8. You Were Warned
"What do you mean it's been stopped?"
"I'm not sure, Julie. They're not allowing anything into Gaza at the moment. There are so many trucks and aide that has been stopped at the borders."
"Oh my God, that's terrible!" I sighed heavily. "Keep me updated with it?"
"Of course," Mr Andrews replied. "Good blog post, by the way. The feedback is rolling in."
"Thank you, Sir. Talk to you soon."
"Goodbye. Stay safe."
I hung up and turned back to Amna and Ahmad.
"So bad news. My boss had organised extra food and medication to come and help you guys here, but it's been stopped at the border."
To my surprise, neither Ahmad nor Amna looked surprised.
"Of course. Why would they let something good in?"
"This place makes me angrier and angrier by the second!" I aimed a kick at rubble lying about but missed. I settled for stomping my foot instead.
Amna gave me a small smile. "They make me angry too, but you can't allow them to. Because then they win. You have to show them that they cannot make you unhappy, no matter what."
I shook my head. "You amaze me! How are you so positive after everything that has been done to you?"
"Like I say when I met you. I am alive, and I have family. That is all."
I gave her a side hug as we strolled along. It was a couple of days after my last blog post and we were walking around the neighbouring neighbourhoods. They were in just as bad a state as Amna's neighbourhood, with a lot more homeless people. There were little children running around and playing, some old men carrying rubble in their hands and shouting things in Arabic. Ahmad had wandered over to one the men and started talking to him.
"What are they saying?" I asked Amna.
She looked at the old men I was pointing to and squinted, listening carefully.
"Cement for sale. Buy this to build your new shelter," she translated.
My heart sank. I didn't even know what to say.
"We are not allowed to rebuild our houses, actually. We need a pass to do that, and it is always getting denied. We are not even allowed to buy new cement and bricks."
"Really?"
Amna nodded.
"That's awful."
"I know," she sighed.
I walked around and took a few pictures before going back to her. She had sat down on a cement block and was eyeing Ahmad with a small smile. He had moved on from the old men and was laughing around with a couple of children.
I sat down next to her. "So what's your deal with him? Is he your boyfriend?"
Amna's face went a little pink at my words. "Oh, no. He is not. Not really. We were to be married last year, but then the bomb hit our area and my grandparents died. They were taking care of me. So when they died, we didn't ever find their bodies and marriage was no longer on my mind. I was alone, and had to try to survive by myself..." She trailed off into silence, her gaze lost in the air.
I clasped her hands into mine and squeezed. "If you don't mind me asking, what-what happened to your parents?"
Amna was silent for so long, I thought maybe she was politely ignoring my question.
I opened my mouth to apologise but she started talking, "I was ten. The eldest of eight siblings. I had just put my three brothers to sleep and was walking to my sisters' room to put them to sleep. I had just tucked them in when our front door burst open. I gave my sisters a kiss on the cheek and told them I would be back just now. When I walked into the kitchen, my mother's limp body was slumped over my father's bleeding body. Two soldiers walked past me, and I thought they had left. But they did not. I heard four gunshots before I realised what had happened. I ran as fast as I could back to my sisters' room but I was too late. The soldiers were still in their room, so I ran to my brothers' room, because I knew that they would go there next. They were awake and crying. They did not know what was happening. Quickly, I helped them to hide under their beds. When the soldiers came into the room and didn't see the boys, they became angry. One of them shot my leg and my brothers started screaming. The soldiers found the boys. They didn't kill them. They dragged them away. That was the last time I saw them. Even though my leg was bleeding, I ran after them. I asked them to take me instead. I begged and begged. You know what they did? They laughed. Then, they walked out of my house. I was left alone. No mother, no father, no sisters or brothers." A lone tear ran down Amna's face.
I hastily wiped my own eyes before squeezing her hand again and leaning into her side.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. Nothing could describe what I was feeling. So I transferred all the love I could into the hand squeeze.
Amna was silent for a few more beats before saying, "Ahmad's family moved in a few years later. I was a small child, no one to look after me. They took me in, made sure I had food and that I was okay. A few years later, my grandparents found me, and they came to stay with me. Then last year, during the second intifada, a bomb hit our neighbourhood and my grandparents were killed. I think. I have not seen them since. Ahmad's parents were taken and we were left alone. We had to take care of ourselves. Things were looking desperate for a while. Zayn kept disappearing and we had no money to buy food. So I started mailing people and companies to try and get them to help. Then one day Zayn said he found a job but he won't tell us what it is. But it doesn't matter because we had a little money to buy food. Then you answered one of my emails and we got lucky because God sent you here. And maybe life will be a little bit better now."
She gave me a soft smile. "Be patient, believe, and God will reward you. That is what I believe."
"You are an inspiration. Truly."
With another smile, she hopped up and we joined Ahmad.
Dusk had fallen by the time we decided to go back home.
We were a couple of blocks away when Ahmad murmured softly, "Okay, don't look back now, but I think we are being followed."
"What?" I dropped my camera bag and furtively look back. I caught sight of a familiar man with black hair and blue eyes. "I know him!"
This time is was Amna and Ahmad who said, "What?"
I hurriedly picked my bag up and we continued walking. "It's this soldier. Adam or something. He's been at every checkpoint and border I've been to so far."
"Do you think he is tailing you?" Amna asked, looking back quickly. A fleeting look of shock covered her face.
"What? Why do you look like that?"
"What? Nothing, nothing." Amna straightened her face. "Let us go around this block and then through that house. If he follows us, then we know that they are tailing you, Julie."
With a nod, we did exactly that. When we got to Ahmad's street, Adon was nowhere in sight.
"Coincidence," Ahmad reasoned.
Somehow, I didn't think so.
*
"There is some leftover Maqluba. We can have that for dinner?" Amna suggested, rifling through the fridge.
Amna, Ahmad and I were sitting in the kitchen. I was on my laptop, rifling through the pictures I took today, Ahmad was on a chair behind me, looking at the pictures too, and Amna was digging in the fridge.
"Ooh, Maqluba. Haven't had that in some time," Zayn said, entering the kitchen.
"Zayn! Where have you been?" Ahmad said, standing up and briefly hugging his brother.
Zayn shrugged. "Around."
I glanced at him. Again, he looked as if he had hurriedly put on his clothing. There was a scratch on his face and his knuckles were slightly red. As he rubbed his nose, I caught sight of a familiar silver ring on his right thumb and frowned. Zayn caught me looking and, in a flash, he pocketed the ring.
"So what do you do, Zayn?" I asked, looking up at his face. "I hear you've found a job?"
"Oh, nothing. I sell some of the broken house pieces from around here," he answered quickly. "What did you guys do today?"
"Oh? How's that going?"
He glared at me. "Well enough."
I nodded. "That's good."
Something didn't add up. Surely if he spent the day selling pieces of cement, he'd come home at least a little bit dirty, right? And his clothes for sure wouldn't be so clean. Rumpled, maybe, but not clean. And I'm sure that the ring he was wearing was worn by Army members. But Zayn was Palestinian, right? Why would he be part of the Israeli army?
"What did you guys do today?" Zayn asked again, sitting down opposite me in the booth.
"Walked around town, talked to some of the locals," I replied.
"What are you guys doing tonight?" he asked.
I shrugged and Ahmad said, "Nothing planned. Did you want to do something?"
Zayn grunted moodily and stood up. "Nothing to do in this godforsaken land," he growled before walking right out of the house.
Ahmad frowned at his brother before apologising. "I'm so sorry. I do not know what is wrong with Zayn. He was never like this before."
"Agh, don't worry about it. Who can blame him?" I shrugged and continued rifling through pictures.
"Julie, wait." Ahmad leaned closer to the laptop screen. "Go back to the other picture."
I did as he asked.
"Look. Right, there." He pointed to a figure in the far corner of the picture.
I gasped. "No way."
"Go to other pictures," Ahmad urged.
I went to a couple of pictures I took yesterday and looked closely at them.
"There, again." I pointed to the side of the screen.
A couple of pictures later again, Ahmad pointed and said, "He is also there."
"What's going on?" Amna asked, sitting next to me in the booth.
"Adon," I said as I pointed to a picture I took of Amna and Ahmad yesterday.
There were soldiers everywhere, that wasn't different. This place was crawling with soldiers. But in almost each picture from yesterday and today there was a distinct soldier always a few metres away from us.
Amna sighed and murmured, "That's pretty picture."
I smiled. "It is."
It was of Ahmad and Amna walking side by side, the sun behind them. Ahmad had obviously said something funny because Amna's head was thrown back in a laugh. To the far left of them was Adon.
"Not important now, girls!" Ahmad said. "Julie, you are being tailed."
"So it seems." I heaved a sigh. "Why, though?"
"Did you not say that you got a warning the other day for your posts?"
"Hmm... you're right. I did."
"You can't be sure that it is him, but," Amna refuted. "The face is very blurry."
"Come on, Ams, look. See there is his black hair. And there, and there again."
Amna shook her head and walked over to the stove where she was heating the maqluba.
"Where is Zayn gone? Did he not want food?"
Ahmad sighed. "I do not know where he goes, or what he does. He worries me."
I bit my lip. Amna looked over at Ahmad sadly. I wasn't sure if I should say anything about my suspicions. Ahmad looked so tense. But, come on. If he'd joined the Israeli Army, don't you think his brother would know?
Before I could change my mind, I said, "So I know I may be stepping out of bounds here, but I noticed a couple of things about Zayn."
Ahmad's eyes immediately snapped to mine, a crease forming on his forehead. "What is it?"
"Okay so the first thing is that he says that sells rubble to people, right, so why are his clothes clean when he comes home? Why is he not more dirty?"
"I do not believe him when he says that is what he does," Amna said, sitting down opposite me in the booth.
"Mmm, neither do I," Ahmad agreed. "What is the other thing?"
"Well." I hesitated. What if I was wrong? What if I insulted him?
"Go on," Amna said encouragingly.
Ahmad glanced at me warily.
"Well, when I was coming here, I noticed something about the soldiers of the Israeli Army."
I glanced at Ahmad. He looked as if his worst fears were about to be confirmed.
"What is that?" Amna asked.
"They all wear these silver rings on their right thumbs. There is something engraved on it, but I didn't ever get close enough to read it. When I saw Zayn today, he was wearing a silver ring on his right thumb." I glanced at Ahmad. His eyes were closed. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything," I said quickly. "It could just be a normal ring."
Ahmad shook his head.
There was a beat of silence before Ahmad started talking softly, "Last year, my parents were taken hostage by the Israeli Army. My father was a poet, and his work spoke a lot about the unfair situation we are in. One of his poems became famous and he was banned from writing poetry. He didn't listen, so one night, three soldiers came and took him and my mother away. A few days later, the soldiers came back and they told Zayn and me that we have to join the Israeli Army. Either we join the army or our parents die. I would rather die before I join that army, so I said no. In my heart, I knew that my parents were already dead. How could they still be alive? Zayn believed that they were still alive, but he also said no to join the army. That is what I thought, of course. After that day, Zayn started disappearing every now and again. Every time there was a bombing, Zayn was not at home. Every time someone in our neighbourhood was taken away, Zayn was not home. I didn't want to believe that he would join them, so I didn't ever ask where Zayn went or what he did. I didn't think I could handle the truth. But now that you say that, I don't think I have a choice but to believe you."
Ahmad looked at me and gave me an empty smile. I returned it but I felt horrible. Even Amna was at a loss for words.
"What-What if you confronted him?" I asked.
Ahmad shook his head. "He made his decision. The less I know, the better."
"He's bitter. Life has taken so much from him. His parents, his home, his town. Maybe he just needs you to talk to him-"
"-Please, Julie. Do not justify what my brother has done. Joining that army is the most despicable thing a person can do. He is helping them oppress my people!"
"But what if he still believes your parents are alive. What if they are?
This time Amna spoke. "Julie. Please. There is a lot that has happened in this place, and we have been through the baddest of it. If there is one thing I know, it is that the Israeli Army has no mercy. They killed my family for fun! Why would they spare Ahmad's parents?"
I shrunk back into my seat. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "I just-I just want to understand why he did it."
"Me too," Ahmad muttered bitterly.
With a sigh, I turned my gaze back to my laptop. A notification bubble popped up in the corner.
Mr Andrews
Julie, what is going on with your blog? What are you doing?
I frowned. I wasn't doing anything.
I opened up my blog.
Anger quickly overtook the shock I felt. How dare they?
"What is wrong?" Amna asked, coming over to my side. "Oh dear."
All my blog posts were gone. In their place was a single post that read:
You were warned.
"How dare they!" I slammed my laptop shut and stood up. "That stupid Adon better be outside. I'm about to give him a piece of my mind."
"To be fair, I don't think he was resp-"
"-I don't care, Ahmad. He is part of them, and they had no right to delete my intellectual property."
I had barely taken two steps before a loud BOOM! echoed across the house and the floor shook. I lost my balance, knocked my head against the side of the table and blacked out.
***
A/N
A new chapter! What is your opinion on what's happening in Palestine?
As always, don't forget to vote, comment, and share! :)