Now no force in the world could make them part again, neither the noise of guns and rockets all around nor the loud abuse of enemies or the whispers of their friends, nor the orders of the Imam or the Devil or the Chief of Security himself.
I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the trench alone with the letter folded in my hand. Where was Fadl Allah? I wondered. Where had he disappeared to? Had he died in the war? Had he died in prison? In the distance I could hear their panting breath draw nearer, their feet treading on the ground with the sound of their iron-heeled shoes. So I started to run in the dark of night, trying to save my life. They kept coming after me, their dogs yapping and barking behind them, and I kept on running, now knowing why I was running like this all the time. I had got as far as the spot where the hill begins to rise. It was just before the break of day and I was on the verge of giving them the slip when one of them took aim at me and got me in the back. My body continued to run a few steps, then fell to the ground, but before the letters of the alphabet had disappeared from my mind I said, ‘He was my brother and he was with me in the children’s home.’
‘Your sins are without end and shall be counted against you, in this world and in the world to come,’ I heard them say. ‘You are a child of sin and so is he, and his name is not written either on the lists of Hizb Allah or on those of Hizb al-Shaitan.’
I was running, and the night was black as ever. I could hear them tread with their iron feet as they chased after me. I touched my belly with my hand, feeling for it in the night as I ran. It was round and smooth and loving, warm under my palm. His voice reached me, calling from a distance, sounding like the voice of my mother: ‘Bint Allah, come here.’ He moved nearer to me, until our bodies almost touched. I wound my arms around him and we locked in a tight embrace.
A shiver like a strange fever went right through me, deep inside. A voice whispered softly in the night, ‘Fear not, I am God and you shall give birth to Christ.’ It was dark and I was still running with the letter held tightly in my hand. I hid it in my bosom when I heard them panting close behind. I delivered his letter to her. I will risk my life to save it. It is more precious to me than the most precious thing I have. I will risk being stoned to death, like the Virgin Mary who risked her life to give birth to her son, like my mother who died to bring me to the world. When I reached the place where the hill starts to rise upwards, midway between the river and the sea, the smell of the earth came back to me. Suddenly I felt safe, and just at the moment when I could have escaped I stopped to thank God for saving me.
As I knelt in prayer they hit me in the back. They always struck me from behind, and when I turned around to face them they quickly disappeared. They never looked me in the face. Before I fell to the ground, wounded in the back, I said to myself, ‘My belly was full of the fruit of love when I kneeled on the ground to pray,’ but I heard the Chief of Security say, ‘Love does not exist, only the fruit of sin.’
Collective Fear
On the night of the Big Feast, while the drums were beating and the pipes were blowing in celebration of victory, they came upon her body where it lay on the way leading from her house to the front, just where the hill starts to climb midway between the river and the sea. She was lying on her back, and her eyes, wide open and black, looked up at the sky steadfastly. Her face was still and the world was still, as though everything had stopped to look at her there where she lay. Not a hair moved on her head in the night breeze, not a tremor touched the down on the edge of her nose or over her neck. Under the moon her skin, which was as brown as silt, had turned pure white, like that of a maiden in Paradise or a mermaid rising from the sea. Nothing covered her
I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the trench alone with the letter folded in my hand. Where was Fadl Allah? I wondered. Where had he disappeared to? Had he died in the war? Had he died in prison? In the distance I could hear their panting breath draw nearer, their feet treading on the ground with the sound of their iron-heeled shoes. So I started to run in the dark of night, trying to save my life. They kept coming after me, their dogs yapping and barking behind them, and I kept on running, now knowing why I was running like this all the time. I had got as far as the spot where the hill begins to rise. It was just before the break of day and I was on the verge of giving them the slip when one of them took aim at me and got me in the back. My body continued to run a few steps, then fell to the ground, but before the letters of the alphabet had disappeared from my mind I said, ‘He was my brother and he was with me in the children’s home.’
‘Your sins are without end and shall be counted against you, in this world and in the world to come,’ I heard them say. ‘You are a child of sin and so is he, and his name is not written either on the lists of Hizb Allah or on those of Hizb al-Shaitan.’
I was running, and the night was black as ever. I could hear them tread with their iron feet as they chased after me. I touched my belly with my hand, feeling for it in the night as I ran. It was round and smooth and loving, warm under my palm. His voice reached me, calling from a distance, sounding like the voice of my mother: ‘Bint Allah, come here.’ He moved nearer to me, until our bodies almost touched. I wound my arms around him and we locked in a tight embrace.
A shiver like a strange fever went right through me, deep inside. A voice whispered softly in the night, ‘Fear not, I am God and you shall give birth to Christ.’ It was dark and I was still running with the letter held tightly in my hand. I hid it in my bosom when I heard them panting close behind. I delivered his letter to her. I will risk my life to save it. It is more precious to me than the most precious thing I have. I will risk being stoned to death, like the Virgin Mary who risked her life to give birth to her son, like my mother who died to bring me to the world. When I reached the place where the hill starts to rise upwards, midway between the river and the sea, the smell of the earth came back to me. Suddenly I felt safe, and just at the moment when I could have escaped I stopped to thank God for saving me.
As I knelt in prayer they hit me in the back. They always struck me from behind, and when I turned around to face them they quickly disappeared. They never looked me in the face. Before I fell to the ground, wounded in the back, I said to myself, ‘My belly was full of the fruit of love when I kneeled on the ground to pray,’ but I heard the Chief of Security say, ‘Love does not exist, only the fruit of sin.’
Collective Fear
On the night of the Big Feast, while the drums were beating and the pipes were blowing in celebration of victory, they came upon her body where it lay on the way leading from her house to the front, just where the hill starts to climb midway between the river and the sea. She was lying on her back, and her eyes, wide open and black, looked up at the sky steadfastly. Her face was still and the world was still, as though everything had stopped to look at her there where she lay. Not a hair moved on her head in the night breeze, not a tremor touched the down on the edge of her nose or over her neck. Under the moon her skin, which was as brown as silt, had turned pure white, like that of a maiden in Paradise or a mermaid rising from the sea. Nothing covered her
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