I’ve been waiting in the kitchen for nearly half an hour, though it feels much longer. I recognize the heavier footsteps descending towards the second floor. Leaving my bowl of halwa, I excitedly scurry into the corridor just as Nabeel arrives into view. He doesn’t look my way and is just about to step onto the next flight of steps to go down to the shop when my words stop him.
“Are you ready?”
Hearing my voice, Nabeel turns around and smiles at me. He looks more dressed for a lunch than for the park. “Ready for what?”
I start making my way towards him. “You said you’d take me to the park.”
He hesitates for a moment, his grin diminishing. “Was that today?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow for deployment, aren’t you?” I stop right in front of him. “You said we’d go the day before you leave.”
Nabeel takes a deep breath as an apologetic expression washes over him. “Sorry, buddy. Looks like I’m going to have to take a rain check. I have to go take care of some things before I leave.”
I knew he’d say that. Something always comes up. My heart sinks. Without a word, I look down.
“But I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend a whole day at the best park or garden we can find.”
“You always say that.” My words are barely audible.
“This time, I’m telling the truth.” Bending down a bit, he playfully flicks me on my forehead, forcing me to look back up at his smiling face and genuine, caring eyes. “Just wait and see, Dr. Zaid… just wait and see.”
As the memory of my brother fades, I find myself standing over a fallen fence and looking into a garden. My eyes are on the Turkey Oak. The last time I saw one of these was when my two best friends and I were walking back from school. It was only hours before this wicked battle began. Why does that seem like a different lifetime?
Thinking back even further, I remember Nabeel taking me out to a tree just like this one for my ninth birthday. He taught me how to climb it. I was terrified, but his conviction was so strong that I couldn’t say ‘no’. A few steps into it, I fell straight down and he caught me like it was nothing. He’d always catch me when I needed it, was always there for me in one way or another.
That was all a long time ago.
My ears pick up some high-pitched noise. What’s that sound? It’s coming from the tree. I hear it again before seeing the source. Surrounded by green leaves, the bird is so small that I have to squint to make out its features. It’s the Palestinian Sunbird. No more than ten centimeters long, I recognize its black and navy feathers. It chirps again as it hops along the branch.
How did I not recognize a chirp when I heard it? Have I really not heard one in so long? The more I think about it, the more the realization dawns: I haven’t seen any animal outside of vultures since this entire ordeal began. Is that why the city has been so silent?
The Sunbird looks at me. Our gazes lock, and I feel a moment of peace as a bit of reassurance washes over me. It loudly and almost cheerfully chirps again, breaking the stillness. And then once more. Not a moment later, it stretches out its wings and flies into the air, as if it is heading straight towards the sun.
The bird disappears into the blue sky. I take a deep breath before turning away from the scene.
I push all the memories away and keep moving forward. I know that I’m going along the highway. Every now and then, I can see it between the buildings to my left. The only trouble will be finding Salman and Fatima in all this. If they’re sleeping or resting in a building, I could very well go right by them and never know it.
No, don’t think like that, Zaid. Hold on to that hope you felt.
Trudging forward, I don’t look back at the garden. Instead, I keep my gaze focused on the destruction ahead of me. The sun is at its highest point now as it looks down upon a city I don’t think even it recognizes. It’s hotter than ever. The dry heat I grew up in seems to be permeating right through me. Has it always been this hot during the summer? Or has this battle and destruction only made it so much worse?
Just as before, I come across a handful of people every now and then. I usually hear their footsteps a few moments before I see them. Almost all of them are in pairs or small groups. Most of them don’t give me more than a glance. They seem to be headed west, probably going towards Mansoura.
I’m so used to all the carnage now that I don’t take the time to observe any of it. Instead, I move on while holding on to the dim hope that I will catch a sign of my friends. The rational part of me knows the odds. I have a better chance to run into a thousand different things before catching a whiff of them. However, the part of me that felt solace during prayer or while reading the letter, the piece of my soul that felt hope as it watched the dawn break the night, continues to clench on to the faith that I will be reunited with them.
And so I move on. I continue to trek upon the desolate roads that are littered with wreckage and blown to bits. I continue to march between the debris that was once a bustling city. When there are no distant bombs going off, all I hear is a smoldering pile of ash or my wearying footsteps as they echo up and down the abandoned street.
I wonder if Salman and Fatima are thinking about me as I am of them. Maybe they—
Gunfire.
The shrilling bullets rock the street. The barrage came from one street over. Before I can even fully grasp the situation, my feet whisk me away. I’ve hardly even registered what’s happening when I’m dashing through an alley and towards the chaos.
“Come out!” The bullets end and a voice cuts through the still air. It sounds vile—just like the one that shot Jari. “Come out now and maybe I won’t shoot you!”
The laughter of another malevolent voice fills the air.
Why am I heading towards it? I’ve barely asked myself that question by the time I emerge on the other end of the alley.
In the next instant, the machine gun goes off again. I hear the endless bullets violently break against concrete as I catch sight of the scene. There are two men. They’re not wearing any kind of uniform. Not even thirty yards away, their backs are turned towards me as they shoot at a slab of concrete. The lank man leans a rifle over his shoulder, while the burly one fires away at their target. The gunfire is so deafening that I can’t hear my own thoughts.
The bullets are sprayed onto the barrier with nothing held back. I quickly register what’s happening. Those men—they’re trying to shoot whoever is behind it, not even giving them a chance to defend themselves.
The burly man’s gun runs dry with a loud click. As he effortlessly reloads it, the lank man lets out a snicker before his loud words echo once more. Every syllable is filled with a vile arrogance. “If you refuse to be with us, then you don’t deserve to live. You’re no better than Assad himself!”
Eyes wide, my mind screams to turn and run. I try to flee back from where I came… but my heart doesn’t let me. Not this time. Not anymore.
What do I do? I don’t have a weapon. I can’t attack two men head-on. Finished reloading, the burly man begins firing at the concrete again. I look to the right. Then the left. My eyes see the answer. Will it work? I don’t know. I don’t care. I can’t abandon whoever is being shot at.
Without another thought, I take off, my footsteps silenced by the roaring gunfire. As soon as I enter the building, I hear the gun go dry. The burly man again reloads it, and the lank man’s cruel voice cuts through the air once more.
“Quit cowering like sniveling dogs. We gave a choice to you and your si—”
I can’t hear the rest of his words as I hurriedly fly up the flight of stairs. Stepping onto the second floor, I falter for a moment. Do I keep going higher? No, too high and I might miss. I only have one shot.