Civil Blood

Chapter 22

She found Haider packing one morning, cramming clothes into an old rucksack. He was bent over the bed, which was covered with shirts and trousers.

“What are you doing?”

Haider didn’t pause or look up, but just called over one shoulder; “I need to go away on business for two days. Three at most.”

A little trickle of anger which had been dominant in Lena’s stomach suddenly swelled and rose up like bile in her throat.

“No.” She’d had enough. “You can’t just tell me you’ll be gone. Explain to me, talk with me. This is crap running off without a word and expecting me to just accept it.” 

That made him look up. He stopped what he doing and dropped the clothes in his hands to turn and stare intently at her.  

“You’re right. If you’re going to contribute to the cause, you should know.” He sank back onto the bed. He made no motion for Lena to join him, and she didn’t.  “There’s business in Egypt that needs to be finalised. I have to meet with our brothers there to negotiate and bring back the supplies. It’s mostly weapons and ammo. And I’ll be travelling through the tunnels under the border.”

“When will you be leaving?”

A quick glance down at his watch. “Now. Is that all you want to know?”  He zipped up the backpack and stood, swinging it over one shoulder in a single movement.

She didn’t respond. Haider nudged past her to leave the room.

He pulled open the door and stepped through it. “Oh, and also, I’ll have people checking up on you.”

She hesitated until the click of the closed door before she moved, crossing to the window in the living room and releasing it from the catch. The slow sunrise distorted her vision, and through various shades of yellow she discerned the figure of Haider leave the door and pull up his collar. The warmth of the sun washed her arms and she paused, despite the itching she felt to get out. She had goosebumps that trailed up her spine. Her whole body on edge with the unfamiliar sensation of liberty.

It could be a trick, of course. A test of her loyalty to the struggle. Haider himself could be waiting around the corner for her to slip up.

But she had to risk it. She might not have this chance again for months, years. She had done nothing to merit such distrust. They had been married for months now and had had no contact with anyone outside of Haider’s circle. Haider thought she had lost the fight.

Her heart was racing, like it was emphasising how many precious seconds she was wasting by hovering at the window sill, but she had to make sure that Haider was out of sight before moving. Finally she could take it no more, and pulled the window shut.

She supposed that the first thing to do would be to gather her things. But what things? All her make-up, gone. All her old clothes, gone. All her books, gone. The only things she owned now were the dull dresses and veils, and a pair of faded jeans she wore underneath.  Speaking of which, she couldn’t very well make her escape on a bike with her flapping skirts. She tugged at the heavy skirt, ripping it when it got caught. The veil was pulled over her head – leaving her in jeans and a t-shirt. She kicked away the clothes and looked around the apartment.

She wasn’t taking any possessions then. But cash – she needed something to live on. Lena scurried over to the countertop and fished out the jar. She was all set to empty it, when her hand stilled. She couldn’t do it. She wanted to break away completely and not have to rely on him to do so.

That was it then – she was taking nothing. Unsure, she walked to the door.

“I never liked this shitty place anyway.” She smiled humourlessly and left. At the entrance to the building, she pulled her hair out of a ponytail and let it fall around her face. Before leaving, she glanced out into the street in case there was anyone waiting for her. The place was empty.

She took a deep breath as she closed the main door behind her for what she hoped was the last time. Out in the open, she felt exposed and hurried down the steps and across the street. Looking around her the whole time, Lena found her little bike a little weather-beaten tied up and unlocked it.

It had been years since she had rode and at first there were a few wobbles but she was soon flying through the streets. There was no-one around. It was eerie. It was all the time in the world and no time at all before she got there.

Lena sprinted to the front door and found it bolted. She began to bang on the knocker, quietly at first then more and more frantically.

“Awra! Awra open up! Please!” The knocks echoed and echoed until there were hundreds.

“She’s not here!” An angry little women stuck her head out of a neighbouring window and shook a clenched fist at Lena. “Shut up! And beat it before I get my sons on you.” Lena took a step back and tried to spy through the covered windows, but all was dark and it seemed abandoned. She continued to step backwards, intimidated by the shaking fist and tripped into the bike. She swung one leg over.

She cycled through the busying streets, with no direction or plan. She only knew that stopping was to admit defeat, and defeat was unacceptable. She didn’t even realise where she was headed until the buildings thinned out a little and the countryside opened out in front of her.

It was just ridiculous enough to have a chance. That ruined house would likely be the last place that Haider was look for her. It would give her time to think, at least.

Her parents were out of the question. They couldn’t leave their home, their city. And if they didn’t, they would have to confront Haider. Awra was different. Awra could run with her. She started to pedal down the stretching road that she knew lead to the house in no-man’s-land.

Driven on by the fear of living in the same suspended state, the same emptiness she had lived in for months, Lena kept pedalling. The city shrunk behind her, if Lena had cared to turn around. The building still wasn’t in sight as the sun reached the highest point of the sky, and boiled away on the back of Lena’s neck, but she kept going. Her legs burned but she refused to stop. Just when she was beginning to doubt the existence of the house, a speck appeared on the horizon.

The road became dirt which jolted her around and was thrown up onto her legs, but it was all just a sign of how close she was.

It took her over three times as long as the car journey, but she reached it. There wasn’t a soul around. Lena lowered the bike and swung off. She walked over to the wall and trailed her fingers around to the slightly ajar door. She looked into the darkened hall but didn’t enter. The bodies were gone, but the feeling of death was still as pronounced.

All of a sudden Lena felt very exposed standing out in the open. Ill at ease and very unsure of what she was doing, she tried to take in her surroundings. It seemed surreal to have just one house out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing else for miles. Whose house was it anyway? Was the original owner Palestinian trying to get away from the city, or an Israeli trying to start another settlement?

Lena moved away from the wall and skirted around the debris, until she reached a dip in the ground. This might be where she had found him, but then again it might not be. There were no defining features that made it any different.

Tiredness washed over Lena and she sank down to sit on the edge. The reality of her situation hit her hard – she was in the middle of nowhere trying to escape from her militant husband and Awra, the only person in the world who she thought could help her was gone. A fat tear plopped onto the ground below before she could stop it. Another soon followed and Lena couldn’t stop the flood gates from opening for a minute.

She spilled her worries out but even in the midst of hysteria she knew what she had to do. She wiped away the tears and tried to calm down.

She was going to have to return to the apartment, pretend that this had never happened, and live day by day. Shakily she stood and tripped back to the house, and froze. A pair of crutches were propped up against the wall.