

“Hello, are you interested in a horse ride?” he asked.

“Yes!” Yusrâ said before Hâroon could reply. Then she pointed to the horse she’d been petting. “I want to ride this one!”

“A very good choice,” Rick told her. Then his eyes flicked to Ibrâhîm. “What about this young man? Would he like to ride, too?”

Yusrâ giggled. “Ibrâhîm isn’t a man! He’s still a boy!”

“Oops, my bad,” Rick said. “Would Ibrâhîm like to ride, too?”

Hâroon liked his manner. He seemed to know how to talk with children. Hâroon wouldn’t be putting Ibrâhîm on a horse though. It was far too risky. Maybe later on when he was older and was more aware of dangers. At his current stage of development, he knew Ibrâhîm could very likely throw himself off the horse as it was on the move.

“Just her,” he said, gesturing to Yusrâ.

“Ibrâhîm can’t sit long enough to ride a horse,” Yusrâ confided knowingly. “He might fall.”

“Well, then.” Rick pointed to the sign with a grin. “Can you read that, young lady?”

“My name is Yusrâ!” she told him.

“Yusrâ then,” he amended. “Can you read, Yusrâ?”

“A little,” she admitted. “Daddy is teaching me.”

“Do you think you can read the sign?” he asked.

“I can try.” She walked up to it and proceeded to sound out the letters. “Ta-wa-oh... Tw-oh?”

“Two,” Hâroon told her.

She nodded and continued on to the next word. “Ta-ih-ka-eh-ta-sa...” She looked at her father. “It’s a very long word, Daddy.”

He smiled. “Need help?” At her nod, he shortened it for her. “Ti-ki-ts. What do you think it says?”

“Tickets!” She turned to Rick. “Two tickets. That means I pay two tickets, right?”

He nodded, grinning. “Correct. You’re quite smart.”

“I know,” she said, making Hâroon choke back a laugh. He heard Brandon and Elena chuckle from behind him. “Daddy says so, too.”

Rick laughed. “And he’s right. Now can I have two tickets, please?”

Yusrâ turned to her father, a tiny hand extended. “Two tickets, please, Daddy.”

Hâroon ripped two tickets from the long strip they’d bought at the ticket booth and gave them to her, and she in turn handed them to Rick. “Here you go. Can I ride the horse now?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll just go and get him for you.” With that, he tucked the tickets into his pocket and went back into the corral. When he reached the animal Yusrâ had chosen, he led it out to her. “Ready to go?”

“Yes!” Yusrâ cried, jumping up and down. “I’m ready! I’m very, very, very ready! Let’s go!”

“Alright then,” Rick said with a laugh, lifting her up on the saddle. “Up we go.” After settling her, he guided her hands to hold on the saddle horn. “Hold good.”

“I am,” she told him.

“Great.” He set off, leading her toward the young children’s arena. Ibrâhîm, Hâroon, and the Eckhart couple followed, stopping right at the boundary. Rick led Yusrâ and the horse inside to join the children already present, and Hâroon watched from the other side of the fence.

“Look, Daddy!” Yusrâ called out when she passed close to where he stood with her brother and the older couple. “Look, Ibby! Look, Uncle Brandon, Aunt Elena!”

“We’re looking, dear,” Elena said with a laugh.

Yusrâ circled the arena for an entire hour before Rick announced her time was up. By then, the children who had been in the corral with her had long ago left and other children had replaced them. Rick led the horse out of the corral and lifted her down. Then as he took the horse back to the main corral, Yusrâ ran to Hâroon’s side.

“That was fun!” she announced.

Hâroon smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Let’s go and see what else there is to do.”

As he led the way, she pranced at his side, and the Eckhart couple followed. “What else is here?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The next activity they came upon was the milking being done at the milking shed. Employees led cows to the shed from the nearby barn and showed visitors how to milk the cows. Even young children took turns, but with an overseeing adult at their side to provide assistance. Hâroon wondered how his family would react to discovering that milking cows was now an amusement rather than work. Farm equipment had since been updated, too—only very small operations with few cows still milked by hand.

Yusrâ pointed toward the milk shed. “Can I do it, too?”

Hâroon nodded his consent. “Sure.”

Yusrâ looked at her brother. “Do you think Ibrâhîm might want to try?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said. He led the way up to the milking shed with Ibrâhîm, and she followed. “Come on.”

When they reached the milk shed, they were charged a ticket each. Yusrâ happily went along with a young blond woman working with the children. She sat on the stool before a black-spotted cow, following the directions given by her adult companion. She was guided on how to pull on the teats, reminding Hâroon of when he himself had learned how to milk a cow from his father. He had not been very much older than his daughter was now. As milk sprayed into the bucket, she giggled gleefully.

“Look, Daddy!” she called. “I’m milking a cow by myself!”

He smiled. “Good job, hon.”

Yusrâ filled a quarter of the bucket. Then it was her brother’s turn. However, things didn’t go as smoothly as they had with Yusrâ. At first, the same woman tried to take him, too, but when she reached for his hand, he wrenched it away.

“He doesn’t like strangers,” Hâroon told her. “I’ll take him. I’ve milked a cow before so I can manage.”

She obligingly stood aside, and he led Ibrâhîm to the cow and stool. He tried to make him sit, but he jumped back up instantly, similar to a Jack-in-the-box. Hâroon sat down himself and placed him on his lap. Ibrâhîm didn’t seem to mind that since he didn’t try to move or slip off.

That had been the easy part. He uttered a bismillâh under his breath. For any other child, following the simple command of squeezing and pulling would probably be easy. There was no such guarantee with Ibrâhîm or that he would even want to try. Nevertheless, Hâroon tried to guide Ibrâhîm’s right hand to the udder to show him how to do just that.

It completely backfired. As soon as Ibrâhîm’s fingers made contact, he shrieked—loudly—and tried to twist away.

“I don’t think Ibrâhîm wants to do it,” Yusrâ remarked.

“No,” Hâroon agreed. “I don’t think he does.” He knew Ibrâhîm was not going to cooperate and he certainly didn’t want to risk a meltdown in public by pushing him, so he gave up the endeavor. Instead, he lifted Ibrâhîm off his lap and stood. “Come on, buddy. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Ibrâhîm calmed as soon as they moved away from the cow, so he didn’t cause too much of a scene, though Hâroon was aware of some bystanders staring. He ignored them. The milk Yusrâ had accumulated was bottled and given to them, and then they walked on with the Eckhart couple.

“I’m not sure we’ll find anything Ibrâhîm can do here that he’ll actually want to and which isn’t a danger to him,” Hâroon confided in his supervisor and friend.

“Don’t worry, Hâroon,” Brandon said. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

Hâroon wasn’t so sure.