My Life Beyond The Pale - Azooz

My Life Beyond Te Pale

Azeez AlKalidy

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I’m not a writer. I don’t don’t offer you an imaginative novel no vel with charismatic char ismatic heroes or malicious maliciou s villains. I’m writing down my life changing chang ing events. events . I give you a story of humans that were presented unwillingly to the inequityy of life. And it’ inequit it ’s unbearable odds od ds that ended up defining defi ning them. We’r W e’ree Only as good as we’ we’re re allowed to be. Tere are those, who had to commit unforgivable acts. Now bearing forever burning guilt of knowing they don’t deserve any forgiveness. What you do doesn doesn’’t only defines you. It is a heritage for you, and everyone around you. Tis story is my heritage. You’ ou’re re free f ree to judge me by it. And you can c an never tell what you might do if you were born in these circumstances. Have I done things differently provided with the same awareness and logical insight? We all work according to our logic. And even our mistakes sounded like a good idea at the time. For most of those events, I might have just didn’t know any better. No, I’m not here to make excuses. It’s a confession that I hope I can release out of my mind and into these words.

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Chapter One: For What It Was Worth.

Waking up in the morning, pushing the sheets while hoping to push Waking the uneasy feeling f eeling from f rom my stomach. Getting back bac k to sleep won’t won’t work this time because I’ve done it many times already. I slept early, had many random dreams dream s where I’m always working on a problem to solve. s olve. Unsure if I spent the whole tim e sleeping or just in a trance state between dreams. I want to escape this life into the another. A dream world where I’m never the same person twice. Because I stopped trying to be happy even knowing that I could. “What will you do without me?”, Said my youngest brother, Mahmood. rying to embarrass me into saying something sweet. “I don’ don’tt know, nev never er noti noticed ced you anyway.” I repl replied ied,, joki jokingl nglyy, “I was thinking about getting a dog.” dog.” “Assh Asshole, ole,”” he snar snarled led,, “You’re an assh asshole ole!”. !”. “ Tat Tat’’s just stating the obviou obvious.” s.” I said, then continued continued,, tr trying ying to be more serious, “Now hurry up, You need to be at the airport two hours before your flight. I’m excited to know if I’ll ever miss you.” Couldn’t help myself from making a joke at the end. He tried finding something intelligent to say, but couldn’t. So I continued, “You “Y ou need to call her again,” paused for a second, before saying the next sentence because this is happening, and I can’t change it, “for the last time, before getting on the airplane. Don’t forget”. 4


“Yeah, I know, I wil will.” l.” He was going to take the money and leave no matter what I do or say. God knows I’ve been trying to convince him to wait for me for f or the last month. I could physically force him to stay, or I could take my half of the money. money. But as I was trying tr ying to talk him hi m out of it, I realized realize d how bad I want to leave, myself. And knowing there is a chance of a new life but just out of reach, every day is torture. And with his depression, he can end up with suicide, or a failed attempt, for the second time. And I can’t risk that. So if he’s leaving anyway, I’m letting him go with a clear conscience. “You know you’re a better person than I am,” I said while we’re walking down the the stairs, stairs, about to to close the door behind him, him, “Smarter and more resourceful. resou rceful. Tere is nothing nothi ng you can’t can’t do. So don don’t’t be afraid, you can do this.” “I know know,” ,” He said, tr trying ying not to cr cryy. Opened the door and he hugged me awkwardl awkwardlyy, I didn’t expect nor planned p lanned to do that. “It “It’’s ok, good boy, boy, now go.” “I can’ can’t!”, t!”, Said twitchin twitchingg his face. I decide decidedd to spare him the embarrassment of seeing him cry cr y and said: “Get “Get out of here, be a man!” And he quickly carried his back and started walking. I took few steps up and watched him with his weird walk, leaving. I’m now completely and utterly alone. Te fact that I spend my life taking care of other people made no difference.

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Chapter Two: wo: Born Born again.

I feel I’m reborn while fighting myself for longlasting seconds. Heavy Heavy breathing, Paralyzing anger turning into a will to scream. Rose my chin up to face a bright white light, over illuminating concrete, white painted walls. Tree sofas, one of them cutting the large living room in half, and a V at the corner. Te other half is the entrance to the house with the stairs on the right. It’s where I’m planning to run after saying my peace. My mother is in front of me holding my two years old brother and yelling at me “Go away!! I don don’’t love you. I love Mahmood Mahmood”. ”. It was suppose supposedd to be a joke or something to make my brother feel “Better about himself.” Or maybe a wrong way to show her love to him. I’m holding the words that I thought of saying them for so long. It wasn’’t the first time it happens. But it was the time I decided not to wasn just “take it it”” anymore. I screamed screamed with with all my will will to live and and the sense of injustice a four years old could have, “You “Y ou never loved me ever since I was born!”. But it wasn was n’t in a harsh way that I imagined im agined it would sound. sou nd. Instead, it was with overwhelming emotion that that manifested as tears. tears. It wasn’t her fault since she didn’t realize the early awareness I might have developed. Sounding like an older person, is a trade I had ever since I can remember. My mother started hugging me while laughing. Admiring the first 6


serious words for her little boy. I’m trying to pull myself away from her while she’s holding on to me. Ten she said with with a smiling face, face, “I’m sorry.” sorry.” It was the first time I hear her apologizing to anyone. I’m just a kid, but I knew what “sorry” meant since I had to say it from time to time. Maybe more than my other siblings. And for a second, I almost noticed a sparkling tear in her eye. It was then that I stopped moving. I’m no longer mad at her. Seeing Seei ng with the side of my eye my father, as he’s silentl silentlyy obser observing ving us at the end of the room. It’s my first memory. It was while I was living in Diyala, north of Baghdad, 1994. It might have been a good dinner story for them, from the way it always repeated. My mother, her story and the direction it took, is what pushed mine to make such a deform shape. On a winter night, while we were sitting around a stove, heating an Iraqi bread, she baked herself. While telling us the sadness she felt for marrying marr ying my m y father. We would have had blue bl ue eyes, she joked. But what a woman’s choice is to this society but an act of rebellion. Obliged to accept that she s he doesn’t doesn’t own her life, lif e, alongside millions m illions of other women. women . Tey say marriage is fate and chance, but it’ it ’s her father who decided which blind opportunity to define the the direction she she takes. 7


He, standing heartless, her father, her master and the master of the silent mother standing next to him, with a point of his finger, ordered her to marry my father. Ending her life as a sixteen years old high school student living in Basra, south of Iraq. Hoping to become a medical student to take care of her mother. What can she do against a power imposed by a thousand years old tradition? Can she scream in protest of these traditions that defined her, and her father and gave them a reason to live? Didn’t love nor wanted my father. He’s not a good-looking guy, but that’s hardly the reason why. He has no education but elementary school. Working as a truck driver, with reddish and hairy skin and a thick mustache and a small (big) belly. Over ten years older than her, tall and polite. His manners and shyness got him where he is in life. It was more than what he deserved, intellectually speaking. His family knew my grandmother. Also knew she had a lot of girls, Seven, to be precise. Tey knew her husband wouldn’t refuse them. Tey were right about that since no one bothered to ask my mother mother.. Although, she gave them an answer anyway by taking all the pills in the house to kill herself. It didn’t work, and it was kept a secret from her father out of fear. I have just one picture of her while she’s 16 years old. You never aged a day, people say to her. She’s standing with a big and beautiful smile and a cute curly hair that reaches her shoulders. My father is standing 8


next to her. If I didn’t know her, I would have said she’s happy. Te sadder she is, as long as she hasn’t yet shed any tears, the wider and more vivid her smile becomes. Perfect, as it was the day her life ended along with any dream of the future she might have. What made it worse is a month after af ter the wedding, her father left the country to Saudi Arabia. aking the last string of hope she had that she may be able to abandon my father. Now,, 14 years after Now af ter,, she’s a mother of three boys and one girl. g irl. First my brother Khalid, the storyteller. My sister, Zena, wouldn’t shoo a wolf biting off o ff her arm. a rm. Me, Azoo Azooz, z, troublem troublemaker aker.. And my younger you nger brother broth er Mahmood. Harmless as a dove. It is fitting because he wished to be one. If someone loves you, is it cruel not to love them back? And is it a sin to even hate them? Te more she hated my father; he became attached to her her.. Which made her hate him even more. He brought her a red Damask rose from the garden. With a confused smile, she Slowly extended her hand to him. ”Tanks.”” He smiled and went back to care for the garden. Wh ”Tanks. While ile she started laughing angrily and shaking her hand as soon as he’s walking far enough not not to hear her comments comments about how lame he is. “He thinks I want a flower? Wh What at a waste, it will just die”. Continued while filling a glass of water and putting the rose in it, 9


“It’’s much more beautiful just to leave it where it was in the “It garden.” Perhaps it’s her way of refusing to feel for him. Not when she’s smart, open-minded open-m inded and a nd eloquent. eloq uent. Everything Everythin g he’s not. He didn’t didn’t know that, of course. cour se. All he knew kne w is she loves lov es him as much as he does. From From what I’ve seen, confirmation bias is worse than blindness.

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Chapter three: Change.

“ You can c an’’t change ch ange people. p eople. You You either ei ther accept ac cept them or leave.” le ave.” It was clear how she tried to change him anyway. Sometimes with books, other times with conversations. Maybe by taking him to Haj. When that failed, there are are material things like when she bought him a car. Kept trying to fill his mind but it stayed empty. Since that didn’t work, she was always looking for a way out. Even being called, god forbid, divorced. Not that her father would accept such a thing. It is unspeakable to go back and live with him. And no, we don don’’t have government welfare programs for that in our socialist system.. But most of all, he still hasn’t system hasn’t done anything wrong. All his flaws are not things he can do anything about. It would have been easier if he mistreated her. Maybe she’ll have a reason to say it to him, saying “I want a divorce.” d ivorce.” Now Now,, it it’’s never neve r even eve n hinting that she doesn’ doesn’tt want him. It was Pity Pity,, not love, that kept their relationsh relationship. ip. But pitying someone is the cruelest thing you’ll ever do. Because Becau se my grandfather grand father left lef t the country count ry,, he wasn’t wasn’t affected by the time t ime when Iraq went through an economic Sanctions against it. We We were rich from anything sent to us by him. At least more than most people around us. You will not die of hunger if you are willing to work hard enough and save the crumbs of bread and eating fright dough with 11


sugar for sweet. Neverth Nevertheless, eless, it was not rare for anyone anyone to die from the lack of medicine and everyone ever yone knew someone who had a child that didn’t make it for that reason. It’s past breakfast time, and I just woke up hot and sweaty under the sheets over the loud sound of a conversation in the kitchen and the radio with “Studio 10” is on. Te late morning light filling the house since all the curtains are off. I’m washing my face then strolling to the kitchen while still listening to my mother talking, “it is Saddam government’s doing. If people do not fight, they’ they’llll be executed or have their ears cut off. We don’t WAN war! We just finished one. Now, Now, after the Kuwait war war,, the world issued those Sanctions that won’t hurt the ruling class and their lavish parties, in another word, those responsible for f or the war, but the average aver age people peop le who lost their children c hildren because bec ause of them. the m. No one cares about that th at though”. I believe the conversation is directed to my father who looked confused but pretending that he doesn’t care enough to answer. “If it lasted for those before them, it wouldn’ wouldn’tt have gotten to them,” Khalid said, “No matter how ho w many times we say “God preserve preser ve him” after every mention of his name at school.” “He’s here for more than twenty years,” My father said, “So it must be working.” 12


“He won won’t’t stay for much longer,” My mother replied as if she said the words with enough anger, or simply making it as loud as possible, it can somehow come true. Ten continued “God will not let him.” It is one of many conversations she had while my father just nods and say nothing. nothing. It was a very memorable day to Khalid Khalid because my mother was astonished by his replies. Repeating it to us many times with little to no variation was not a problem to him. Ten starting a political debate with her, that begins with, “Guess what my teacher said the other day,” was like a Friday morning ritual. He, like my father, are both working so hard to win an affection she couldn’t give them. Every time she lay her eyes on them, It reminded her that her fate is sealed. aking  aking us with her while traveling is a yearly tradition. o o Jorden, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia. Only this time, she left the Kurdish babysitter “Ronak” with us and went with just my father. It was a very ver y short visit since she came c ame back after one week. Mahmood is crying so hard, seeing her for the first time in a while. Maybe remembered how much he misses her he r. Can Can’t’t blame him since I’m I ’m feeling the same way, only I wasn’t someone to easily cry. elling her how much Khalid was bullying me for no reason. Slowed down noticing the blank bl ank stare I’ve never n ever seen before. b efore. Why isn isn’t’t she with us, u s, I wonder. 13


She is in shock, I later learned, because her father kicked her out of his house for wasting money traveling. I believe the real reason is he did not want anyone. Maybe didn’t want to feel the guilt of seeing her with my father father,, or perhaps once a year is not long enough for him to miss her her.. Tat year, year, she had both Diabetes and blood pressure pressure.. Started to take pills, when she used to hate them. Quickl Quicklyy moved to needles need les and began to inject her arm ar m every ever y day with insulin. How funny to her, the topic of how she feels pain p ain touching any part of both of her arms. Everything painful to her h er is an opportunity oppor tunity to make m ake a joke out of it. it . Although Although,, she can fool herself awake but not asleep. Depression has taken its toll on her. As we were once sitting in the living room, just talking and kidding around, we turn to her with tears in her eyes and heavy breathing while trying so hard to smothers any sound of weeping. Te more we pressured her to tell us, the more she forced a smile saying she’s just kidding. My father didn’t do anything to hurt her, but he doesn’t have to. Just his presence would be enough for that. “Mom,” Khalid said with a concern yet serious voice, “Why do you hate him?”. him?”. “I don don’t’t hate him,” my mother replied, stopped for few seconds then continued “I hate the day I met him.” 14


Chapter four: Demons

I’m sorry I don’t have a full story. Tat’s not how memory works. It’s even more so when you’re a kid. All I have left is little snippets spread in my mind like light particles that flow from time to time into a rational narrative. And sometimes not even that, but it feels like a distant dream that only feels as if it happens. Like the time she is waking up at night screaming screaming that someone someone is pinching pinching her arms. My father turns the light right away, and everyone gathers around to calm her down. It won’t won’t take more than few minutes minut es before she sh e gets back to sleep. Other times, time s, someone in the room wanting to hurt hu rt her. Wh What at’’s strange is she remembers it the next day and believe it happen. We thought it to be true since the existence of Jinn is present in our culture. Looking at it now, I think she’s started to lose her grasp on reality. No matter what we we did to stop this from from happening, happening, it didn’ didn’t matter. matter. Not making making her sleep while the light is on, and not slaying a chicken inside the house, as superstition applies we should do. But it was decided that It’s a haunted house. Didn’t help the fact that my bed is in her room, so this carried on to my phobia from the dark, which was triggered by the similar nightmares I started to have. Te worst part is, I wasn’t old enough to know the difference between dreams and reality. Maybe it doesn’t matter anyway since I realized now that nightmares are much more pleasant since you’ll always wake up from them. 15


Even though she is a very ver y logical person when it comes to arguments, it didn’t stop her from believing in the unseen as all Muslims do. I remember her saying once about me, “He has a strong instinct. When he was a baby, baby, he rarely rarel y cries unless something s omething bad b ad is about to happen. happen . Like the time the rocket was about to hit close to us”. I believe this is called pigeon superstition. When two things are occurring so, they think the first is because of the second one even though both of them are unrelated. When they give a pigeon food while it’s flapping its wings, it will believe that’s that’s why it got it. Tat’s why she took me seriously seriously when I said, said, “I was was hearing hearing knocking knocking voices in the bathroom.”. I told Khalid, “But every time time I get down the bed and try tr y going there to see who’s who’s doing that; my mother tells me to get back, it’s your father.” She is starting to pay attention to me while I’m telling the t he story stor y, “It didn did n’t sound like l ike that. It was three knocks knoc ks as if they were calling cal ling for someone. som eone. Wh When en I got back to bed, a woman with a sinister laugh started to shake me”. Ten I uncovered my back and asked him to see if she left lef t any marks. Before long, she started to talk about moving into another house, believing this one may have an evil presence. She was right; there was the worst kind of demons in the house, the type that is impossible to banish for they of bad memories and trauma. When you embody e mbody them into demonic shapes, they become less scary since you don’t have to realize that, in reality, they are not only inside you, they are you. 16


Chapter five: After five: After the war. war.

“Donkey!” “Hush! Never say that about him. He’s your father.” “I hate him.” “ We still have to respect those we hate.”

I once saw my siblings around me screaming “He smells like cake!” because my father bought me dates biscuit. A respected actor is standing in Baghdad’s streets selling toys on a wooden table. Young students to gray-haired elders, sitting at a corner of every street hoping that someone would call them up for some work. Te twenty-five dinar my father takes to the market, now given to me to buy chewing gum. Not unusual to see trays of food sent in the hands of kids to any house that thought they might not have enough. One time my sister met her friend that way, switching food trays in the middle of the road. With what the economy is turning into, a “good “good job” has become “Any “Any job.” job.” But my father f ather had two. A government governm ent employee emp loyee as a truck tru ck driver dr iver.. And a taxi driver when he’s not on his shifts. Using the car my mother bought for him with my grandfather’s money. It managed to sustain us just above the water, while people are drowning in poverty. Te problem with that is everyone knows what he does for a living, when he’s working and when he’s not. You just have to check the truck near 17


the house. If it’s gone, that means so is he for at least a week. Te stove is burning in the middle of the room like it always does in these cold, windy nights. We’re watching the midnight movie on one of the only two channels we have In the country. My father is at work and won’t be back for days, Khalid and Zena retired earlier since they have school in the morning, Mahmood is sitting next to my mother, and I was pretending to be asleep under my blanket, with with a big enough hole to watch w atch it with them. t hem. Since it i t was a horror movie, mo vie, I wasn’t wasn’t allowed to do so. But my brother b rother is too to o young to understan understandd what’ what ’s he’s seeing. And he’ll he’ ll fall asleep as leep on my mother’s mo ther’s lap soon enough anyway any way.. It might have been “A Nightmare on Elm Street,” though I’m not sure. Small wiggling in the picture followed by a sudden white noise indicating indicat ing a disconnected signal sign al from the antenna. My mother waited a bit, then started start ed messing around arou nd with its setting, settin g, followe followedd by a decision to go to the roof and check chec k the antenna. I jumped from the bed screaming, “Don’ “D on’tt go, Don’t go go!” !” “Why are you still awake?” “Please, “P lease, Don Don’t’t leave.” She turned on all the lights in the room so I won’t be afraid. Put a cardigan on her shoulders shou lders saying say ing “Go back to sleep; I won’t won’t take long.” long. ” Wee were watching a horror movie so being left alone isn’ W isn’t something I wanted. But I wasn’t afraid for myself. I just didn’t know how to 18


express that while watching while my mother is heading up the stairs. Our houses are cubic shaped. Unlike triangular western ones. I stood near the first staircase looking up to; while taking few seconds to open the three large locks of the heavy metal door to the rooftop. My mother took the first step out to the dark, cloudy starless night. Saw the wire been cleanly cut. She understood what it meant and headed back to the house pretending she didn’t while muttering words like “Khalid, what did you do this time.” Hoping Hoping to reach the door door,, realizing realizing she’s not alone. Each step felt like an eternity. Just a few more and quick closing of the door would give her enough time to call for help. Only one more, a hand held her mouth from behind. “Shhh, “S hhh, Don’ Don’t... t...”. ”. He didn’t finish the sentence as she interrupted him with a bite on his hand followed by a hit with her elbow that pushed him few fe w steps back. Ran to the door to close it, but he hit it with all his power making a sound alerted everyone in the house. Pushing her down the stairs, falling on the glass window. But she hasn’t been injured thanks to the red, thick curtains. Went running to the kitchen to find any weapon while he’s he’s chasing her and and slipping on the glass from from the window and and falling down the rest of the staircase. We all started to scream “Tieve, “Tie ve, Tieve!”, Tieve!”, He stood up with the blood oozing from his head and down his ear, and his neck. For one second we all saw him. Looking in his thirties, 19


skinny,, confused and afraid skinny afrai d as his disguise di sguise using u sing a “Keffiyeh,” “Keffiyeh, ” an Arabian headwear, has fallen. My mother brought a knife, but he quickly ran up the rooftop before she was able to see him. She went after him so that she closes the door after him. She went back screaming, “Everyone, come here, she took a pill with a glass of water, and we all sit there. Afraid, praying pr aying nothing would happen to her her.. Like most houses, hous es, we didn’t didn’t have a phone to call c all the police. po lice. And my mother mothe r wasn’’t in any condition wasn condition to go anywhere anywhere.. A few minutes later, a knock on the outside door with a familiar voice, “Um, Khalid! It It’’s me”, “Come back inside” My mother yelled on Khalid who went to the door so she wouldn’t have to. “It’’s me, Abu Sanaa” We instantl “It instantlyy recogniz recognized ed him. Tey Tey’r ’ree the Kurds living right next to us, “I have the police with me, please open the door.” It was just an officer with a thick mustache and Abu Sanaa. Asked about my father first, then you can see the shock on their face when we’ree taking him through the we’r the house. Te expression started started to change into admiration while we were telling them what happened. “ We caugh caughtt him,” Abu Sanaa said, “He was tr trying ying to cross over our house,” “it’’s true, “it true,”” said the officer, “ We took him in, though we still need 20


you to identify him.” Looked at us, then continued “Y “You ou don’ don’t have to do this now, you, and your children can rest, you can honor us with your visit at at any time tomorrow tomorrow.” .” “No! It It’’s ok”, I don don’’t know why my mother said that. As if she didn’t have enough this night, “I’ll come with you.” “Mom!” “Mo m!” Sai Saidd Khal Khalid. id. “ ake care of o f your brothers. brothe rs. I’m leaving Ronaq with you. Be good to her”. “Ok, I’ll go and call her,” Said Abu Sanaa, Ronaq is his younger daughter. Te first one, Sanaa, is married. Tey had several men in front front of my mother in in the lineup, lineup, “Which one is he,” asked the officer. “It was too dark,” she said, “covering his head with a Keffiyeh, “How will you identify him?” “I know he smells like Insect repellent.” “Go and smell them,” Said the officer to another cop in the room. He looked surprised and not sure; it it ’s even harder to hide a smile while the officer couldn’t stop himself from doing so “Yes, go… and sme smellll them them!”. !”. He got closer, sniffing them one by one. Ten got back saying “Tey all smell the same.” Te officer looked at my mother mother.. “You “Y ou do know what Insect repelle repellent nt smells like.” She said, but the 21


cop didn did n’t respond, respond, “I bit the th e thief ’s hand very ver y hard. Te bite marks m arks must still be there”. “Go and check their hands,” Te officer said to the cop. He checked chec ked them one by one. Wh When en he got to t o the guy, guy, He had to drag dr ag the hand out while the thieve trying to hide it behind him. It wasn’t just a bite mark. mark. His hand was still bleeding, along with his his head. “With what you did to him,” said the officer, “I think he’ll think twice before breaking into someone’s someone’s home.” Wee stayed up all night waiting for her to get back. As soon as we heard W the door, we all started hugging her and asking her to tell us what happens. “I think you stayed up long enough, enough,”” she said with a quiet, soothing voice, “It “It’’s nearly morning, Khalid and Zena have have school tomorrow tomorrow.” .” his name was Sattar Sat tar,, the same as my father’s fat her’s name. Ten we found f ound out o ut he’s a relative to a family living in front of us. Tis happening sealed it. We have to move from this house, my mother thought. Days later, my father got back with an accident of his own. He was driving down the high way at night when a red Volkswagen car driven by a drunk old man hit the side of my father’s truck. Te small distance he took before bef ore stopping stoppin g painted the tired t ired red. But the driver dr iver was ok. A Highway Patrol officer saw the whole event. But the old man insisted 22


on calling the police. He went walking to his house as it turns out to be not very far. Asking the patrol officer not to let my father leave. Half an hour later, my father saw a group of at least 20 men coming with bats and small small weapons. It It’’s clear they are a member of his tribe. Te officer told my father, father, “Go, I saw what happen. hap pen. If you stayed here, h ere, you might get g et killed.” kille d.” “And you, you,”” Sai Saidd my fath father. er. “ Tey wouldn’ wouldn’tt dare.” After arriving at his department, my father had many warnings before about him replacing and selling sel ling part of the truck. Tis incident was the straw the broke the camel’s back. His options are as follow, He’dd mortgage his house He’ hou se to the government. governme nt. Anything happens happe ns to the truck; they take the house. He or someone he knows should deposit 10 million dinars in the bank as insurance. He’s fired. Well, W ell, he was fired.

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Chapter six: Every six: Every day is a new day and a new life.

“I dance to forget forget.. Te more I sweat, the cle clearer arer my head gets”. “Your head must be so clear, then.” “Not at all, why do you think I keep dancing.” I am riding my tricycle tric ycle so fast under the grape vines in our front yard, raising my foot as I reach a higher speed, excited for my first day at school tomorrow. While Khalid is pushing my sister, Zena on a swing made of a thick rope and a pillow. He kept saying, “You’ll hate it soon enough.” It is a long dirt road to get there. Zena came with my father and me as she was going to the t he same school. sch ool. I am walking faster fas ter than they are, stepping on my father’s shadow and laughing with the cold morning air hitting my face. While he is saying in a grumpy voice, “Don’t!” After dropping me to the class, everyone is already there, so I sat in the first seat while the teacher is speaking and I am curiously checking everything every thing in the room. Noticed everyone is whispering while talking to each other. As I am turning to the kid next to me asking him about that, I got the answer as a slap in the face by the teacher. I started crying and screaming because no one treated me like this. Her Her way of calming me down was threatening to hit me a second time If I don’t stop crying. 24


“ Vil Villainess, lainess,”” I screamed at her! I don don’t’t know why that word came to my mind. Probably Probably because of all the cartoon c artoon I used to watch. Which made her slap me for a second time. I got out of class to ran outside the school but bu t was held and taken to the principal’s pri ncipal’s office. She brought brough t me water. I drank a bit and kept crying. Ten they called my sister, “Azzo Azzoz, z, this is normal, normal,”” My sister said to me, “ Tis is what what’’s school is.” “You “Y ou were right, right,”” I replied, ”I do hate it.” “Tat’’s ok; it’s just a few hours then we’ “Tat we’llll go home.” “No, no! I will not go back in there” I started to cr cryy when she calmed me down saying, “Don’tt worr “Don’ worryy, stay here until my father comes back.” I don’t understand. All the teachers, even the one that hit me seemed so lovely in that room. Giving me cake, speaking and laughing with me. It’s like she’s not the same person tormenting me an hour ago. Where I live, School is where the students are beaten, insulted and degraded by teachers. It might be the reason why most Arabs have an extreme reaction to any reading material. It is the same day; we are eating dinner in the dark in a large rounded tray on the floor, with few dishes inside it. Sitting around it as the custom in Iraq with people rarely eat on a table. A lantern is shining a wiggling yellow soft light in the middle, contrasting our discontent faces from eating the same meal every ever y day. day. Khalid said, 25


“Next to my school, a mob went to the Department of Energy with clubs and bats and forced them to turn the power on.” It is a made-up story, but we didn’t mind letting him continue, especially there is no V for today because the power is off even more than usual. While we are eating eating pomegranate as as a dessert, my mother said, said, “ Why don’t we sell the house and buy a small farm. Te economy has gotten so bad that no career can sustain us any longer.” She looked to my father who is shaking his head in disapproval, “Why not? Working as a taxi driver can hardly get us through the month. Tings are getting worse by the day day.. If we have a farm, even when we are not selling anything from it, we will not starve while we can plant it. We can survive on dates and bread.” Te idea was not that crazy craz y since my father is initially a farmer farmer.. Not to mention that farming, is the primary profession in our city. Soon enough, we found one, but when the owner noticed how much we want it, he started to increase the price. As he did that, my mom started selling everything she can get he hands on. As big as the car, the furniture, and the house and small as my blue electric watch she got me from her last trip. She bought the two thousand sq. m. Farm for 14 million dinars (5,600$) at the time, with some help from my grandfather. You Y ou can’ can’t miss it. Just follow the river from Baquba through the main street, then its stream on the left next to a gas station. About twenty26


minute walk, through a dirt road that can barely fit one car, the river on your left, the the palm trees on both sides and small doors on the right r ight for other farms that have clay, and occasionally, brick walls. It’’s the last ride in this car It c ar as the deal was we would use it to bring all the stuff to our new home before giving it to them. It will be a long walk for us later on. on. I love our new house “Albistan” as we grew to call it. It is huge with enough space to do whatever I want. Stopped for few minutes after entering the gate, as we are admiring it, my mother said to me, “Race you to the house.” I won, of course, even that I never ran that far in my life at once, as we never play in the street. Entering the door to the farm with the thick trees and random palm trees makes it impossible to see beyond few fe w meters. Except for a pathway that leads to the other side where another metal door leads to the creek that every farm owner uses it to water their plants. A piece of heaven with a clear c lear air that has a little bit of moisture and the smell of trees. Perfect and blue sky, It sure outmatches the gray one we have in the city. But it looks like it requires many repairs. Not to mention the animal’s smell wasn’t easy to ignore. However, it it’’s a trade I’m willing willin g to take for f or all the trees t rees I can climb and the countless places to hide. Te first honored guest was a snake snake I discovered in the animal’ animal’ss house. house. 27


It was dark so I thought it to be an empty plastic Flour bag. But when It moved, mo ved, I knew what it was. Went Went out ou t screaming screami ng “A “A snake! A snake”. snake ”. My father tried to kill it with not much luck. Te neighbors started laughing at us, city people. p eople. elling me, “Snake “Snakess are vengefu vengefull creatures, creatu res, they remember rememb er you if you hurt them, and get back at you when you least expect them.” them. ” I turned to my mother and was wonderin wonderingg if it’s true. “I don’t know,” she said, laughing and sharing the joke at my expense. I knew I’m going to hate this place as much as I’ll I’ ll love it. It’s It’s not going to be easy, but as a start, I’m never sleeping on the floor ever again. And I was right. A few days later my mother found another smaller one curled up under her bed, seeking warmth. Probably thinking she’s our roommate. My grandfather took a particular interest in it. Tat is why he sent my mother a lot of money to make everything at its best. Even buying them a new, cheaper car to make it easier to bring the construction materials. We planted new trees, flower bushes on both sides of the walkway,, as my mother promised them, they’l walkway they ’lll be walking on roses when they visit. visit. Brought new soil soil and even turned the animal’ animal’ss rooms into another anothe r house. So there were we re two houses on one farm. My mother made detailed drawings and sent them with each message. He replies with whatever adjustments are needed. While the construction workers are losing their minds because of the non-conventional instructions 28


are asked of them. Like every door needs to have an ark above it, this ark would be a glass window with the wooden door under them. My mother’s depression is still there though. Sometimes you’d think it seized to be with the new found passion. Helps my father on the farm, paint the walls or do all kinds of heavy lifting. Other times just sit in her room for hours. When she feels better, she sometimes dance at every sunset with the songs on V, then go praying and reading the Quran. Q uran. Like she’s she’s drowning and always trying tr ying to hang on to some straw. And we’re still there to do anything to help her push that rock up the mountain. I even agreed to go to a new school. She convinced me by saying, “You alrea already dy read and wri write te whil whilee othe other’s r’s can’ can’t. t. You know math math,, and they don’t. No teacher would have a reason to hit you if you just behave yourself ”. My brother laughed saying, “Exactly! And you don’t need your rights unless you get arrested”. “Shut “S hut up Khal Khalid!” id!”,, My moth mother er said said,, “Do “Don n’t mind him. You’re smarter than him. Don’t waste it”. Well, W ell, I’m smart enough to realize he’ he’ss right. Not there is anything I can do about it. Just twelve years of school then I’ll go to college. No one would dare to abuse me then. It wasn’t wasn’t easy for Khalid Kh alid as well. well . Te students stude nts and even eve n some kids his hi s age in the neighborhood were bullying him all the time. o them, Khalid 29


was the closest thing to “Te rich kid” they can have some revenge on him. Since the others have a family member in the government, so no one dared to touch them. Khalid wasn’t subtle in his way of dressing or even talking. And always had a lot of money to spend, that got it by non-conventional means. Wouldn’t think twice about insulting anyone if felt like it. It’s the reason why no one cared to be his friend. My mother was always al ways harsh on him than tha n any of us. Tough she never ne ver hit me, him, was another topic. She once beat him up so badly bad ly his nose no se started to bleed, in which he said “I’m bleeding you whore,” which made her beat him even harder until my father came and saved him from her he r. Ten said sai d to me, “Zenah failed at math too, and she sh e didn did n’t do anything about it.” I believe It was a sincere question and not blaming her. Wondering, why him? What did he do so wrong that got her to hate him like this?

30


Chapter seven: Te visit.

It’s a year later and my grandfather who’s also named Khalid came to visit us with other plans to rebuild it as his new house in Iraq. It was kind of him. As kind as a guy who says something like, “If one of his two daughters got divorced, they should have a place to stay.” My mother promised him a flowered walkway, but he’ll have to settle with one made of dates dates because It is the harvest harvest season. Walking with my grandmother carrying many bags filled with gifts that made up of mostly clothes. With my grandmother strolling with him as she’s nowhere as healthy he althy.. His two daughters dau ghters came c ame to see se e him as well. wel l. Maison the older and her two sons. Zainab and her seven daughters and one son. Te house never seemed so full as 18 people are staying there. You Y ou think he’ he’ss the coolest coolest person when you you see him. him. An old man with a massive body and shaved head walking with ten grandchildren that Always follow him everywhere while supervising the construction workers. Wearing a “Dishdasha,” a long robe with with short sleeves. “Tank god, for he fed us, gave us enough to live, sheltered us. No one can give g ive enough nor shelter us as he did. ”A prayer we always recited after him when we eat. After we finished, He asked me about which surah in the Quran I memorized. aught me to pray pray,, even came to my school once. Tinking my mother was just saying good things about me because I’m her son. While expecting some lazy kid with 31


bad grades, it was surprising to him because all the teachers loved me. Tey might have exaggerated as they never seen a foreigner before. From that day forward, the school always looked at me as the rich kid. Because of the way that he was wearing his Saudi Arabian formal dress. My oldest aunt, Maisoon isn’t her real name. It was Buthaina; they named her after af ter her older sister who died while she was two years old. But later on, they decided it was “Bad luck” to call her that. I don’t know why my grandfather used to like her the least. She reminded him of his first daughter. Te one he still feels responsible for her death. Maybe falling short of all the hopes he had for her since she’s the only one to marry someone she wanted, instead of him forcing it on her. Used to always conspire against him, Saying this will be the time she’ll confront him. By how he treats her mother or her. Maybe that’s why she married the first person to ask her hand. Yes, he was abusive, but all fathers are in this culture. Hitting your kids is a form of love they exercise to teach them. Te main point she wanted to talk to him about was why he left them, and now they’re trapped here in this dying country. Every time she opens the conversation with him, he changes it. And she won’t have the power to persist. “Baba,” she said, “Why didn’t you take us with you back then? You Y ou could have easily done so”, so”, “I told you many times. I didn’t have the money for it”. 32


“But you did!” She said to him, raising her voice so this time, he’s unable to change the subject, “My mother gave you all her savings, all her gold for this exact reason.” “You “Y ou accusing me, after all, I’m doing for you, all of you?”, Tat night I saw him with a red face f ace and eyes and a large la rge vein on his forehead. fo rehead. Screaming and trying to reach for her, as the grown woman with two boys. But my father and a nd her husband h usband are restraining him. “ You want to talk about money? Let’s talk about what I’ve sent to your sisters, and you took for yourself.” yourself.” Everyone was shocked, he’ he’ss not just calling her a thief, he’s turning everyone against her. He used to send her money so she would give a salary to her sisters. He learned that she was taking some for herself. We (the kids), were all hiding in the backyard watching from behind the window. He calmed down after a few minutes, then said to my mother, “You, you would be the one to give them the salary from now on. I would trust you with it. Not Zainab, not Maisoon”. “No,” My mother said, I belie believe ve it it’’s becau because se she wanted to stand with her sister. sister. Or perhaps it’s her way of demanding demanding his respect. “What?” “I’m too sick to travel, travel,”” Said my mother, with a less firm voice than before, tr trying ying to make excuses” I can’t can’t go to Basra every month.” month. ” Of course, it it’’s not safe to send money m oney in the mail. And And the government gover nment is watching everything, which is why the most reliable way is to give 33


it personally to them. “If you were born as males, you’d be the ones providing for me. But I still thank Allah anyway. anyway. Even if you’re you’re married, I’m still not done taking care of you.” “You “Y ou wouldn’ wouldn’tt have to if you just took us with you.” Maison quickly stood up and pointed at him while talking to my mother “Why do you think he sends anything? It’s to have an excuse when he finally stands in front of Allah.” Allah.” It was at that moment; he rose, broad shoulders and taller than my aunt. She backed away for one step while just about to turn when he started hitting her on her back with both hands. Te day ended with her deciding to leave. It was clear; they’ they’llll no longer be together under the same roof. And my mother agreed to be the one responsible for the money. Maybe it was her husband who took some of the money, and she couldn’t bring it back. Or perhaps miscalculation that wasn’t able to resolve. Anything that would have been understandable if it wasn’t for my grandfather’s rage. Tings have changed after that. It wasn’t fun like before since we started to avoid him out of fear f ear.. My grandmother wasn’t as busy or eventful as he was. It is why we spent most of our time with her. her. She just likes to walk in the gardens telling stories to my older brother Khalid. In almost all of those tales, we notice how peaceful and loving she is. One story involved her not 34


eating dinner for days because she used to wait for him to get back from work, then she would be too shy to dine with him. Other story involved her telling my grandfather she lost her earrings, when in fact she sold them because the shopping money wasn’t enough. “ Why didn didn’’t you just tell him you sold them?” “I’m afraid he might think it it’’s a way for me to ask for more money money.” .” Hard to believe, but talk to her for few minutes, and all these stories would make perfect sense.

She grew very fond of Khalid and his

school’s tales that he used to make up so she would smile. My mother told him to do that. Not that she needed to since he craved for an audience. audienc e. rust me; You You would regret laughing laughi ng at one of his jokes. It would help her sickness though. She had high blood pressure and diabetes like my mother. Tat and hemiplegia. She wouldn’t ask for a glass of water from anyone. Instead, she would struggle to get up and get it herself. I remember now that once, my grandfather asked her to get up and get him one, too. It was so unconsidered of him since she can hardly walk. And we would’ve been glad to do it for him. My grandfather went back to Saudi Arabia after a month he spent befriending the whole town. He promised them to build a second mosque in the village the next time he will visit.

35


Chapter eight: A eight: A train to Basra Basra

“I hate him!” “It’’s forbi “It forbidding dding to say one letter to offend your father, how about a five letter word?” It is 8 hours’ drive to Basra. But my mother and I decided to go by train since It’s the safest. My father used to be the one to deliver the money, the past three years. But he’s too busy this time since It’s the harvest season. It’s a big deal because this is the first time she travels on her own. Wee arrived at noon to the station, bought the tickets and set waiting W for the train. Using the bags as a cushion to rest our backs on. And four large apple bags, we picked from the farm as a gift. Didn’t carry heavy luggage because we didn’t want to attract any attention. Staid under the sunshades on a hot summer day where the floor is radiating the heat back up to the sky. Not a single cloud, but the atmosphere is far from clear. My mother brought food, but it is now cold, and water, which is now hot. hot.

36


“If you’r you’ree hungr hungryy, I can buy you a sandwich from that carri carriage,” age,” My mother said, “Ew,, they make it with their ‘hand “Ew ‘hands,’” s,’” I said in disgust. “How else will they make it?” said laughing, “Suc “Such h an owl!”. “ Tat Tat’’s not what I meant,” Yeah, I came up as a total douch douche, e, I thought. “If you’r you’ree not prepared to eat anything, then you’r you’ree not hungr hungryy.” People are slowly filling the sunshades while arriving at the station. Ten a train comes, and it’s empty again. My mother went to the ticket seller and asked, “ When does the train to Basra arrives? It It’’s way past its time”. Te ticket seller looked looked at us with a “Do they don’ don’t know what they’re they’re doing?” look. “It’’s already gone!”, looked at me, then to her and said: “ Whe “It Where re were you?”. you?”. “It said it arrives at 4 PM; no train arrived at that time”, “Tat’’s because you’ “Tat you’re re waiting at the wrong gate!”, Said the ticket seller, “It even arrived an hour early today.” “ We can’ can’tt go back,” Said my mother, “ We came from Diyala, not Baghdad,” 37


“Is this your first time?” He said concerne concerned, d, but my mother didn’t reply. “ Never mind, it’s ok, Wait here,” Yes, Y es, It It’’s her first time, so don don’’t judge. But this is not an acceptable excuse since we’re not worrying about the apple bags. It’s It’s the amount of money, dollars, nevertheless, my mother is carrying in her purse. I’m not sure how much but it’s three months’ salary for two families, with some extra for Zainab since she sent us a letter highlighting a circumstance they had. So you can imagine, it’s quite a lot. “Te next one will arrive at night,” the ticket seller came back saying, “But it’s fully booked. Te one afterward will arrive at dawn. You Y ou either wait, I can replace your tickets, but as you’ you’re re only two people, there is another way. I can find you a family which you can travel with at the same cabin”. So it’ it ’s going with a family fam ily we don’t don’t know or waiting alone al one at the station, station , the whole night long. “Can you excuse us for a second?” My mother said, moved a bit farther and got a bottle of water out for me, and another for herself. “ What are we going to do?” I asked, “Let “L et’’s see what fate has in stored for us,” My mother replied, trying to comfort me, “It is unlikely to find a family who is willing to share their cabin, which means it’s a sign to wait until dawn.” 38


“Or a sign to get back home,” “No, there is another sign for that,” said laughing, Te ticket seller called for us from afar afar,, gesturing for us to come to him. While standing next to a family of four, an old man, old woman, their son and a daughter with down syndrome. As we’re walking closer to them, they appeared as they’re from the south. Not only poor but from the remote countryside. My mother whispered, “ What do you think?”, “ Tey look harmles harmless,” s,” looking at their daughter. Not long after, the train started to whistle, and it started rumbling as it’s decades old models. “We have the oldest and slowest trains in the world; it’s faster to go running,” joked the old man. “But, my daughter (Referring to my mother), I love it. It makes it easier to enjoy the beauty of our lands. Tis nighttime, nighttim e, the sound of o f the train, this is my favorite part p art of traveling”. Of course, it it’’s hard to enjoy “Te beauty beau ty of our lands” lan ds” when his daughter daught er (Real daughter), won’t stop farting in this small cabin. Not sure if I’m tired or the toxic is reaching my m y brain. It seems like it’ it ’s natural to them since they aren’t noticing. 39


“Mom,” I said leaning closer to her while the whole place is has gotten smaller with all the luggage that it it’’s hard to move, move, “I need to go to the bathroom.” “Yes! “Y es! Of course, you do!”, Said my mother, with an optimist optimistic ic voice. We We squashed ourselves out, and my mother continued “What “ What took you so long? I was trying to gesture for you, but you weren’t even looking at me”. “I was trying not to pass out,” ook  ook me to the end of the carriage opened the doors doors and yes! Finally, Finally, fresh air! I first made an exhale trying to let out all the toxic air from my lungs before making a big emit. “It smells nice!” I said, “Any smell would be an improveme improvement,” nt,” said to me while try trying ing not to laugh. But we both did since we couldn’t hold it. “But I do love this smell,” She said with a nostalgic voice, “It’s called Cedar rice. Tese areas are are well known for planting it”. I remembered my brothers and thought, for the first time in years, I won’’t see them for few days. won “Khalid,, Zena, and Mahmood would have liked this place,” I said, “Khalid “I know know,, but they have your father,” She first meant it as “He’ “He’llll take care of them,” but then couldn’t help herself from laughing. 40


I laughed too, then said, “Yeah, I feel bad for them too. But you have to admit, if my father is here, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m pretty useless in comparison.” “Don’tt say that about yourself. Unlike all your siblings, you’r “Don’ you’ree nothing like your father. Which is why I took you with me”. Wee stayed there for few minutes, not talking but just enjoying the W scenery changing from wide empty fields to pine trees surrounding surrounding the train track. And their leaves are softly brushing the sides of the train. I think I understood what the old man was talking about. Tese lands aren’t’t dying. Tey still aren stil l hold a beauty b eauty that is hard to see when it it’’s much easier to notice the bad. I felt a chill with a sudden realization, “Mom! Did you bring your purse?”, “You “Y ou scared me!” She said with a censure voice, “Of course I have. You Y ou think your mother is stupid?”, “No, but we did miss the train,” I said mocking mockingly ly,, “Now we have to share a gas room,” “I wonder if it’s a bit suspicious that I’m keeping the purse with me at all times.” tim es.” Ten dismissed dismiss ed the idea ide a saying, “But I guess g uess leaving leav ing it is not an option. Let’s go back to the cabin”. “I’llll stay here for a while, I’ “I’ I’llll foll follow ow you,” I said, 41


“Ok, but just for a little while,” I stood there for about an hour. Leaning on the handrail, wondering why far away lights seems like they’re moving with us. While the closer ones away from us. Tought of asking my mother, but first, I’m going to the bathroom since I know I’m not going out for a bit. Didn’t feel like doing anything since it was too filthy, good thing I have some Kleenex tissues in my pocket. Spread them on the seat. But no, the train is moving, better hold it until we arrive. Got out and everyone in the carriage was out from their cabin and looking my way! “What “W hat did I do?”, I thought. It turns out they came for me outside the carriage and since they haven’t found me, the most logical conclusion was I fall off the train, which is why everyone panicked. It was one of the most embarrassing memory in my life. Te train stopped because of some mechanical issue. We all opened the windows and the cabin doors for air. air. Te people next to us came and introduced themselves and said jokingly “We smelled the apples,” so my mother opened one of the bags and started giving everyone ever yone around her.. I don’t her don’t exactly exactl y remember remembe r what happened, hap pened, but one of the t he engineers engin eers had an accident, and we saw the wound is so deep, you can see the bone, and blood everywhere. He was close to our window, they asked 42


for anything to stop the bleeding, so my mother opened her purse and got everything out, and gather all the tissues she had and passed it to them from the window. Tey were all red in a matter of seconds. Te paramedics arrived and stopped the bleeding, people took him back to the train, lights are back on, and we started moving. My mother whispered in my ear ear,, “I think they saw the money.” Of course, I know it’s inside an envelope, maybe it’s our paranoia, or perhaps everyone is looking at us. We got more suspicious as those people started insisting that we should sleep. No way, I thought. Haven’t closed my eyes for a second and neither did my mother. It’s true that they seemed like good people, but they appeared poor as well. And who knows what the “Need” can force you to do. In a way, all Iraqis have fallen from the grace of freedom and pride, the honor and all the trades an Arab can be proud of, from the bountiful life they once lived, to the slavery under Saddam’s system. And those who refused were hanged in public squares, some still in their sleeping pajamas, and paraded as traitors. “ Why are the both of you going to Basra?”, Asked the mother. “Just visiting a family famil y member membe r.” Said my mother mothe r, “My sister sis ter,, I was born bo rn in Basra.” 43


“Really? Fr From om where exactly?” “Ashar Ashar,, they they’’ ll be meeting us at the station,” Said my mom, suggesting that we won’t be alone for long. “ Why didn’ didn’tt anyone come with you, daughte daughter?” r?” Said the old man, but my mother didn’t say a word. Just gave them a look of “You’re asking too many questions.” “Oh, I’m sorr sorryy,” said the mot mother, her, “ We didn’t mea mean n to intr intrude. ude. I just thought of inviting inviting you in, first. We have a relative relative in Sa`d sq. You can stay there with us, eat lunch together, then we’ll drive you where you want to Ashar”. “I was born there; my sister is much clos closer er.. So that won won’t’t be necessary” necessar y”,, said my m y mother mot her,, in a ‘hell ‘ hell no’ kind of o f way, way, then adding, ad ding, “Maybe you should come with us.” It was a mistake by my mother’s side. It’s clear that she panicked. Feeling surrounded by them makes it hard to breathe. “ What do you say?”, Said the old man to his wife. “I think it it’’s a great idea,” She replied, “ Ten you’r you’ree all welcome! welcome!”, ”, said my mother, unsure of what else to say. My mother has pushed herself into a corner. It was an easy slip up since she’s latterly sitting in a corner. Ten I remembered Khalid once 44


said he scared a teacher just by mentioning my mother’s uncle to him. Finally! All the stories he made up has come in handy for once. “Mom, will uncl unclee Razak be there?”, I said, It made her smile. Her eyes lit up that I thought she’ll she’ ll kiss me. “Yes, definitely!” she said, “He’s already there by now since he drives instead of going by train.” Looked at the father and continued, “He loves him so much! Gave him a dog, you see. Not to mention all the stories he tells him about baba Saddam”. All their expressions have changed. I can almost swear that even the daughter’s appearance has altered by hearing those words. “How so?”, Te mother asked. “He’s ver veryy high ranked in the Ba’ath Party Party,” ,” said my mom, “He is the Director of the Country Command.” Yeah, Y eah, I don’ don’t know what does that means either either.. In fact, we kept using using that terms because it sounded fancy. We’re not even sure what Razak does precisely prec isely.. Not only because bec ause he can c an’’t tell us, us , but everyone eve ryone with this kind of job, always moves from one rank to the next. Some are better than others. Tey haven haven’’t said anything to the end of the trip. Feels Feels like we’ we’re re the ones who pushed pu shed those people p eople into in to a corner this t his time. We got off from the train, said goodbye. After apologizing that they won’t be able to 45


come with us, we started walking to the exit while noticing the old man following us, “What does he want this time,” whispered my mother. Changed direction for a bit, just to make sure, but no, he comes after us. We exited and raised our hands to the first taxi we saw. Got our luggage in the car, and the old man started helping us do so. Went to my mother who set in the back seat. Looking at her from the window and said, “ ake care of yourself, daughter,” Looke Lookedd at her purse, then to her, “Te good times have ended, these are bad times for someone like you to travel alone, alone, take good care care of yourself, yourself, and your son.” Ten the taxi drove away from him.

46


Chapter nine: Basra

Wee got close to my aunt W aunt’’s house. It It’’s a town with with a lot of old churches and Christian families. Te streets are about four meters wide with dirt roads and a century-old architecture called “shana’sheel|, or “Mashrabiya” that consist of houses with no front yard, But a garden in the middle, midd le, and a wooden balcony that tha t gives the house its signature. sig nature. Some of these houses are over a hundred years old; it shows how the Jewish were master master builders. She didn’t call saying she’s on her way because we didn’t have phones back then as not many people did. We entered ente red their the ir alley all ey,, and a woman woman’’s voice said from from behind, “FREEZE!!, We are bandits”. Of course, no bandit would say such a thing, I think. So it’s a joke. My mother replied, “If you need something, I might be able to give it to you, you don’t need to “freeze me” for it,” We turned, and it was a tall, Christian woman with three boys. We just passed an old church that is now their home. “ What are you doing here?” asked the woman. “Oh, I’m just here to visit my sister “Zainab,” My mother replied with a light voice,” voice,” We’r e’ree from Diyala.” Diyala.” “It can’ can’tt be! You’re Omaima!! Zainab’ Zainab’ss house(Family house(Family)) told us all about you”. Tey sat and chatted for half an hour and my mother never complained 47


about how tired we were because of the sleep deprivation we had to endure on the train. Ten gave them one of the apple bags she brought with her, her, before walking us the the few meters to my aunt’s house. My aunt’ aunt ’s family were the unlucky souls for buying a house built to be sold as soon as it’s finished. Tough to their credit, the modern design made it hard to detect its real quality. But the decision was regretted with every sight of every crack in the walls. It was unusual in this country to have the walls and door so low you can see the inside. Teir way of fixing it was big ugly metal patches and atrocious Gypsum with some broken glass at the top of the brick br ick fence. Te neighbors call it, and I kid you not, “Te house of glass.” It must’ve been with some miraculous intervention to have such divine comedy since our culture isn’t familiar with the reference. It had the kind of repulsiveness that makes you look three times, First time you think, “God this is ugly,” the second, “Tose people are so freaking poor!”. And for the third time, you’ll think, “Tey must be trying too hard to hide something. Oh, the nauseating chemical smell of the lousy soap was like being punched in the nose as soon as we entered the house. And I thought this is just their smell only when they visit us. As soon as my nose is numb by the smell and my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I was in shock of how empty it is. No V, no furniture, Not even a clock! Te only way to know the time was to ask their father since he’s wearing 48


the only watch. watc h. Making due with w ith the few fe w mattresses they the y had. It turns out; the house has made people suspicious. Or maybe it was just the epidemic across the country. Since a week earlier while they were sleeping on the roof, some burglars came and wiped the house clean. Which bring us to the reason why why we’re we’re here here in the first place. place. Giving them enough money to help them stand back up on their feet. Tey were very friendly if you asked me. My uncle (Aunt’s husband) was a depressed alcoholic alcoholic who used to beat beat his wife from time to time and still be loved since he’s a good father when he’s not drinking if there is such a thing. I quickly understood why when every second of his time is spent singing and an d joking with his kids. How can a substance turn a man into the cruel monster that I’ve heard about? I thought. A family made up of seven members, My aunt, as hard to believe; she was as shy as her mother mother.. Her husband, four girls gir ls and one boy in the middle. He was the victim of being spoiled by his parents. My mother asked me to stay away from the youngest two because they have lice. Not that I listened since I’d utilize any chance at my disposal to play with someone my age. First, there was an equally hilarious and disgusting accident of a mouse jumping on the lunch tray tray,, to the grave, then outside the room while we were eating, rendering us all “Not hungry hungry.” .” My cousin swore this had never happened before, too bad too since my mother helped them cook with her legendary talent. Ten I was busy trying to find every 49


way to climb to the roof. It made it a long, eventful, and enjoyable day. I am now ready to sleep on the roof instead of inside the house to avoid the power outage in the unusually hot weather of this city. Te next day we headed to our next destination, the house of my second aunt, Maisoon. My aunt Zainab decided to come along with her only son, Ahmad and two of his sisters. Tis time the welcoming was entirely different because they were expecting just two people. Not that they weren’t welcoming, far from it. But everyone hates Ahmad as as he has a unique unique talent to ruin anything. Te shortest way to describe him is he looks like a human version of the devil at the end of “Panic! At the Disco Emperor’s New Clothes” music video. With one of his front teeth broken, giving it a sharper look, and his lower teeth has black spots on them. Te reason he’s hated is the entitled attitude he’s been molded into because he’s the only male born in the family. He’s going rapidly out of control the older he gets. Something unconsciously encouraged by his mother since she thought it to be a way for God to punish her husband for all of his misconduct. I’m sure that will never backfire in any way. way. Didn Didn’t’t mind that, and thought thou ght of o f him as a friend. f riend. Even as he’s five years older than I am. Maisoon has two kids. Something my Aunt Zainab should have tried. Te oldest name was Khalid, Another desperate attempt to please 50


my grandfather. And his younger, more playful brother, Rahman. Everything is expansive in the house. It made it harder for us to do anything to enjoy the day. Other than playing Super Mario for few minutes, then interrupted interrup ted by the adults adu lts wanting to watch V. V. Becau Because se of that, I asked my mother if I could get back with my aunt Zainab and spend the rest of my time with them instead. Tere is a first time for everything, ever ything, and this was the first decision I regret. I woke up with the early morning sunlight that I’ve been successful of avoiding with merely covering my eyes. Ten the flies started to wake up singling singlin g that here, no one sleeps slee ps past 8 AM. Eating an Egg sandwich sand wich and drinking a cup of tea-milk, which was more tea than milk for economic reasons. Followed by a 9 AM morning cartoon that never took place as I used to because they no longer have a V. I intended to make the best of my last day in Basra, so I asked Ahmed to take me to see Shatt S hatt al-Arab. He asked his father and he h e was glad to take t ake us. A wide river river,, formed by by the combination of the the two two rivers, rivers, igris and the Euphrates. One side consists of thousands of palm trees, fishermen, and swimming kids. k ids. Te other side with w ith hundreds of statues s tatues Each one had a name of o f a martyr mar tyr from f rom the Iraq/Iran war w ar.. All pointing poin ting at Iran, so we would never forget who’ who’s the enemy, enemy, jihad explained. Tey’’re all gone now Tey now,, our current government and its allegiance to Iran wouldn’’t allow such a thing. wouldn thing. Wee ended our tour with the last statue, Badr Shakir al-Sayyab W al-Sayyab.. Te 51


most influential modern Arab poets of all time. Jihad stood in front f ront of him and started reading the engraved poem. “Te sun is more beautiful in my homeland. even the dark is beautiful there. It embraces Iraq…” I looked at jihad, j ihad, still reading the poem, he really is a good man. m an. W hat left of him, anyway. Passionate, emotional and melancholic. What happens to him, I wondered, that pushed him this far? I look at him and there is no clear white in his eyes. Like he spent the last decade mourning a life he never ne ver had.

52


Chapter ten: Lost

My mother is supposed to come and gets me this afternoon before we finally get back to Diyala. So I decided to to spend time time with Ahmed until then. “ Who’s the whitey?”, asked one of Ahmed Ahmed’’s friend friends, s, referri referring ng to me. Tey weren’t used to see someone this pale. “He’s my cousin, from Diyala,” Ahmed replied, introducin introducingg me to every member of his gang. Te Christian kids I met before were there too. Tey exchanged exch anged few fe w lines in the Armenian Ar menian language lang uage with Ahmed, Ahme d, which only he understood. Tey taught him because he is their long childhood friend. And Christians don’t call just anyone a true friend, but when they do, they invite him into their home to be no less than a family member. Some of o f them were kids kid s my age; others were his, and some even older ol der.. Tey were all Gathering to play with marbles. Te way they play play,, it required skills and accuracy like none I have ever seen. It wasn’t just a game, It was an organized tournament by the neighborhoods that even some adult were gathering to see it. After the game has ended, he suggested that we rent a bike. ook  ook us few more minutes before reaching a man named “Abu Chaheel.” Not sure if his real name since it’s a name of the head of a fiction criminal gang on a favorite V show at the time. He’s a carpenter, but 53


has few bikes sorted next to his shop door. He’d rent it for kids just to the end of the street and back. Or set a timer time r, if you had the money mon ey for it. “ We want one for two hours.” Said Ahmed, with a weird smile on his face. “ Wha Whatt are you, craz crazy?”, y?”, Said Abu Chaheel, like he just heard a dumb joke. “ Want me to bend be nd over ov er,, too?”. “Not in front of our guests, guests,”” said Ahmed, moving few steps forward, placing his hand on his shoulder and said, “Want to ruin our reputation in Baghdad?.” “ Frankl Franklyy, I don’ don’tt give a fuc fuck. k. As long as you pay pay.” .” Te sudd sudden en change in the tone of voice was strange, to say the least. Ahmed started whispering to him, then got back saying, “I have to go home and bring more money, you wait here with him.” I know the house is less than half an hour ho ur away, away, but perhaps per haps I shouldn’ sho uldn’tt have been as agreeable in this situation. “Please,” “P lease,” Abu Chaheel said pointing at a wooden chair. “No thanks, I’m not tired,” I replied, it was inside his shop so I didn’t feel like it. “How is Baghdad?” he said. “Diyala,”” I replied, polite but unintereste “Diyala, uninterestedd way way.. Tis is getting unnerving. I felt a relief when he went inside, and I started checking the road 54


thinking if I can find my way to my aunt’s home. I follow the river, but which alley to the left should I go through. Not that Ahmed has taken too long to come back, but I didn’t like the situation I found myself in. Tought nothing about it and I started walking, checking every corner, eager to find a familiar road that can bring me back. If I got lost, I could always follow the river back again. Fond few kids that look younger than I am, also playing marbles, “Excuse me, do you know Ahmed jihad?”, I asked, genuinel genuinelyy thought everyone knows him from the way he always made it sound. “No, what school is he in?”, “ Torah, Torah,”” I replied. Tat much I know know,, remember remembering ing him talking about it. “No one here goes to that school school,” ,” Said one of the kids, “It “It’’s too far from here.” Ok, so I’m in another town. I later learned that this place calledd Nadran. It meant that I strayed calle st rayed way too far far.. I had to go back, but kids in this kind of neighborho nei ghborhoods ods are like territorial terri torial animals. animal s. Tey are unforgiven of a stranger trespassing on their borders, moreover, one that sticks out as I did. First, they started pushing me, they weren’t powerful, and I wasn’t the pushover that I looked like it. ake down the strongest one and worry about the rest later. Ten they quickly changed their tactics tact ics by throwing rocks from f rom afar. Tey were little kids, ki ds, but they were too many. many. Tey ran as soon as I chase ch ase after af ter them, and get back when I turn back but never too close. I chase after them just so 55


they’d turn back and as soon as they did, I did the same and ran away from them. I was able to lose them. the m. Wit With h just a bloody nose and a nd a dirty turndown shirt. I’m not in any pain though, but I was afraid of what w hat my mother would woul d say when she sees my shirt. It wasn’t my first fight, but it was my last good shirt. I was even holding the buttons with me so she would sew se w them back…. Wait, there was a mosque right next to a church. If I’m able to get to it, I’ I’llll be able to reach the second older church c hurch behind it where the Christian woman woman lives. lives. Don Don’’t remember any of their names but I’m sure people will recognize it. I traced my steps back and saw a woman watching watching her kids from from the window. window. “Excuse me, aunty aunty,” ,” as it it’’s the way of addressing an older woman. “Yes “Y es Habibi,” She said check checking ing me with a concern concerned ed look on her face “Are “Are you ok?” “I am fine, thank you,” I replied, pretending this is just another day for me. “I’m not from here; I’m a guest at my aunt’s house. But I seem to have lost the way back”. “ What are they called?” “Abu Ahmad Ahmad’’s house,” Maybe I should have mentioned that [Abu] means [Te father of ], I said knowing she wouldn’ wouldn’t know who they are. “ Teir house is close c lose to a mosque.” “ Tis town has four.” She replied, “Y “You ou remember the name?”. “No, but there is a church right across the street.” 56


“Oh Al Zuhair mosque!” She quickl quicklyy replied, eager to help. “ You see that bridge over there? Keep walking pass it, then go to the first ally to the right. Go straight ahead, at the end of it just ask anyone there, they’ they’llll point you in the right direction”. direction”. “ Tank you so much!” I said happil happilyy, I knew I could do it. “ Wait,” she said. Ten went inside and opened the door, and gave me cold water w ater to drink. dr ink. Ten a large pot p ot of water wate r to wash. I needed neede d this so bad. Maybe I’ll be able to say I just fall if it wasn’t for the buttons. “Are you a Christian Christian?” ?” She asked, “No.” I replied to her her,, but with the wondering and disappoi disappointed nted look on her face, I continued, “My grandfather was. But converted to Islam.” I lied. “Oh! Tat explains it.” She said. “Mem “Memoriz orizee the road on your way home. If you got lost, come back to me, and I’ll walk you there”. Te first part of the directions directions was straightforward straightforward to follow follow.. Even got got used to people staring at me. Te fight signs even repealed the other kids that might try and pick pic k another fight with me. Tis time I tried asking a man standing standing in their front front door smoking a cigarette, maybe waiting for the power to back on. Didn’t worry much because of my last experience with asking an adult, and the feeling that I’m getting close. “Excuse me, do you know where is “Al Zuhair mosque mosque”?” ”?” “ Wha Whatt the hell happen to you, kid?” He asked looking at my 57


dirty, torn clothes. “Where are your family?”. “Next to Al zuhair mosque,” I replied, worr worrying ying about what my mother would wou ld say, say, seeing me m e like this. thi s. But also hesitated h esitated to t o say I’m not from here, so I continued, “We just moved here, and I’m still not used to it.” “So you lost your home?” He asked. “I’m afraid so” I replied. “I’llll walk you home. Let us sew your shirt first.” He said, “Don’ “I’ “Don’tt you think they’ll they’ ll beat you if they saw you looking looking like this?”. He does have a point, I thought. “I still have the buttons with me; you think you can fix them?” “Of course I can!” he said eager eagerly ly,, “Come right in.” Ok, I was tired, beaten down and haven’t eat anything from breakfast, worrying my mother could get angry with me if she saw my shirt, and frankly just wanted a place to sit in. So shoot me. He pointed at the first room, and I entered. Ten set next to me saying “Let’s see how to fix you up.” He fixed my shirt, s hirt, the buttons, button s, and my pants. pants . I was so grateful grate ful to him! him ! “Now give a kiss to uncl uncle.” e.” He said. You Y ou should understand understand that kids, kids, kissing an adult on the cheek is very typical in our culture. Even what he said, “A kiss to uncle,” wasn’t the first time I hear that phrase. So he held my hand as in shaking it, and I kissed him on the cheek. He kissed me, then the next one. Giving a 58


kiss left and right, even more than one time is also standard. Adults do it to those dear to them. But when he started getting closer to my mouth, I immediately knew there is something wrong. I let go of his hand and headed to the room’s door trying to call up to his family. “You don’ don’tt nee needd to be afra afraid, id,”” He said said,, “No one one’’s here. here.”” My heart contracted. contr acted. I didn’t didn’t think anything can c an happen to me because bec ause I never neve r thought though t the house hou se to be empt emptyy. I went to the door doo r, ried opening o pening the lock but it was stuck. oo strong for me to open. He came up u p to me saying, “ W here are you going. I’m not going to hurt hur t you.” “Get the fuck away from me” I replied. I ran in circles inside the old-fashioned house. Rooms all around a large square garden in the middle. rying to get as far away from him as possible. He started saying things like “Don’t you want to get home,” or “I told you, no one’s one’s here.” I didn’t know what to say, instead of screaming “Help me,” I started yelling “Tie “Tieve!! ve!! Tieve!!”. Te memory of that fateful night has surfaced to my mind. From the way all houses designed, and even with the double thick walls, the neighbors can still hear hear you. I can see the panicked look on his face. As of now, I became a problem for him to solve. He tried to hold me from behind but couldn’t. Maybe afraid of touching me because then he’ll have to explain it to the people 59


breaking through the door. However, it didn’t come to that. I went back to the front door and this time pushing it before pulling the lock, and it came right off. Ran to the streets, with the sound of the mosque’’s loudspeak mosque l oudspeakers, ers, “Allah Akbar Akbar,” ,” it was w as my m y saving sav ing call calls. s. Was my my the beacon of hope. If it’s not the mosque I’m looking for, it will be a place I can find help. Found it, and then my way back home. “ What the hell were you thinking to leave him with Abu Chaheel?” Said Nosah, Nos ah, my cousin, cousi n, smacking Ahmed on his hi s head, “ You know ver ve r y well what he is.” Ten turned and started questioning me if he was the one that did this to me. Or if he ever touched me. Silence falls on all of us as soon as jihad arrived, bringing my mother with him. She can never find out about this. Hiding it from her, blaming my look on just “kids being kids” was much more comfortable for ever everyone. yone. I concluded from this journey is I never want to set foot in Basra ever again. Not alone, anyway. My mother saw how miserable her sisters were. Zainab is poor even by our standards. Who knew kne w that this is to happen when you have seven se ven children with wit h a depressed alcoholic alcoh olic father. Maysoon’ss husband is also Maysoon’ al so alcoholic, alcohol ic, but working in the th e ministry ministr y of oil, and having only onl y two kids, can make all al l the difference. differenc e. He not only has ha s no respect for her but can be very abusive as well. He once raped her, she told tol d my mother. And no one did anything about it. it . reating it as a joke since to them, a husband cannot rape his his wife if they’re married. married. 60


she said to me while we’re we’re on the train on our way back, “Tis will not be my life. I can use what I have to make the best of it.” “Ok,, how?” I said “Ok said,, “I’llll start with albistan. “I’ albistan.”” Ten continued continued,, “It “It’’s not the largest farm, but I’ll make sure to make it the envy of everyone ever lay his eyes on it”. She’s explaining to me all that she’ll do. All the trees she’ll plant, adjustment she’ll she’l l make. Planning which room Khalid will occupy when he gets married. I can hardly understand what she’s talking about as I just sat there, every everything thing is going quite in my mind, even her voice, I can only see her face lighten with a passion she found.

61


Chapter eleven: Spring eleven: Spring to the autumn.

Whenever spring arrives, the hollow trees regrow their leaves. Te garden blossom with all types of roses. Damasks, Jasmine, Syzygium, and Queen of the night. Te palm trees become heavy with the yet green dates. date s. We even have banana trees. tre es. Pla Planted nted many Rhamnus Rha mnus trees; she got their thei r seeds for f or from her last trip tr ip to Basra. We had no idea how ho w fast it will grow in the heat! Bought dozens of books about farming which made her notice the many wrong tradition people are following. Tis has become more than just work for her; her ; it’s an obsession to deal with her depression. Our neighbors who are farmers descended from other Farmers Farmers would ask her how she managed to make some trees grow in this climate. Te spring also single single an inferno with the wave wave of heat that that won won’t take long for it to arrive, and we have to endure it without electricity. For a while, we had somehow of an ordinary ordin ary life. l ife. W hile My grandfather grand father is befriending the neighborhood, he introduced us to everyone around us. People loved to visit us every night when the power is off since our house was the largest in the village. Spending hours telling stories and folktales, sometimes just talking. It was a sense of community I have never seen before. Everyone in the town are blood relatives of each other. Except for us, of course. Always been the case to our farm, because it never had one owner for more than five years, so much, so it’s believed that it’s cursed. Its fruit was the sweetest in all the village, 62


but that’ that ’s how it tempts people into it. It ruins every family that lives there. And we’re next. It wasn’t a big deal until unti l we found foun d a sort of a “confirmat “confirmation ion”” for it. As we were digging a foundation of the new walls, replacing the old clay ones, Tey saw my dog trying to dig something out. A shape of an ancient work of sorcery buried deep in the garden. A Half date tree trunk, wrapped in white clothes, white plastic bags, and wires. It is meant to resemble a buried corpse. Te same way we bury our dead, not with a coffin, as it is in the west. Maybe it’ it ’s the projection of our believes and thoughts into this, I mean what happens to those families families came before us. One thing for sure, sure, as we burned it, my parent’s relationsh relationship ip started to fall apart, more so than before. It started with a letter from my aunt in Jorden, telling my mother she’ss divorced, and she’ll she’ she’ ll be living with my grandfather back in Saudi Arabia. Tat gave her a motivation of not having to accept him anymore. Tat same night, they started the first of many fights to come. Arguing about the car, which he crashed, then about some money, which she kept asking him. I can sense that she’s about to say “I want a divorce,” only to back out in the last minute. She used to only take me with her. Sometimes to the neighbors. Tey once tricked tric ked us into eating rabbit meat thinking it was chicken. 63


Other times just go to the markets, a carnival or have dinner at some restaurant, then go back home walking for hours on the muddy road alongside the small river at night. “Don’tt worr “Don’ worry; y; I’m foll following owing your footste footsteps. ps. Ever Everyy foot placeme placement,” nt,” She said as while walking behind me. I got so nerves that I almost forgot how to walk and started heading to the mud, which made her do the same. “Come on! Now Now,, look what you did!” She said laughing, “ You ruined my shoes.”. “it’’s not just your shoes you ruine “it ruined,” d,” I said laughing, “Y “Your our clo clothes thes as well. Let’s see if my friends would still think you’re a doctor looking like this”. “Good, becau because se I’m not. I’m a farmer.” “Te best one of that.” I never saw her this happy before. I think for fo r some reason, I was her favorite. And perhaps that’ that ’s why my father disliked me the most. Wee also used to get many visits from my mother’ W mother’ss uncle, Razak. He was married to a Syrian wife who has a significant interest in witchcraft. Had three sons, one is an officer, two in college, c ollege, and one girl gir l who’s who’s two years older than than I am. She opened the subject with him first, “You “Y ou know what my father is like,” Said my mother, sitting next 64


to him, alone in the living room, room , while he’ he ’s watching watchi ng V, V, and ever e veryone yone is outside. Everyone but me, of course. “ What do you want? Omay’ma Omay’ma”. ”. He said, not trying to sympathize with her. her. I can see this is not the first time they they had this conversatio conversation; n; he knew what she’s saying. “I want a divorce,” Said my mother. He turned directly to her with glaring eyes, “You know what people would say if they heard you? Tey’ll Tey ’ll say you already have one under your arm”. arm”. “How can you say such a thing?” Said my mother with a furio furious us tone. Only slightly, as she still needs him by her side in this. “If you can’ can’tt accept it from me, how will you accept it from strangers?”, said, expecting her reply. “My sister Mona…..” “Your “Y our stupid sister doesn’ doesn’tt live in Iraq.” Said intercepti intercepting ng her her,, “I’ “I’dd break his arms and legs le gs if he mistreated mistreat ed you. I’ I’dd help you if you needed nee ded any help.” Stopped for a second, “Tis will not help you. Neither it is what you want want”. ”. “You don’ don’tt know that that.” .” “I know more than you do. I know in life, we don don’t’t get to make all the decisions, neither do we have to live with all of them, but this is something you have to live with. It’s no longer just about you. It’s about your kids.” My mother stared blankly at the ground weighing his words. He saw 65


how it affected her and continued, “Everyone is relying on you. Life is not just about what you want; it’ it ’s a series of commitments”. “Easy for you to say say,” ,” She said, “ You weren weren’t’t born in a prison. prison.”” He has a lot of power, giving his position, but wouldn’t use it bend the law. What I’ve seen from him, he likes to ask people if they ever needed something and comes to their aid when they do. d o. He gave me a puppy a few fe w years back that my mom insisted on naming him, Lucy. I know, a girl’s name, but what can you do. I once trapped Lucy in the outside bathroom for few hours, after I released him, he saw me entering ent ering the th e bathroom and came to sit next to the door. o my surprise, he starts hauling as if he would bite me when I try to leave. I was smart enough not to mess with him because I bled many times by him when he bit me. Most of the time was when I get close to him while he eats. However However,, did not tell anyone anyone so they wouldn’ wouldn’t take him away.. I tried getting out away o ut using the high, small window as I always do, I was halfway halfway out, turned around around and froze in position, shocked to see a giant wasp’s nest few centimeters from my face. I retreated very slowly because I knew how much it sting hurts. Not Not to mention that I tasted its pain twice in my eye. Many times in my body. I still have one big mark until this day. I stayed there for over an hour. Tat’s before my father chased him away. I don’t don’t think you can hide anything any thing for fo r long from a mother. mo ther. She figured fig ured out he has bit me; she told my father that he’s to be chained up. And that’s only after an hour of begging that I’d still keep him. It was a 66


very long chain, though staying like this for months has made him unfriendl unfrie ndlyy to anyone. It It’’s almost as hard for me too. Begging my m y mother every day to let him be free for few hours which she always says no. I came to play with him one afternoon and saw only the chain that he finally managed to get out. I followed him to the farm, forgetting that I’m still holding the chain in my hand, which startled him. And he bit my hand so hard that I screamed, followed it with a bite to the thigh. If I weren’t wearing very thick pants, I think he would have taken a mouth full. My father came running to my screams and scared him away. He held me while I was limping back to the house. Ten took a big sickle and ran after him with blood in his eyes. I followed him as fast as I possibly can with my current state and found him beating up the poor thing, left and right to his head and mouth; his tongue is cut, before long, lon g, he stopped stoppe d moving, while I was crying cr ying and screaming sc reaming trying to stop my father. father. He only stopped when I hugged Lucy Luc y crying cry ing over him. He let out his last breath on my arm. I was bleeding, but most of the blood on my clothes are from Lucy. I’m hugging him and crying. errified of the sheer imagery that stuck in my head of my father, killing a helpless creature, while he screams of pain, made me see a side of him that never ne ver thought existed.

67


Chapter eleven: Our winter.

“Stop treating me like a baby baby.” .” “You’ “Y ou’llll always be my baby baby.. Wh When en I die, you’ you’llll be an old man.” I didn’t didn’t talk much to t o anyone for a while. whi le. I can see myself, nine years old wearing black shorts and climbing a pipe to the the roof roof of the guesthouse to build a tent te nt so will not have h ave to live with my family f amily.. It It’’s where I saved my rarest and most valuable treasures. Marbles, strange looking rocks, buttons and the best of all, a giant magnet. Sitting in my hideout on the roof, listening to my parent’s fight, again. In the afternoon, the lion king was on, have never been so obssesed with a disney movie such as this one. one. I saw the death of mofasa when my mother changed the channel thinking this is too dark for me, there were some songs on so she started dancing, wearing one of her two favorite dresses. One is red, the other is identical, but yellow. She’s been dancing a lot lately, I thought. Te power is out that night, as we were sitting next to the stove, wondering when my grandmother grandmother will visit us next. “Next week” Mahmood Mahmood,, said. We all started to laugh. “If she came,” my mother said, “ you have a special gift from me.” My father is sitting a bit far from us, quiet. I was trying to study, and he said “Shh…Don’t bother your mother”. My mother asked ask ed Khalid to go the next n ext day and ask the “Sheikh” “She ikh” about 68


a dream she had. She was wearing a wedding dress while dancing under a red sky when it suddenly started raining blood. She was able to hide, but some of the t he blood got go t onto her. It was a big deal for f or her as she never tends to ask for such a thing. We were all afraid that the nightmares could come back and hunt her as it did before. “Are you sure you weren’t sleeping on your arm?” He asked that because her arms always hurt from the needles. “You all have school tomorrow,” she said, changing the subject “All of you, go to bed.” I used to sleep on a couch in the living room, same as Khalid, but few meters away from him. Didn’ Didn’tt take long before befo re they started starte d fighting in their place, continuing the one they had this afternoon. Again about the car he crashed. Everyone is asleep already, but I was still listening to my mother’s muffled muffled voice that I can only make some of it out, “I’m not afraid anymore. I want a divorce. I never wanted you. Is this what you want? What did you do with the money?” Te overlighten lantern in the living room made the smoke fill its flask. Making it go dimmer and dimmer. until the place became pitch black. I woke up at dawn with Khalid’s Khalid’s voice coming from the other room. “Azzo Azzoz!”, z!”, He was callin callingg for me. But I can see him still sleepin sleepingg not far from me. I realized I was dreaming, but before I laid my head back on the pillow, I heard the same voice again, “Come here, you bastard.” 69


I didn’t stay to question anything and went to my mother’s room and slept on her bed. bed . Closed my eyes, eyes , only to wake up with wit h the voice of my father telling me it’ it ’s time for school. “Can you heat some water for me first?” I asked my father, not only because it’ it ’s cold in the morning, but also to steal few fe w more minutes of sleep. “I already have,” He said, with a weird cat-li cat-like ke smile. It was a good day at school. Te teacher started a conversation with me in front of the class asking about my mother. She saw me with her from afar and wanted to say hi, but could not make it. eachers don’t usually have a casual conversation with students, so it was a big deal for me. Ten my friend told me he saw her too. Ask if she’s a doctor because she looked like one. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my mother about it. I’ve always been the first to get back from school because mine was the closest. Not to mention a shortcut off the road and within the farms that can take about ten minutes from the half an hour walk. From about two hundred meters from the house, our neighbor, Nabil, Saw me. It’s like he was expecting my arrival. He was five years older than Khalid, However, However, he didn did n’t go to high school school.. He raised raise d his arm a little saying with his eyes to the ground, “come here, Azzo Azzoz.” z.” “ Wha Whatt is it?” I asked. He didn didn’t’t say anything but wrappe wrappedd his hand around me, walking me home for just a few steps. Ten fall behind 70


while I’m walking in front of him, seeing my father sitting on the floor floor,, with his back back to the door, door, crying. I came close to him and asked, “ What happe happen?”. n?”. I felt like I knew what happened. As there is only one thing that can cause something like this. It wasn’t a big surprise. My mother was sick. She passed out once, while Zainab was with us. She kept coming in and out of it. Te whole house was screaming and crying until the ambulance arrived. “Te house has fallen .” He said, still crying. “ Wha Whatt do you mean?” I replied. But he kept saying the same words over and over with with tears in his eyes. I understood understood what it meant. Entered the house and started crying for about ten minutes behind the door. Ten I walked toward the house. ried to come through the front door but b ut it is locked. loc ked. I went to the roof, to the outside out side stairs, stairs , Ten through the palm tree, to the middle midd le yard, and then to the house. It was dark. But I was able ab le to see it was a mess. mes s. Tis is not how h ow I left lef t it. Came close to the to her room’s door, I saw blood everywhere. My mother is sleepingg half on sleepin o n the bed, be d, and the other o ther half on the floor flo or.. Like she didn’t have the strength strengt h to climb all al l the way to the bed. She She’’s wearing her red dress. Only it was the yellow one, but it’s painted red with the blood. So much of the money is spread everywhere in her room. Someone got it out of the closet c loset where she used to keep it. With all the clothes and everything on the floor. I don’t remember feeling anything. I was just…. Obser Observing. ving. 71


I’m heading toward the door when someone pushed it hard from the outside. It’s my brother, Khalid, with the police and my father. He came and saw my mother but quickly went to Nabil, who was standing next to him, held him and started crying on his shoulder. Tey didn’t even notice that I was already inside the house. As soon as Khalid heard the voice of my father, he turned to him yelling, “It was you! I know it it’’s you!”. But everyone was holding him left and right. I went outside and saw Mahmood. And asked him, “ Whe Where re were you?” “I was with the Mukhtar (sheriff ).” He replied. “ Wha Whatt did Khalid mean that it was my father?” “It was him. I saw everything.” “You’re “Y ou’re wrong,” I said. I don don’’t want to lose both parents on the same day. “You’re mistaking. You saw someone else and thought it was him”. As we were talking, my sister came. Didn’t know what was going on. “What took you so long?” I asked her, “I was held by “Um Hakki” (Te Mukhtar Mukhtar’’s wife), Didn’ Didn’tt want me to come home. She kept asking me to have lunch with the girls, and she’ll walk me home later. But I said, my mother, is waiting for me”. “Come on kids, you need to leave” Said Nabil, and asking us all to go to the farm. Tey just pushed us there and closed the door behind us. Tey were going to get my mother out. 72


“ What is happening?” My sister asked me, “ Why are the police here?” “A thief attacked my mother while she was alone,” I replied. “Oh my god!” She screamed, “Is she ok?” “I don don’t’t know,” know,” I replied, repli ed, “L “Let et’’s pray that she is just jus t passed passe d out.” ou t.” I had an uneasy feeling while saying it. Before we’d do anything so my mother wouldn’t pass out, now that’s the best we can hope for. Wee stayed there with little talk and many prayers. Zenah, didn’ W didn’t ask me a lot of questions ques tions because becau se it was like she didn di dn’t’t want to know much. She didn d idn’’t ’ want me to say anything, fearing that it may come true. tr ue. She just sat crying, sitting on her school bag. Tey opened the door door,, and we got out seeing seei ng my father in handcuffs, han dcuffs, held from his arm by the police. He saw their car and stopped, refusing to get in, until they forced him in. Te Mukhtar Mu khtar took to ok us to his house, Brought us dinner. His wife, wif e, Um Hakki, is crying all the time. But not me, or Mahmood, just Zenah and her. I feel dizzy, It is afternoon now, and I haven’t eaten anything all day. Khalid didn’t come with us but went with the Muktar to follow my father to prison. Came back a few hours later and called Razak, “My father, kill my mother.” that word, [Kital] means both killed and hit. “Shut your you r filthy mouth” Razak replied. rep lied. He thought it i t ’s a domestic violence issue. Everyone Ever yone we know has come to see us, while we’re sitting in the poorly poor ly 73


lite old room that Al Mukhtar has made as his office. “What happened exactly Mahmood? “, Said al-Mukhtar, “ell them everything you told me.” And my five years old brother started talking, while a room full of people, men and women, listening to him. “I was asleep; my mother got for her morning pills, my father came wearing a [Keffiyeh] (Tat Arabic red headwear). He hit her from behind with a large pipe that had a piece of Concrete at the end of it. We had it before; it was used, as others like it, to fix the grape vines. My mother fell and quickly came into the room room and locked the door. My father Brook the door and came to her. She backed away from him, fall into the ground and crawled on her back, backing away into the corner cor ner when he hit her on the head, h ead, she was still alive, al ive, so then he brought out a sickle and started hitting her on her chest. urned to me and tied me up, covered me with blankets. I was able to hear that he stayed for a while. When he left, I uncovered my face and saw my mother trying to get on the bed. She asked me to bring her a glass of water.. I was able to untie my ropes, when I got back to her; she was water already dead. I went out to ask for help when I found the Mukhtar, then we went to the police.” Most people there started crying. When he finished speaking, there were moments of silence. Ten everyone started saying things like, “He was the most peaceful person we know.” Or, “What excuse could he possibly have to do something like this.”. 74


His stupid plan p lan was to make it look lo ok like it was a house burglar. He hid the weapons, stole the money and made it look like the burglar looked for it first. Put the money in a large bag, and went to his friend’ friend ’s house saying “Keep the money with you unless it is me, or my wife comes to it.” Many people saw him on the way holding a large bag on his shoulder. It’s because the car was broken down. Tey asked him, and he said he is taking it to the tailor to fix it. A thought has come to me, made me lay my head on the mattress as I felt I’m about to pass out, this is all my fault! Women W omen wail, man yell, others already reading Quran in her name. And we were just sitting there, unsure if we’re the one who died, and this is our hell.

To be continued... 75

My Life Beyond The Pale - Azooz

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