People Who Are Happy Don't Die

She sits next to him in the car. She likes to pretend that they are
more than just friends. She opens the glove compartment, pulls out the
CD that she wants to listen to and slides it in. Alexander's driving
fast. Sometimes she tells him to slow down, because she wants to enjoy
the scenery. He laughs when she says this cause he thinks Cairo is
ugly. The city is covered in scars. But she understands its scars. She
can relate. Because she is scarred too. She reaches up and touches the
scar on her forehead. She hates it. Even though everyone tells her it
gives her character. Her mother tells her she should have it surgically
removed. But she's thinks that if she does, she'll be left without a
character. Even if it's a bad character. And then she'll be
nothing.

The windows are rolled up. The sounds of the city are drowned out by
the music. "It just takes some time, little girl, you're in the middle
of the ride?" She pretends that the song was written for her. And she
sings it as if it was. He glances over at her, and smiles. She knows
he's looking at her, and she likes that. Likes it when he watches her
sing. It makes her feel special. He always tells her she has a
beautiful voice. So she sings every chance she gets so that maybe he'll
fall in love with her voice. And then with her. But it never
happens.

He slows down at a traffic light. She stops singing. He asks her, "Why
did you stop?" She looks at him, his hands on the wheel, waiting for
the traffic light to change. She thinks Alexander has beautiful hands.
She shrugs her shoulders, and he reaches over and pinches her cheek.
She hates it when he does that. It makes her feel like a child. And
she's not. She's a woman. And she wishes he would notice. But he never
does.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" he asks. And she feels like he is asking a
child if she liked the chocolate bar he gave her. She feels so small
sitting next to him. "It was ok, I guess. I didn't like the ending." He
expected that answer. She never likes endings. She says they are too
final. That they leave no room for the imagination. "He shouldn't have
died." He asks her why. And she shrugs her shoulders again, "I don't
want to talk about it." She'd rather just roll down the window, and
sing at the top of her voice so that all of Cairo can hear. But if she
did, he'd tell her that people were watching, that she was letting the
cold January air into the car, that she should stop. So she sits
quietly at his side, waiting for him to insist that she tell him why
she didn't like the ending. And he does. So she gives in. "Well, he
finally starts to lead a normal life. He's happy. People who are happy
don't die." And she regrets saying it, the moment it's out of her
mouth. But he brushes it aside, as if he didn't hear her. The traffic
light changes, he shifts gears, and goes back to concentrating on the
road ahead.

People who are happy don't die. His wife died. They had been married
for four months. She was in a car accident. It was right before
Christmas. A truck slammed into her car. The road was littered with the
presents she had just bought for an orphanage she volunteered at on
weekends. Glass shards covered the asphalt. And she bled to death in
the front seat of her car. The police brought the presents to
Alexander's door, and told him that his wife was dead. And he didn't
want to believe them. We took the presents to the orphanage and told
them what had happened. One little girl cried that her mommy was gone.
That she was meant to come and take her away. But the angels took her
mommy instead.

Alexander's wife died three years ago. He still lights a candle next to
her picture everyday. He leaves it to burn itself out. And then the
next day, replaces it with another candle. He thinks that it might
bring her back. That she'll be waiting for him in the dark, after the
candle has gone out, smiling because she knows Alexander loves her. But
she isn't coming back. She's with the angels now. And Alexander is
jealous of the angels. But they don't care.

People who are happy don't die. She wished she had never said it. In
the film, the man was happy. At the end at least. But the angels came
and took him away too. She knows that it's just a film. That it's not
true. After the scene was shot, the man got up and stepped out of the
car, his heart still beating. But in that moment, the woman crying over
his body, she believed. Believed in a way that Alexander hadn't
believed when the police came to his door. And the film left another
little scar inside of her. Soon enough, there would be no room left for
her because of all the scars.

"Alexander?" Her voice sounds strange to her after the long silence.
She doesn't wait for him to reply. "I love you." He looks over at her
again, but this time she doesn't enjoy it because she 's shaking. He
smiles, "I love you too kid." Kid. She doesn't like that. She is trying
to tell him that she loves him, that she wants to take his dead wife's
place. And he calls her a kid. She changes her mind. She won't tell him
now because his mind is still swimming with thoughts, three years old.
Thoughts he is never going to forget. She wonders if his wife still
remembers. Do dead people have a memory? She's going to. She's going to
remember Alexander forever, even after she dies. And she wants to tell
him that. Wants him to know. But he'll probably be thinking about his
wife when she says that. She wants him to think of her instead. But he
never will. Alexander is going to love a dead woman for the rest of his
life. And she's going to love Alexander for the rest of hers.

She reaches up to her forehead again, her fingers tracing her scar. It
still feels ugly to her. But Alexander tells her he doesn't even notice
it. But it reminds her of all the ugly things in her life. It reminds
her that she is not happy. She doesn't want to die until she knows what
happiness is like. And when she does. When Alexander loves her. She
won't die. Cause people who are happy don't die.