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Everyone at home was
impatiently waiting for my brother " Khaled " to
come back from his work .. The curfew started at
five o'clock in the evening of the last Monday of
October.. Ugly panic spread in the hearts of the
villagers as the caller announced what was about to
happen
Let all be notified
all should notify
their absent sons and relatives to return
immediately to their homes
you have only two hours
to do that starting from now ..
If only that day had never
come .. If only bitterness had never been created
... If only pain becomes dirt without subjecting
peaceful people for a long time ..Horror , running
and screams have joined forces to invade us .. That
day I saw my father worried as never before
His
strange worries were very annoying and they were
justified
He felt a disaster was about to hit our
village that evening
Five to five. gunshots coming
from the north
from the Mosque area in the center
of the village which people deserted as the season
of picking olives had arrived
My father murmured
something while tears sparkled in his eyes:
- May God protect us !! Everyone
is safe in his house ,yet Khaled is not here .. I
wonder why is he late ?
The doors , made from heavy
wooden boards , were locked tightly and then
supported with logs of big olive trees in the hope
that they would prevent soldiers from breaking in .
Each time a bullet was heard everyone would run to
take a cover in the shadow of the long , stony
walls that surrounded our yards and that carried
bundles of wood gathered from the recently picked
fields.. The buzzing of the bullets kept increasing
a bit by bit ... then we realized that our village
was teemed with fully armed soldiers
Fear prevailed
among those children who were screaming and shaking
.. Women tried to calm them so that soldiers would
not notice them . Nobody dared to go out to the
street , not even to look over the stair or between
the cracks in the wooden door .
As the children stacked
around my mother in one of the house's corners and
as their voices faded out , a strange scream came
from the center of the neighborhood .. It was an
unusual scream
First we thought it was a howling
.. It wasn't that .. It was a continues scream of
a child
How could one stay in his hide when you
hear such a scream
We ran to see what was
happening through the door's cracks
It was "YUSUF
THE DEAF " , " Haj Saleem's " son . . He didn't hear
the announcement
All the time he didn't know what
was going on
yes it was him
a ten-year-old boy
he raised up his hands to surrender and he shouted
at that soldier who crouched and pointed his weapon
to spare him and leave him to his deafness and
muteness
I won't forget him as he rushed crying ,
after being released , towards the Abdullah's house
, a nearby house . He knocked on the door violently
and he was determined not to die .. The door was
opened and the mute disappeared . If this was the
case with the mute , what would happen to my
brother "Khaled" if they find him in the street
coming back from his work and not knowing the
situation we were in. Poor "Khaled" ... he didn't
know what was awaiting him ..Then , my mother
my
sisters and my father cried . Indeed , my father
cried . It was the first time for me to see my
father crying .
Night spread over the village
... a different night ... that encompassed all kinds
of loneliness ... and different meanings of tyranny
... and darkness that brought to us the first rain
of this year . .. We were told by those who managed
to escape the soldiers that killing had been planted
in the streets of the village
many lives had been
taken.. the late ones were harvested .
Weeping was everywhere , and
the world didn't sleep that night . The owl warbled
.. and the crow danced out of joy at the death party
..
The storm didn't calm down
till morning .. The bullets didn't stop till sunrise
.. The weeping of the women and the virgins is
continuous till this day ..
People kept calling each
other over the walls
they wanted to know what
was happening
. but who could bring them the news
?? The villagers possessed few radio sets and no
news were heard on those radios except those of the
war and the recruitments
The village didn't hear a
phone ring ever .. not to talk about TVs .
As the day went slow and
as the smell of the wet earth after the first rains
filled the place , our neighbor , Saleh , sneaked to
his house carrying with him good news
however , he
could not talk
his tongue was tied
his face was
pale and it showed there was something grave and
sever going on
his weary eyes indicated that
there was a disaster
his clothes were covered with
blood
indeed, it was a an ample waterfall
- Saleh ! what's wrong ! Speak up
man !!
- Leave me alone
go away
- Tell us what happened
The man could not control himself
and he burst into tears , like a child , mumbling
words :
- Channels
of blood
. in the
streets
they killed all the villagers
I've seen
my daughter , " Mariam " , among the dead bodies
the bullets have torn up her body .. she has drowned
in her blood
. I hugged her and kissed her
The smiling face of my mother
turned dark and the iron heart of my father was
broken .. My silent feelings moved and motions of
the simple villagers trembled
Their souls were
filled with sorry and sadness .. Soon , concepts
faded out and every house was ready to accept the
bitter reality especially after the color of the sun
mingled with the color of time that it looked gray
and detestable .
Surely , our curfew would not
last forever
before curfew was ended , my fathers
and others were gathered to identify the dead
There were forty nine bodies
all martyrs
yes
martyrs
" Khaled " was not among them
he was
among the missing ones
. There was no trace of him
Grief and sorrow wracked the
souls and burned everything
. The weeping of the
women sitting in the middle of the neighborhood
filled the space
The wailing of the girls caused
a lot of agony . Their sight was very touching. If
my tears had been collected as I saw them tearing
up their clothes and covering their heads with dirt
, they would have exceeded the waiter in the sea
and in the oceans..
Only that night
when they finished off the martyrs did Life join the
women to shed tears
it proceeded everyone in doing
so
O eye ! cry ! cry ! And the men went out
gazing at the sky with angry eyes and writhing so
their complaint would reach the Lord of heaven
Damn you evanescent Life
oh
oh
. We are fed
up
Who are you leaving us to
to a relative that
scolds us , or to a butcher that controls us
Three days ago they were among us
and now they are
under the ground
Values have fallen apart
souls
have worn down
and the sea has ran out
" Khaled " came
back but he was in a miserable situation
he was
utterly distracted
staggering like a drunk person
that couldn't speak or move properly .. While
coming back from work , he heard gunshots
he ran
to the near vineyards and hided there
Four long
days he stayed there hiding in the carob well like a
terrified lizard
At night , he would go out and
eat from the olives of the trees
and then return
to his hole before day light comes
My mother
rushed towards him
hugging and kissing him
with
her face covered
and tears : " Khaled " your uncle
has died
your aunt
. your cousin
. all dead .
( Kufur Qassem )
***********
Translated by: Hussin
Sursur
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