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109 pages

English

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Description

Zainab is a thirteen year old facing a LOT of problems that threaten to overwhelm her: manipulation, bullying, the sexual exploitation of a friend and eventually an attempted suicide.

But when a teacher offers her the opportunity to direct a school house league play, Zainab thinks it might be the chance she's looking for.

If she can bring the most popular bully in school, in line, maybe she can prove she fits in.

Maybe...

Winner of the 2001 Manitoba Young Reader's Choice Honor Award
Nominated for the 2000 Ruth Schwartz Award
Nominated for the 2000 Red Maple Award

Sujets

Philosophie et théologie

Religion

Islam

Informations

Publié par	eBookIt.com
Date de parution	25 mars 2013
Nombre de lectures	1
EAN13	9781456612672
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0198€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Dahling, If You Luv Me, Would You Please, Please Smile

by
Rukhsana Khan

Copyright 2013 by Rukhsana Khan
All rights reserved

Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com

ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-1267-2

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Originally published by Stoddart Kids 1999

Cover art by Chum McLeod, used with permission.

Contact: Rukhsana Khan can be reached at
rukhsana@rukhsanakhan.com

Dahling if You Luv Me Would You Please Please Smile

Zainab is a thirteen year old facing a LOT of problems that threaten to overwhelm her: manipulation, bullying, the sexual exploitation of a friend and an attempted suicide.
But when a teacher offers her the opportunity to direct a school house league play, Zainab thinks it might be the chance she’s looking for.
If she can bring the most popular bully in school, in line, maybe she can prove she fits in.
Maybe...

Winner of the 2001 Manitoba Young Reader’s Choice Honor Award
Nominated for the 2000 Ruth Schwartz Award
Nominated for the 2000 Red Maple Award
Glossary Abi Arabic term for father Alim Arabic term for scholar/learned man Ami Urdu term for mother Asr Third of the five daily Muslim prayers—prayed just after mid-afternoon Bethi Urdu feminine term of endearment, ‘my dear’ Assalaamu alaikum Arabic phrase and Muslim greeting meaning ‘Peace be on you’ Atchi bethi Urdu phrase meaning ‘good girl’ Dua A small prayer/supplication Fajr First of the five daily Muslim prayers—prayed at dawn, before sunrise Gee Urdu term of respect agreement Haa Hai Urdu phrase equivalent to ‘Oh dear’ Hadith Arabic word meaning ‘saying of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)’ Insha Allah Arabic phrase meaning ‘if God wills’ Jehangir Second Moghul emperor who ruled India in the sixteenth century Karayla A vegetable also known as ‘bitter melon’ or ‘bitter gourd’ Kufi A small cap worn by some Muslim men Kurtha A tunic top worn by men and women Maghrib Fourth of the five daily Muslim prayers—prayed just after sunset Nafil Extra, non-obligatory prayers Quran The Muslim sacred scripture Rakat A unit of prayer Roti Flat bread Shab-Khair Persian phrase meaning ‘good night’ Shah Jehan Third Mughal emperor who ruled India and built the Taj Mahal Taj Mahal A world famous marble structure built as a mausoleum to Shah Jehan’s wife Va Va Urdu phrase meaning ‘Oh Wow!’ Wudu Ritual ablution/washing before each of the five daily prayers Wa alaikum assalam Reply to Muslim greeting—means ‘and on you be peace too’ Zuhr Second of the five daily Muslim prayers—prayed right after high noon

About the Author
Rukhsana Khan is an award-winning author and storyteller. Born in Lahore, Pakistan, she immigrated to Canada at the age of three.
Her books have been sold to Italy, Japan, Indonesia, China, Australia and New Zealand and have received international acclaim and recognition.
She has been featured at conferences and festivals in: Canada, the U.S., Denmark, Italy, South Africa, Singapore, and Mexico.
She has toured all over Canada and the U.S. and has appeared numerous times on television and radio.
She lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband and family.
For more information visit her website: www.rukhsanakhan.com

Chapter 1
I guess I’ve always wanted to fit in. But mostly, I can’t afford it.
Deanford, being a public school, doesn’t have an official school uniform, but nine out of ten kids wear Lucky jeans. They’re easy to spot because of the little red tag sewn into the seam of the right rear pocket. Stupid place to put a tag. In order to read it you have to look at someone’s bum.
They cost more than eighty dollars a pair. Just looking at them makes me sick. At least 450 kids at Deanford wear Lucky’s. What a waste. Especially when there are so many poor people going hungry. Why would anyone pay that much for a pair of pants? I can just picture people twenty years from now looking back at us, thinking what fools we are forking out that kind of money.
But if you want to be accepted, no other brand will do. And they have to have that little red tag, as small as your smallest fingernail, intact. If the tag’s not there it means you’re a cheapskate and you bought seconds, not first quality.
There’s a game where they try to rip off each other’s tag. In order to do that, they grab at each other’s bums!
I thought I was okay in my polyester pants. They look like Lucky’s, they have a zipper and pockets and belt loops, they just don’t cost that much. At least I dress better than Premini Gupta, the only other “Indian” in the school.
Even if I wanted a pair I would never ask my parents. They have me, my older sister and the twins to provide for. Eighty dollars goes a long way towards feeding us. I know, I’ve seen the grocery bill.
My polyester pants are scratchy, and when the static builds up, they cling to my legs, but it’s not until Art class one day that I realize they won’t do.
I’m intent on my picture when I feel a hesitant tap on my elbow, and hear a whispered, “What’s that you’re drawing, Zainab?”
I look up, straight into Jenny’s baby blue eyes, or at least as much of them as I can see through her long stringy bangs. She sits beside me in most of my classes. She’s one of the few girls that will. She’s pretty except for her acne. Her complexion is a mass of angry red pimples in different stages of ripeness. Maybe that’s why she lets her ash blonde hair hang half over her face like a screen between her and the world. But what makes the boys notice her are her breasts. They call her “Jenny-big-jugs” when she’s not around.
She steps a bit closer. “That’s an interesting picture, Zainab. What is it?”
I relax a little. She sounds sincere. “It’s supposed to be hell.”
Our art assignment is to draw a picture using silhouettes. I made a stencil of a man’s head in profile. It has a long sharp nose and a witch’s pointed chin. It’s supposed to be a devil. I cut out two rows of them from black paper, highlighting the edges with grey as if they’re charcoal turning to ash. I’m just about to glue the cut-outs to a background of red, orange and yellow flames.
Jenny pushes aside some of her bangs and says softly, “It’s kind of neat”.
I flush, mumbling thanks.
“But maybe you could, I mean, why not make the chins and noses a little smaller? More human. It’ll mean we all can end up in hell.”
Good point. I trim the noses and chins to a decent length.
Kevin appears. “Why do you have flames going all the way to the top?”
“I think it says in the Quran that there’ll be flames above and below. No escaping them.”
“Oh.” He watches me add some more white for a moment then says, “You know, Zainab, I used to wear clothes like you.”
I’m too intent on my picture to notice the change in the tone of his voice. I mutter, “Really?”
“Yeah, then my dad got a job.”
There’s a burst of laughter from Kevin’s friends. They just happened to be within earshot. I should have known.
At first I think Jenny’s in on it. But through her curtain of hair I see her face redden. She says, “Oh Kevin. That wasn’t very nice.”
Kevin’s face grows still. The laughter dies away. No one else could have said that to him and gotten away with it. Now Kevin looks as uncomfortable as I feel. His mouth is set in a grim line. He turns away. So do his followers.
What’s wrong with my clothes? I’m clean. I’m coordinated. I just don’t happen to be wearing Lucky’s.
Jenny has a pair. They’re so tight you could read the year of a quarter in the back pocket. And she has on a tight sweater. Every line, every curve of her body is clear from her slim hips and tiny waist to the dents in her shoulders where her straining bra straps cut into the flesh.
Premini Gupta sits across from me. When I look up at her she quickly looks away, flicking aside her long black braid. She heard the whole thing but she too hadn’t laughed, though for a different reason. She’s wearing a faded calico dress, pink knee socks and a yellow cardigan that gives her brownish-yellow skin an even yellower tint. The sleeves of her cardigan are too short, revealing bony wrists. If anyone dresses like her father is out of work, it’s Premini. Why do they pick on me?
The very next day, Premini comes to school in a brand-new pair of Lucky jeans that are so stiff she has trouble sitting down. There’s a smirk on her face, and a wrinkle in her hooked nose as she looks me over. Now I’m the only one in all grade eight who doesn’t own a pair of Lucky’s.
I’m standing in line to go in after recess when I overhear someone talking about why they’re ripping off each other’s tags. Apparently there’s a store promotion going on. If you bring in twenty-two Lucky tags, you get a brand new pair of Lucky jeans for free!
I, too, begin hunting Lucky tags.
At first, I stalk them openly, making a grab as Jenny walks by. Her label is hanging by a few threads, just begging to be torn off. But she turns on me. “Zainab! You shouldn’t be ripping tags! It’s not fair. You don’t have a tag I can rip.”
Her gentle reprimand is more embarrassing than if she’d yelled at me. And yet it’s not fair. I can’t get a tag unless I rip a tag, but I can’t rip a tag unless I have a tag. I’ll have to be sneaky about it.
During Gym, in the middle of a soccer game, I tell the teacher I have to go to the bathroom. Then I sneak into the change room and corral my prey. I’m not stealing. I’m just playing the game in a more efficient manner.
It gives me particular satisfaction to rip off Cheryl’s tag. She’s Kevin’s official girlfriend, though that doesn’t stop him from flirting with other girls. He calls them his harem and he’s constantly teasing them, pinching them, and touching them. He likes to spread him