To Believe: A Man’s Quest to Understand Reality

by M I A Harba

  Lunch was a celebration. All were chatty, joyous, and looking forward to going home. He could see it in their eyes and facial expressions. Many, of course, had families in Rawa and were very keen to see them.

  Sam, on the other hand, looked gloomy and uncomfortable. He did his best to join the joyous mood of rest and pretended a smile now and then, so as not to sour the mood of the crowd. The odd labourer would come to him and ask why not he went with them. The campsite was in the middle of nowhere, and there were no people for hundreds of kilometres. Nobody even knew where this place was, its only access was by GPS.

  Sam answered he wanted to test his endurance and solitude before the house was finished. Then, he would be alone here for months on end. It was a training time for him, a dry run, he said with a smile on his face.

  The time of their departure approached, and all washed up, put on a change of clothes, and got ready to climb into the lorry. The last one to embark on was the foreman, Mo. He came over to Sam to whisper a few last reminders. For example, if it got rainy over the next few days, be sure the tarp properly covered the cement bags.

  He also asked him to be extra careful although there were no people around. Predators in the form of wild dogs or wolves might be encouraged by the absence of people. In order not to scare Sam unnecessarily, he emphasised there was no sign of them in the last month. He only mentioned it to be extra careful.

  Sam had an ample supply of drinking water, and the storage water tank was almost full. He should be OK with water for a long time. Wolves and wild dogs, which usually stayed away from the camp when it was busy, could be encouraged to investigate when empty, to scavenge the odd meal left behind.

  Sam stood up as the lorry started to move, to bid farewell to his companions. Everyone shouted back their goodbyes and wishes. He remained standing for a few minutes, watching the lorry driving away, getting smaller and smaller and disappearing behind a sandy outcrop a short distance away. He was then the only human in that area, and the nearest person or people were at least 100 kilometres away. They hadn't seen anybody, human or animal, in the last four weeks, besides the snake and the scorpions.

  Of course, he had a handgun and that made him feel a little more secure. He also had the pickup on standby, with a full tank, ready to take him back to Rawa in emergencies. Further, he had a satellite phone he could use at these times. He had the camp’s GPS coordinates on the ready in case he needed to convey them over the phone, to whoever was likely to come for his rescue.

  He felt safe, therefore, and there was nothing to worry about. He had food and water to last him for weeks. And it was only one week, not a year, so he should be able to hold on. But deep within, he was still uncertain whether he made the right decision to stay here or to go to Rawa and perhaps Baghdad, to visit his family.

  For the rest of the afternoon, he sat on a chair watching the vast terrain around him. It was a cloudy day, and the wind started to pick up a little, not a storm but perhaps a strong breeze. He brought out a book about the universe and busied his mind, reading. He reminded himself this was the reason why he was out here.

  The book he was reading was ‘The Universe Solved,’ by Jim Elvidge, an American author. The author is a strong supporter of the Simulation Hypothesis. Elvidge is a software engineer, and, in his book, he is looking at the universe from a programming point of view.

  Sam had read this book twice before, and he was reading it for the third time. Every time he read it afresh, he found new aspects he hadn’t paid attention to before. It was one of the few books he cherished, a lot.

  Dusk came too quickly, but the horizon was not clear due to the sand and dirt stirred up by the breeze. The sun appeared a little shy as it descended towards the horizon. Its colour became pale red in a gesture of unhappiness. Was it unhappiness because of the dirt and sand that filled the atmosphere? or was it unhappiness because Sam was alone? Sam, of course, didn’t believe the latter.

  Soon, night fell, and he was still sitting outside. The LED lights that operated off the solar panels’ batteries, came on automatically as they did every night when dinner was served. He remained outside for a little while, under the spotlight of the LED lights, and had his dinner there. Dinner was what Zak had left for him, a rice dish with okra stew that he loved. He had them both on a single plate, with a piece of bread to go with it.

  He had no radio, no TV, and, of course, no Internet. His only entertainment, if one could call it entertainment these days, was the few books he brought along. Reading at night was not particularly easy, even under the spotlight of the LEDs. He retrieved a paraffin lantern from the store tent and switched off the LEDs to save battery charge. He took the lantern inside his tent when he retired to bed.

  Inside his tent, the last words of the foreman came to mind. What if wild dogs or wolves came to investigate? The tent offered no protection whatsoever. They could tear it apart with their claws if they sensed a potential meal inside. No, it was not safe to sleep in the tent, at least not where the tent was.

  It was best to move the tent inside the semi-finished walls of the house. He could pitch the tent inside and sleep there. He could barricade the unfinished main door’s opening with whatever he could find in the camp. Hopefully, the windows’ openings were too high for four-legged animals to climb to. This plan felt safer than staying in the open.

  He found some timber the labourers used in the building works and used as many as he could find to barricade the door. He knew the barricade could not offer serious protection, but, at least, it could provide an early warning for him to use his gun. He would scare these animals away with his gun if they came close, but not kill them. He couldn’t bring himself to causing unnecessary harm to animals, even the wild ones.

  This plant also provided better protection against snakes and scorpions likely to be in the area outside. They did find at least one snake and many scorpions over the last few weeks.

  With all that in mind, he pitched the tent inside the semi-finished walls, on a spot flat enough to provide a comfortable sleep. He left one lantern outside the tent and made sure it wasn't too bright and was well hidden.

  For the first time, the need for safety and protection gained importance. In the city, one only needs to lock the doors, and they are safe. Here, one had to be extra careful and to think of everything for survival. And survival it was, as he was far away from the outside world.

  He thought he could sleep early that evening, being so tired, but worrying about his safety kept him awake. While he was with others in the camp, he went to sleep almost immediately. There was no worry about threats. But tonight, he was listening to all the noises and sounds, to the wind, to the creeks of the wooden planks in his barricade, or any sound made within the walls or without. He felt tense, anticipating potential danger any minute.

  The wind had become a little stronger, which did not help. It was whipping up sand and dirt that collided with the labourers ‘tents that were still erected outside. Its collision with the walls and his wooden barricade had made the sound even worse. It was a horrifying experience.

  He was frightened, with a kind of fear he'd never experienced before. It was amazing, he thought, how different it was when one was with people, and when one was alone. Bing alone somehow magnifies the fear. He knew there were no people around for hundreds of kilometres, yet he imagined people lurking out there, waiting to pounce on him.

  All the storeys of ghosts that he heard when he was a child came to mind. All these scary characters were there, hiding in the dark. But why didn't these storeys come to him when he was amongst the company of others? Why did they come to him when he was alone? There was something peculiar about loneliness. Being alone does seem to affect the psyche of humans. They are not built for it.

  Or was it because ghosts and the paranormal became encouraged at night when they stumble upon a human, alone? Science denies the existence of the paranormal or any ghost associated with it. The discussions with Salam about the Simulation Hypot
hesis, however, definitely supported the concept of ghosts and the paranormal. So, yes, they exist.

  Why would ghosts endeavour to come out here, in the middle of the desert? They usually haunt houses in the city. Isn't that what they do, haunt people where people live? How could they know of him living by himself in the middle of nowhere, to come to haunt him? Certainly, it didn't make sense, and his fear was baseless. There were no ghosts out here.

  He kept repeating this phrase time and again, to convince himself of this seemingly foolish fear and visions. But unfortunately, this did not register in his mind. He still believed they were out there, real or imagined, and they kept him awake, unable to sleep.

  The wind did not help either. The creaky sound made by his barricade scared him to the bones. At times, it sounded like somebody knocking on the barricade, or even calling his name, asking him to come out. He was convinced those scary characters were knocking on the barricade to keep him awake. The sound of sand and dirt hitting the walls and the barricade made a swishing noise that made his skin crawl.

  There was also the feeling of, maybe, wolves out there, too. He could swear he heard their howls nearby. Yet, there were no such howls over the last month. Was it because he wasn't paying attention to it before? but now, he was? His mind was totally confused. Reality and imagination got intertwined, and he couldn't tell which was which.

  He never slept that night. He might have had a few spells of sleep now and then but became fully awake with every noise his unconscious mind had registered. He kept tossing and turning in his sleeping bag, and his mind was getting exhausted with the amplified noises of the unknown.

  It wasn't until early morning, when dawn broke, that he managed to get some sleep. He was amazed at how daylight made all the difference. All the scary visions that came during the night had disappeared altogether when it became daylight. He could ignore all the noises, and his mind interpreted them as of no significance.

  The wind had died down, and there was no swishing noise anymore. He slept until around noon when he got up and went outside after removing the barricade. He went straight over to the water tank for a wash. The large water tank stood on concrete bricks on the north side of the building, a giant belly, painted dark grey. A tap, fixed on its front side, allowed the labourers to fill up for washing or cement mixing. With water out of the tap and a bar of soap, he cleansed the disturbed sleep of last night from his eyes and face.

  At the store tent, he brewed coffee using bottled water and made a sandwich of cheese and jam. It was his favourite although some say salty cheese and sweet jam don't go together. He didn’t care, it was his favourite, and that’s it.

  He sat on a chair, and the sunshine was warm and perhaps a little too hot. He sipped his coffee and ate his sandwiches as he watched the open sandy plain around him. He had all this space for him, and him only. He owned it. He could do whatever he wanted within kilometres of his house, and nobody would bother him or tell him it belonged to them. The sense of loneliness and fear of last night had disappeared and were now replaced by boredom. What was he going to do, to spend the rest of the day?

  He realised that although he had been here for the last four weeks, he hadn’t surveyed the area around the house. The desert looked barren, but no one knew what was hidden in its belly. They don't know what was in it, apart from it being away from anywhere. How about if he went for a drive in the pickup to investigate? It was a thought made on the spur of the moment, to break the boredom he felt. Further, it was good for the pickup, as its battery needs charging. It had been sitting there for so many weeks, and the battery could be out of charge. A little drive would help charge it again. He didn't want to discover it couldn’t start the pickup when he needed it in an emergency.

  He hurried back to his tent and fetched the keys for the pickup. He could drive around unrestrained because he knew he could drive back helped by the pickup’s GPS. It was what the supply lorry driver used to find the building on his way from Rawa. GPS is one of mans’ greatest inventions. GPS receivers can operate anywhere in the world, as GPS satellites provide almost full global coverage.

  He started the pickup and set off driving in no particular direction, snaking between the little sand mounds and outcrops that scarred the open terrain ahead of him. He spent an hour and a half driving aimlessly until he spotted a different kind of terrain. It was a dark patch, different in colour from its surroundings. His curiosity got over him, so he stopped and disembarked.

  The ground was covered with pebble stones, gravel and other objects strewn all over the place. Upon closer inspection, he found small pieces of what looked like the remnants of clay jars. He picked a few but couldn't tell how old they were or the likely previous owners. There were many of them around.

  He looked carefully all over the place to see if there was something else that could shed light on their previous owners. Could it be some passing camel caravan that left them behind? Or could they belong to the ancient civilization of Iraq? Some say this desert part of Iraq was, a few thousand years ago, a savannah with all kinds of plants and animals. Freshwater lakes stretched over large areas, and they were rife with fish and sea creatures. Habitations used to exist everywhere in this area. Could this be one of them?

  He spent half an hour in the area but couldn't find more of these pieces of clay ornaments. He took them and placed them in the glove compartment of the pickup. Maybe he could consult with some of his friends later, to shed light on their origin and age.

  He continued to drive, not in any particular direction as he did a little earlier. He looked at the pickup’s odometer and saw he had done around 21 kilometres since he started. Since he'd been snaking between sand mounds and outcrops, he couldn't tell how far he was from the campsite.

  It started getting a little late in the afternoon, and the wind started picking up. It was time to head back home.

  He drove, directed by the GPS, and there was nothing to identify over the Horizon. He realised that without his GPS, he couldn't possibly find his way back to his camp.

  He kept driving, swerving left or right, to avoid rocky outcrops and dunes. The going was smooth, the engine sounded comfortable, and the pickup sailed through unbothered.

  Then it happened.

  Carelessly, he drove through a soft sand patch, and the wheels got entrenched. The pickup had four-wheel drive, but he'd been driving on two so far. So he engaged the four-wheel drive, put the gear in first and pressed on the accelerator. The pickup attempted to move forward, but he could feel all four wheels were spinning. He stopped immediately, for he knew that with wheels spinning, the pickup would dig itself deeper in the sand.

  He got out of the pickup to inspect the sandy area and see what happened. Indeed, it was an area of soft sand, as his shoes sunk to his heels once he stepped on it. He looked around for anything he could put under the wheels, to get some traction, but that sandy area extended everywhere around him. It wasn't quicksand as such, but soft sand the wheels could not get traction on. He wanted to know the shortest way, out of the soft sand, to somewhere firm he could drive to, once managed to dislodge the pickup from that soft spot.

  The nearest what looked like a firm patch of land was around 30 metres away. He walked towards it and indeed, it was sturdy.

  Once out of the soft sand, he would need to find another way back home and must be more careful this time.

  He looked around for anything to place under the wheels, but there was nothing but gravel and pebble stones. He knew these were of no use, as they would sink in the sand right away. He went back to the pickup and searched for anything inside, like a cloth he can put under the tyres, plastic sheets, or anything. There was only one piece of cloth in the glove compartment that he used for cleaning the windows and the windscreen. But that piece was too small.

  He realised he didn't have anything to shovel the sand from around the wheels. He could then gently drive back and forth a few times, rocking the pickup out of the trench. He cursed himself
for not bringing a spade with him. There were so many at the camp and were worth their weight in gold in his current predicament.

  Could he walk to the camp to bring a spade? He looked outwards towards the horizon. He knew he was driving in the direction of the camp, following the GPS directions. However, he couldn't see any feature resembling a camp in the wide expanse ahead of him. He climbed on top of the pickup and looked from this elevated position. There was no sign of a camp.

  He could walk in the direction indicated by the pickups’ GPS screen, but he wasn't sure he could keep the direction with no compass or a portable GPS device. It was possible to walk past the campsite, within a kilometre from it, without realising it was there, as it was getting dark. He could end up in the middle of nowhere, not knowing where he was or where the pickup was, to return to. So walking was not an option, as it was a very risky proposition.

  He regretted immensely he didn't have with him one of these portable GPS devices. If he had one, he could walk directed to the device. The only GPS he had was the pickup’s GPS, but it was part of the car’s dashboard that he couldn't dislodge.

  Panic started to set in; he was in a serious situation. He realised he didn't have the satellite phone with him, so there was no way of contacting the outside world for help. The light started fading, and soon it would be total darkness. Where was he going to sleep? He didn't have a tent, a sleeping bag, or even warm clothes, apart from the jacket he was wearing. Indeed, it was a very careless adventure, without proper planning. He kicked himself for this utmost stupidity, going on this adventure unprepared. Sleeping in a pickup, in the middle of nowhere, would make him vulnerable to any predators or thieves. They could come straight to him, directed by the white pickup that could perhaps be seen from miles.

  The glass windows and the windscreen offered no protection against the claws of determined wolves or wild dogs. How stupid he was? But regrets were futile in his position, and he should endeavour to survive that night.