By now Abrau only had one card to play. “I’ll take and sell the wood. When you were traveling with Uncle Aman, you were only riding the donkey. You don’t think I know that? And if you were any good at that, he’d still be taking you with him. I’ll take the bundle and sell it. If you like it, fine; if not, we each can take our own. You have a sickle; if you don’t like it, go and fill up your own bundle.”
“Fine, I’ll give you the sickle!”
“Forever?”
“No! Just for today. Go and gather a decent bundle for yourself and bring it. What else do you want?”
Abrau replied, “Agreed. Give me the sickle. I have half a bundle. I’ll gather another equal pile and have a full bundle then.”
“So now you want to turn around and go to the fields carrying a bundle of corkwood? Won’t you be embarrassed? Who have you ever seen walking from the village to the fields carrying kindling wood? You want everyone to laugh at you?”
“So let them laugh. Are they giving me bread to eat that I should care if they laugh?”
Abbas ground his teeth and said, “Just stop this game playing, you fool. I’ll beat you senseless! The hungry man has no fear of God. I’ll just shut my eyes and choke you. Don’t think that just because you’re my brother, I’ll show you mercy. No! My belly’s aching from hunger. I could rip the meat from your bones just with my teeth! So come on, don’t fool around. I’m not going to go and eat all the bread this bundle will buy; you’ll have your share, too. I swear on the honor of our brotherhood. Why do you want to bother me so much? I’m at the end of my rope with you. Don’t you respect your faith and religion? Don’t you believe in God? I’m your own brother, your older brother! Aren’t you embarrassed …? You little nothing! Why do I have to talk myself hoarse to make you understand? Can’t you show a little mercy to me? You want me to lose my voice with all of this shouting? My body’s shaking all day and night from the evil you do to me. Why do you act like I’m your enemy? You want me to go mad and head out for the wastelands because of you?”
Abrau said, “I’ll take the bundle.”
“You’ll take it? Are you mocking me, you son of a bitch little nothing! You’ll take it? I’ll show you!”
In one way or another, Abbas leapt like a rabbit onto Abrau’s pile of wood and grabbed the cloth of the bundle. Abrau also, in one leap, threw himself onto his pile and wrapped his body around it. Abbas lost control. His blood rushed to his eyes, and he saw nothing more. He only wanted to peel Abrau, who was stuck onto the pile of wood like a leech, off of the bundle and to put the two piles of wood together. He opened his arms wide and picked up the bundle — which had become one with Abrau — lifted it to his chest, and smashed it to the ground. But Abrau still clung onto his small bundle and wouldn’t let go. Abbas lifted his foot and brought a heavy blow down on Abrau’s back, so that he let out a cry. Despite this, he didn’t let go of the bundle. He was screaming and holding on. Abbas was like a mad dog. His anger was overflowing. With a struggle, despite scratching the backs of his hands badly, he managed to get his arms under Abrau’s belly and hold him in a tight embrace. He fell on one knee and pulled Abrau to his chest and stomach. But Abrau wouldn’t let go. Abbas stuck himself to his brother’s back, put his knee in the small of his back, and took his dirt-covered ear between his teeth and bit.
As a result of the pressure from Abbas’ knee, the tight hold around his body, and the pain of his brother’s teeth biting his ear, Abrau lost consciousness and, like a bit of cargo that has fallen from a load, with a quick kick, he fell onto the clods of earth beside the wall of the ruins.
Abbas’ mouth was full of blood. He spit. The blood was salty. He rolled his brother’s head on the earth and looked at his injured ear. The left side of Abrau’s face was covered in blood. The rays of the sun glittered in the crimson blood. Abbas sat on a pile of dirt and put his head in his hands. He couldn’t even cry. It was as if he could only cry in blood-tears. He rose and gathered Abrau’s woodpile and added it to his own. He left Abrau’s cloth next to where he had fallen. He sat next to the new bundle and set it against his back.
Now that’s what you call a bundle of wood!
He set his back against the bundle and set one knee into the ground, and with an effort lifted it from the ground. He stayed bent and adjusted the heavy bundle on his back. Abrau was there, fallen before him. He passed by Abrau and stepped into the road. His shadow fell before him, and he walked with an eye to the shadow cast by the bundle. He wished it looked bigger. But it didn’t look very big from this angle. The sun was shining from behind him. So he turned and stood with his side to the sun. Now the shadow looked bigger. It gave Abbas a sense of satisfaction. He set back out on his way, going up another alley. The sound of Abrau’s heavy breaths stopped him. He turned. Abrau was running up from behind him. He stood. Abrau’s eyes looked like two hot coals. Two hot coals and smoke. Abbas felt sorry for him. Despite this, he snapped at him, “Well, now what do you want? Wasn’t what you got enough for you!”
Abrau replied, “The sickle. I want your sickle.”
3
Abrau returned as the sun was setting. He had a bundle of wood on his back, and sweat was dripping from the tip of his nose. His face was white in the moonlight. His lips and cheeks were trembling from weakness. His heart felt empty. The sweat that covered his face and ears was not the sweat of fatigue; more than that, it was a sweat of weakness. Of fragility. He felt as if the very fabric of his body was coming apart. He had heard the saying “If a man’s knees begin to tremble, he will eventually fall.” However, Abrau refused to fall. He conjured up the last reservoir of strength within him and took another step toward the awning of the bread oven. Gasping, he arrived and leaned the bundle against the wall, and his knees began to fold under him. The wood stalks scraped against the wall as they slid to the ground. He sat down, leaning his back against the bundle of wood. His legs extended out beneath him, and his eyelashes, heavy with sweat, slowly shut as his arms stretched out naturally to each side. But he didn’t remove the bundle’s strap from his chest. It was as if his body was melting. His head was spinning and he felt like a kite lost in the air, fluttering along. It felt as if his body’s weight was dissipating. It felt like coming apart at the seams, like breaking apart, and transforming into the tiniest speck. Like being torn off like a meteor is torn off a star. Hanging, suspended, and abandoned. Hanging in a moment’s hesitation between being and nothingness. Selfless, blowing in the wind, swinging. It seemed to him as if nothing was tethered to its place. Dust filled the air, blowing around everything. Blowing onto the millstone, mixing with the grains of wheat. Swinging, like on a swing. Soluch once took the family on a New Year’s picnic. On that day, he hung a swing from a tree for the children. A rope hung between two willows.
Abrau became dizzy, nauseous. Abrau was torn from his place by the bile that was pushing up from his intestines. Rising, the bundle of wood was lifted along with him. He knelt over, and the wood slid over and on him. Bile. Abrau vomited and fell on the ground chin first. The bundle slid to one side on top of him. The pressure in his intestines was not quelled. It kept throbbing. Wind blew within his empty intestines. He had no strength left in him to move. But the pressure inside compelled him to do something. The notion occurred to him to rid himself of the bundle of wood, so he grasped the knot on his chest and with a motion opened it. The bundle loosened and fell to one side. Abrau became lighter. More vomit. Not just bile, this time also some blood. He quickly lifted a finger to his ear. No, the blood on his ear was caked dry. He didn’t want to believe that he had brought up blood. Drenched in sweat, he crawled on all fours into the house and dragged himself to the foot of the stove. The extinguished stove.