Hope. They are careful to use that word, and not wish. And they are careful not to speak of friends or family. But in the silences, as they labor up or downhill, that is what they think about: who will be waiting for them.
Amal thinks of her father. She pictures him on the steps of the city hall, in uniform, shoulder to shoulder with all the others who gave their lives for justice: These are the ones. She hopes to stand beside him again, but if that’s too much to ask, she is prepared to stand for him, and carry on his legacy.
Samir thinks of his sons. In his heart he is certain that they are out there somewhere. What he is less sure of is whether he will be permitted to see them. The majority of his thoughts are focused on this, and on how he will begin to search. But beyond Malik and Jibril, there is room in his hopes for one other—not so much a specific person, a specific man, as an idea of one. It is still not an idea he would dare to voice aloud, but he can at least conceive of it now, and wonder whether, on this side of the storm, some things might be possible that were not before.
Mustafa thinks, of course, of Fadwa. He doesn’t know if he will see her again. He doesn’t know, if he does, whether anything will be different. He would like a chance to tell her he is sorry, and he would certainly be willing to try again: To be kind. To be honest. To be a bit less of a fool. Trying doesn’t mean succeeding, though, and he is still the same man, with the same flaws.
But he is willing to try. And to ask for help. And that more than anything is what he hopes for: that waiting in the city will be one whom he can ask for help with his struggle—the struggle of the future he must still face, and the struggle of the past he must learn to let go.
They walk all the rest of that day, a day that seems to go on endlessly. But it does end, finally. As the sun sinks below the horizon, they crest one last dune, and there it is, sprawled on the plain below them: a white-walled city, with lights of evening just coming on.
They stand on the dune looking down.
“I don’t recognize it,” Amal says. “Do you?”
“No,” Samir says.
“No,” says Mustafa.
But it’s not entirely foreign to them. Here and there, along the unfamiliar streets, they see shapes they do recognize: domes and steeples and towers. And even now, in a minaret near the outer wall, a muezzin begins his cry, words and a language they know.
They stand on the dune and listen to the call. More lights come on. People move in the streets. “God willing,” says Mustafa. And then he and Samir and Amal go down, in hope, to the city.
Acknowledgments
Thanks are due, as always, to my one and only wife, Lisa Gold, who served as my first reader, sounding board, research assistant, and cheerleader. My agent, Melanie Jackson, offered encouragement at a time when I still wasn’t sure the novel would work. My publisher, Jonathan Burnham, and my editor, Rakesh Satyal, were also early supporters, and Rakesh helped me across the finish line with a minimum of pain and suffering. Tim Duggan shepherded me through publication. Others who gave assistance or encouragement include Alison Callahan, Nancy Gold, Rita and Harold Gold, Ernest Lehenbauer, Matthew Snyder, Neal Stephenson, Lydia Weaver, and Henry Wessells. Special thanks to the late (and sorely missed) Reverend Jack Ruff, whose insights into human nature continue to serve me well.
In constructing the mirage world, I drew upon many sources, including works by Peter Bergen, Mark Bowden, Anne Garrels, Shahla Haeri, William R. Polk, Thomas E. Ricks, Zainab Salbi, David Thibodeau, Evan Wright, Lawrence Wright, and Amira El-Zein. Quotations from the Quran are taken from Abdullah Yusuf Ali’s English-language translation. Bible quotations are taken from various translations, including the New International Version, the New Revised Standard, and the King James.
Finally, I am indebted to Karen Glass and Caitlin Foito, who started me on my way by asking me to tell them a story. It’s taken four and a half years, and the end result is surely not what they had in mind, but I am grateful they made the wish.
About the Author
MATT RUFF was born in New York City in 1965. He is the author of the award-winning novels Bad Monkeys and Set This House in Order, as well as the cult classics Fool on the Hill and Sewer, Gas & Electric. He is the recipient of a 2006 National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship. Ruff lives in Seattle with his wife, Lisa Gold.
Visit Matt Ruff on the web at www.bymattruff.com.
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Also by Matt Ruff
Bad Monkeys
Fool on the Hill
Set This House in Order: A Romance of Souls
Sewer, Gas & Electric: The Public Works Trilogy
Credits
Jacket Design by Oliver Munday
Copyright
THE MIRAGE. Copyright © 2012 by Matt Ruff. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Ruff, Matt.
The mirage / Matt Ruff.—1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-06-197622-3
I. Title.
PS3568.U3615M57 2011
813'.54—dc22
2011012895
12 13 14 15 16 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Epub Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN: 9780062097934
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