by Lee Kerr
The entire American contingent nods in unison, giving the impression that they have already foreseen this and planned for every possible eventuality. General Martha is the one who sits forward, looking at me. ‘The offer made to you by us today is simply a nominal fee. What you really get is protection from what is out there and what is yet to come. Lend us the oil and we will sign a pact to come to your aid whenever it is needed. You know that we must work together to survive.’
Hamza laughs. ‘We would be better keeping our oil where it is and spending it on our own military. Why should we see it disappear across the ocean when we have our own issues to deal with?’
Abdul suddenly stands up, and General Hamza quickly follows his lead. ‘Our general is right: we need the oil for our own uses. Whatever the new world looks like, we will need it to trade with whoever is left, which may or may not be you. At this moment in time none of us have the answers, so I believe this concludes our negotiations.’
‘You are making a big mistake,’ General Martha says. She is still sitting, but this doesn’t make her seem any less dominant. ‘You will need allies and if you won’t provide what we need then perhaps we will have to go to one of your neighbours.’
‘Do you think we are a stupid people?’ Abdul says, pointing a finger at the general. ‘We are fully aware of what is happening out there and nothing has happened to us. You are scared because you know you are next. The western world is finally meeting its maker and you think that fuelling your military machine will save you, but it will not.’
‘We must secure our place in this new world,’ Jessica says, looking only at me.
I try to answer but I am too confused. I hear what she is saying but I think that everyone here takes different meanings from her words. I desperately try to think of how I can find safety in this frantic new world that she is describing. I look over at the ambassador and Abdul; I see that they are arguing but I can’t hear any of the words.
Absently, I sense Hamza pulling at my arm. He is still shouting and is trying to get me to stand up. I cannot move and only stare at Jessica, taking in all of her beauty. She is so entirely unique. I look at what I want, what I have always wanted and I find it staring back at me. It’s too much to ignore, too big to turn away.
‘Take me with you,’ I blurt out, loud enough for everyone to hear, although only one person notices.
She frowns and leans back, clearly confused.
I lean forward, desperate for her to listen, for her to see that I need a reason to continue ‘You can have the oil for the price you are offering, as long as you promise to protect my people and take me with you. I need full residency, forever. You know that I will never be able to return here.’
She stares at me for a moment, her mind clearly evaluating my proposal. It sounds simple to me, and the only possible answer is yes, but nonetheless she seems to carefully consider every aspect of what I have suggested.
‘We have a deal,’ she says, quietly, smiling only at me.
I breathe properly for what seems like the first time in days, feeling the rush of escape. My new life is finally on the horizon, and I start to think through what I need to take with me and how little time I will have to gather my things. I decide I will take nothing, wanting to make a quick departure, and as I think this, I look around and see that everyone else is still distracted. Hamza is shouting into his radio whilst Abdul is still arguing with the ambassador. I really start to believe that I can pull this off: a prince walking freely out of the palace with those American marines positioned either side of me.
‘We have a deal,’ she says again, this time louder, as if she is announcing to the world that I have finally done something of significance with my life. She quickly turns to the general, and starts whispering into her ear whilst pointing to me. The general looks at me and nods back, clearly confirming that my passage is guaranteed – that I have got what I have always dreamed of, in return for all my people’s oil and their pointless prince. I already know which one they will miss the most.
‘What do you mean: “we have a deal?”’ Abdul shouts, his angry face appearing before me like a viper waiting to strike. His eyes look into mine and they express only one emotion – betrayal.
‘Your father is returning!’ Hamza shouts. ‘He will deal with this mess!’
‘There is no deal!’ Abdul shouts. ‘You will all leave now.’
‘Guards!’ Hamza shouts.
Neither of them takes their eyes off me, their anger directed only my way, which I realise is their biggest mistake. They have never realised my needs, never appreciated that I am different and that my desire to be unique would always eventually lead us to this point. The day my brother died we all knew that my father had now lost both his sons but although everyone mourned, no one asked about me. They never saw me for what I am, let alone accepted that things would have to be different. As I see our palace guards flood into the room I also see that our American visitors have not sat quietly: they have whispered and planned, and their minds now seem to work as one tight unit.
‘Get out!’ Hamza shouts. ‘You will leave with nothing!’
‘We have a deal,’ the ambassador says. ‘We have conducted negotiations with your prince, the most senior person in your palace, and we have agreed terms.’
‘Come with us, Prince Jalal,’ General Martha says, an arm outstretched.
I don’t move, still frozen by shock at what she has called me. A click of her fingers tells me not to think twice and so I nod and move towards my new master, feeling more of a sense of belonging from that one simple gesture than I have from the past decades of existence in an unwelcoming world.
‘There is no deal!’ Hamza shouts again, spitting anger and hatred over all of us.
‘You are not in a position to decline an offer that has been made,’ Nevin says, still so calm and assured. ‘You have agreed a sale and we have formally accepted.’
‘I will do more than decline your offer,’ Hamza shouts, as he pulls the gun from his holster and fires several shots into Nevins. Hamza’s creased face and rotten teeth seem to fire the bullets themselves, and he screams in anger as the deafening sound of the gun echoes throughout the room. This one action pushes us all into an entirely new place. Blood splatters everywhere as his body falls backwards over the chair and crashes onto the floor.
I fall downwards, pushed by the American hulk who then pulls out her own pistol. She fires bullets into Hamza like they have been mortal enemies since the dawn of time, and I hear metal tear through his thin combat shirt and into his flesh.
‘Kill them! Kill them all!’ Abdul shouts, as he falls to the floor in front of me.
I look around; my eyes are the only senses that still work. My ears are ringing and my nose is filling with smoke. I see our many palace guards pulling rifles and firing as they run towards the marines. What I see in return is pure preparation, as the marines throw grenades and tear gas, followed by red dots trailing ahead of their steady aim, giving them all the opportunity they need to select their target and fire. So few are ranged against so many, but there is no anger, no shouting – simply precision.
I keep my head down, feeling as if I’m in a war zone of my own creation. Abdul looks at me and shakes his head; to him, all of this is my fault. He reaches for Hamza and feels his comrade’s throat to see that he is truly dead. I look around, trying to catch sight of the ambassador, as Abdul grabs a gun and shoots the American general, taking clear revenge for the death of his oldest friend. I cannot look, cannot dare to see my new protectors fall one by one. Somewhere inside I can hear myself begging for my new life not to end here.
When he has finished firing he turns to me, summoning all those decades of contempt. ‘Your father will blame you for this and we will both face certain death. In these last few hours you just remember that it is you who has ruined everything.’
I want to answer him, to tell him that I am not going to be blamed for today or any other day, but as I start to shout
he doesn’t say anything, just staring at me. He looks ready to speak, ready to scream at me, but instead he just smiles, a trickle of blood flowing out of his mouth. I look around and then back at him; I’m so conditioned by his constant chastisements that I still expect some kind of response from him. I hear the thud of his gun hit the floor, and see both of his hands fall to his stomach as his shirt turns red.
He goes limp, and instinctively I grab him, cradling him in my arms. He tries to speak, desperately clawing at my face with a blood-stained hand, but he doesn’t have the energy to sustain the movement, and it just brushes against me. I tell him to calm down, that I will get help; that I still somehow care about him. I turn to see what has happened and where the bullet came from, and I immediately see that General is still standing, still very much alive.
‘Mission lost. The Palace is going into lockdown. Confirm this is a no deal. Blow the lot,’ she shouts into her radio as she looks at me, her face expressing nothing – no hatred, no disappointment – nothing I can use. One of her men is wrapping a bandage around her arm as another starts to escort Jessica away. She looks down at me for a moment, her face not moving, as I see that she is willing to only offer me what I think is a look of genuine pity.
‘Please take me with you,’ I shout, still holding Abdul in my arms, hoping that that she will hear my plea over the noise of firing guns and shouting men, and that she will honour our hasty deal.
She shakes her head but says nothing as the group moves away, stepping slowly towards the door. She doesn’t know of my dreams, of America and now her. She cannot know of my desperation but she must be able to see it.
Abdul suddenly grabs me, blood still trickling from his mouth. I look down at him; his body is still entwined with mine. He tries to mouth something, his weak hand only able to lightly smack my face. I shake my head, telling him that I have no time for him now; he’s my past and I’m fast losing my future. He jolts forward, his body wrestling with mine like a baby trying to escape the embrace of a parent. He coughs and his blood stains my clothes.
‘Don’t say anything,’ I say, knowing there is nothing that can undo what has been done.
He shakes his head, pulling himself up just a little, his breathing erratic and fading. ‘You have always disappointed me.’
I drop his body to the floor, screaming at him, screaming at everything I have been made to become. I watch his body jolt and shake a little more, his mouth still moving, still trying to tell me what a terrible person I really am. I watch for a moment, until that mouth stops telling me things I don’t want to hear and those disapproving eyes no longer move.
I look up to see that my future is almost gone. ‘No, wait!’ I shout, but get nothing back. Instead of an answer a deafening sound comes from afar and the palace shakes like an earthquake has hit us without any warning.
I get up and a few more guards run into the room, but quickly fall to the might of the marines who are walking backwards, pointing their rifles at anything that moves. These silent, red dots immediately remind me of my limited worth, my lost opportunity and the time I have borrowed. I run toward them, and their attention turns to me, their guns ready to do to me what my father will inevitably do later. I think about my options: do I prefer being killed efficiently like this or several prolonged beatings before the eventual mercy of a firing squad.
‘Stay where you are,’ two Marines shout together.
‘The deal!’ I shout. ‘We have a deal!’
‘The deal is off. Stay where you are or we will fire.’
I stay still and look down at the two red marks still positioned on my body, each competing with the other to find the centre of my chest. I’m struck by the fact that the only ones now interested in me are the soldiers, the experts in war, who were not even in the room when I bought my short-lived freedom.
Once they disappear around the corner I look out the window and see the helicopters blades roaring into life as they prepare to leave me. I don’t know what to do; I am still as trapped as I always have been, and my world has changed so drastically, yet I still face a future that is no different from what it was before. I wait for a moment, hoping that Jessica will come back, running into my arms and pulling me with her to the safety of her distant home far across the ocean.
She doesn’t appear and nothing happens, and just as my chapter in this story seems to be ending, I suddenly hear Abdul’s voice. I turn to see him standing back up and shouting at me.
‘You have done this! You have caused all of this!’ he screams, in between gulps of blood that spill out of his mouth and splatter onto the floor. ‘You have betrayed your mother’s faith in you and failed your father, and now you have destroyed your country!’
I cannot hear anymore and I run at him, screaming with hatred that has grown over many years, from of all that I have been told and all that has been denied. By the time I reach him he is lying flat and unmoving, but it doesn’t stop me from hitting him. I smack him across his cheek, catching his nose for good measure, thinking only of those decades of torment, sending blood and bone splattering across the marble floor. I hit him again and again, not stopping to think what I’m doing. I lift his body up and smash my head into his; my clear payment for his absolute abandonment of the boy he was supposed to protect.
When I finally stop I can no longer recognise the face of my eternal tormentor, and I know that he won’t ever move again. I take one final look at him, at the twisted corpse that will take a new place in my nightmares, and once I can no longer face him I turn and run. I run past the bodies of people I know, and through smoke-filled corridors filled with screaming men and expanding pools of blood.
Once I get outside I finally understand what I have caused. In the distance there is nothing but fire and fumes, funnelling their way deep into the clouds. Our world burns with flames so big I am sure you can see them from space. I was told to make them beg for the oil, told never to sell and not to lend, but now these oil fields are ablaze for as far as my eyes can see; worthless in the eyes of everyone who matters.
I look around for someone to help, for some way out of this, but all I can see is my father’s convoy heading towards the palace, a trail of dust following them as they speed along the long road. It’s enough for me to realise that I have only one choice – one final chance – and so I run towards the helicopters, towards my only possible source of freedom. As I fight my way through the grounds I think only of the world I have wanted to be in for so long, now so close and yet still so far. I look up to see more palace guards above me on the roof, aiming a rocket launcher at the helicopter.
‘Don’t shoot!’ I shout, but they either don’t hear or don’t want to listen to little me.
Before they can fire anything a splatter of bullets from one of the other helicopters sprays across the roof, and I realise that its friends never left it. The two airborne gunships are still flying around like bees protecting a nest, killing anything that moves.
I keep running, praying that if I’m hit now that the bullets kill me. My eyes are focused only on my only escape out of here, which is about to take off. I think how likely my death is now and how unlikely it has become that I will find a way out, and it’s enough to make me pick up a rifle, hoping my father will somehow believe I am still loyal, so obviously one of the brave few who fought off our attackers.
As I reach my ticket to freedom I see the door is still open and I wonder if they are waiting for me. I soon realise the reason for their delay is the general, as I see her shirt ripped open and some sort of drip being hooked into her veins. I keep shouting and look around the helicopter. I finally see Jessica’s slender frame hiding in the corner, a white ghost who will now forever appear in my dreams and my nightmares. I stop shouting and stare, hoping that someone will notice my silence.
She sees me as she talks on her phone. She keeps talking but looks at me with this gaze that my frantic mind interprets as flirting; she seems to be enticing me to come closer. The marines have their g
uns pointed my way again but it doesn’t stop me. I drop my weapon and grab hold of the door.
‘Please, take me with you. We have a deal,’ I plead.
She puts the phone down and leans forward, pushing the marines out of the way, her face near to mine and her sweet breath close enough to taste. ‘But you have nothing to offer us.’
I think for a second, desperately trying to find an answer that will help, willing to offer her anything. All around us the skyline burns, a red blaze that seems to come up from the sand like it has travelled from the depths of hell pull everyone under and make them pay for my mistakes. ‘You know that if I stay I will die. I made a deal and you blew up our oil.’
Those eyes look at me but don’t show a fraction of the passion I want to see. ‘It was never your deal to make,’ she says and smiles. ‘You played a game and you lost, and we cannot afford any passengers where we are going.’
I shake my head, refusing to listen to her, although I already know that what she is saying is true. ‘Please, I want to go to America.’
‘You shouldn’t beg,’ she says, and then leans back.
It’s a cue for the marines to push me away; my grip weakens and only my desperate pleas remain. I fall to the floor, my back hitting the dusty ground that I have had to call home for all my life.
The helicopter finally takes off, still flanked by its smaller, deadlier friends. The sound is deafening. A dust cloud surrounds me and I lie back to see the belly of the beast as the helicopter leaves, its blades spinning faster until I’m forced to close my eyes.
I wait for the storm to pass before I open my eyes again and stand up, now without any cause or options. I see that my only chance to escape the darkness of this place is departing towards the distant, golden sun, leaving me behind with only my fading and ultimately borrowed time.
All that is so obviously hidden
Wednesday 17th August - Thailand