The Red Line

by R M Reef

  "Cross the line? While the battles are going on? Are you suicidal?"

  "Hey friend, I'll be killed for sure if I go back home," Tamer answered darkly.

  XVIII.

  “Mona! Thank God you’re home!” Kamil strode into the living room in a completely disheveled state. Mona, absorbed in the news on the T.V. about what was happening on the Christian side, didn't notice at first.

  "Oh my God! What happened to you?" She exclaimed when she finally looked at him.

  She left her seat and was in his arms in two seconds. He hugged her hard, gave her a deep kiss, and sat down beside her on the sofa. A huge wave of fear and impending doom overwhelmed Mona. She had never seen Kamil in this state except for once: when Toufic got killed.

  "What happened?" She asked again. In her heart, she was frightened to hear the answer. "It's Tamer, isn't it?"

  "Yes. He had a huge meltdown today. He flew out of control and tried to kill me."

  "But he looked great at breakfast with Nora this morning. Kill you? That’s impossible! I’ll never believe that. How could he go to such extremes? It never happened before."

  "Well dear, it happened for real this morning. And if it wasn't for my secretary, who started to scream, I would be dead right now."

  "Oh my God. Oh my God! Where is he now? Is he back at the hospital? I thought that he’d completely recovered and we were done with these crises. Oh! He was doing so well."

  "I'm sorry, Mona. My guys tried to catch him, but he ran toward the front lines. They couldn't cross that crazy jungle out there without getting into a fight with the militia. They heard some shots fired, and they exchanged mortars, but there’s no news of Tamer. I know one of the leaders over there. We can’t reach him by phone, as you know, so I sent one of my guys to give him a message. We'll hear from him sooner or later. Please Mona, get a hold of yourself. I'm too exhausted myself to handle a breakdown of yours!"

  Mona didn't answer. She shut her eyes, covered her ears with her hands, and bent in two, her head touching her knees. She felt her heart breaking into small pieces, and a huge ball of tears was stuck in her throat, constricting her breathing. She knew Kamil too well, so well that she was certain he would not spare her son's life even if she begged him for it. She should have sent Tamer and Nora away a long time ago; she should have bought them tickets, put them on a plane, and let them go away forever. Their presence had made her so happy that—like an idiot—she’d pushed the sad reality away and had lived like the young couple, in a dream.

  Mona felt herself being pulled back into a sitting position. Kamil was looking at her angrily. "What's your problem, Mona? Didn't you hear that I almost got killed? You have yet to see the marks he left on my neck, or don't you even care anymore? Is everything about Tamer now? Wake up to reality. He's always been mentally ill. In the past, after his father got killed, he used to attack you. Have you forgotten everything already? Tamer, Nora. Tamer, Nora. You were starting to become delusional. I left Elham for you. After Toufic's death, I could have given you some money and let you go. But no, I gave you everything I thought you deserved in this life. Is this your way of thanking me, after all these years?"

  "Oh Kamil! I was just in shock, that's all," said Mona, coming back to reality. How could she let her feelings overcome her in front of Kamil? She was really losing her mind. She took a deep breath and caressed his face and neck. "Oh Kamil, I'm so sorry about all this. He's still my son, but you’re my love, and this whole situation rips my heart in two. I know he's crazy. I'm so sorry again for what he did to you. But you are my life. I don't exist without you." Mona closed her eyes; she felt like she might throw up at any moment. Just looking Kamil in the eye gave her the feeling that her son was already dead. Every cell in her body was screaming in frustration and pain.

  Nora entered the living room at this moment. She looked pale and depressed. "Is Tamer here? He didn't come to our usual meeting place outside the hospital. I have some bad news to tell him."

  "We have bad news for you, Nora," cried Mona, still in Kamil's embrace. “Tamer had one of his crises today. He tried to kill his uncle, and then he disappeared. I can't, I can't think about it…" With tears covering her face, she ran to her bedroom, leaving Nora and Kamil facing each other.

  "Crisis? What crisis?" Nora couldn't stand up anymore; she found herself a seat across from Kamil.

  "One of his usual ones, Doctor. Or did you forget that he was your patient?" Kamil asked sarcastically.

  "I clearly remember that he was there for addiction and nothing else. What kind of crisis?" Nora asked, dreading the answer. She already knew her mistake. She had never wanted to know what was wrong with Tamer then. Now she had to face it.

  "Addiction to getting insanely angry, if that’s the way you want to think of it," said Kamil derisively. “He’s been sick since he was sixteen. That was when he started fighting with the militia and killed his dad by mistake. He has his on and off times. You surely understand, Doctor? Or did you have no idea what he was really like?"

  "No idea! Azoomy refused to give any details about Tamer or release any private documents explaining what happened to him."

  "Azoomy is a great friend. He helped out a lot in the past. But he can't do anything this time. Tamer tried to kill me before he ran away and disappeared at the front lines. I already sent people to catch him. So you see, your lover is in big trouble. I advise you to go home, Nora. This is too big for you to handle."

  Nora didn't answer. It was like all the bad news was being dumped on her head all at once. Had she lived a dream with Tamer? Had she been that far away from the harsh reality that was clawing at her with a vengeance this time?

  Kamil must have been telling the truth about Tamer. She already knew in her heart that there was more in the files about him than she wanted to acknowledge. She just wanted to live her love fully without thinking about the consequences; she wanted to live in denial of everything and everybody around her.

  "You can't kick me out, Kamil. I have to see Tamer first and talk to him. If something really happened, I want to hear it out of his mouth."

  "I can't kick you out! Who do you think you are, you filthy Christian!? Just look at the way you sleep with my nephew—shameless, immoral—and you dare talk to me this way. This house, this building, each piece of furniture belongs to me! Your crazy Tamer is legally incompetent! He doesn’t own a cent. He lives on the allowance I send him! Did you think he was rich? Was that why you stuck around? He has nothing. You are nothing. Just pack your belongings and leave." Following his angry tirade, Kamil left the room, looking for Mona.

  Nora, left to herself, sat there completely stunned by the degree of hatred surrounding her. She felt numb all over. She had worked like a robot the whole day, waiting for the moment when she could be with Tamer again and cry on his shoulder. She knew in her heart that he would have stood by her and would have even come with her to confront her mom. She was even thinking about going away with him to Cyprus to get a civil marriage, which didn’t exist in Lebanon, to quiet all the talk about them. Now here she was, facing the storm all by herself. Strangely, she didn't feel like crying or screaming or even yelling at God. She felt nothing, nothing at all. She stood up, left the room, and packed her clothes. Without seeing either Mona or Kamil, she left the house where she had spent the best days of her life, never to return.

  XIX.

  “What’s your name again?” The bearded man from the Christian militia asked. Oddly, he was a friend of Mohsen, the one who had patched Tamer up on the other side. For years the two used to shoot at each other and at innocents crossing the street. They built their friendship over years of fighting, over the dead bodies of their comrades, and over the ruins of Beirut, the dead city. This guy's name was Pierre, and a huge, golden cross hung suspended from his neck.

  "Tamer Monzem, but I want to change my whole identity. And then I would like to leave the country."

  "How much are you ready to pay?"

  "I'm ready to fight
. I know how to do it. I'm not afraid to die. But if I make it, I want to leave the country." They stood there with their eyes locked for a while, sizing each other up.

  "Okay, you'll join our troop. There are two huge battles going on right now against the Christian army. One is two streets down from here. You'll just come with me. But first, you need to change your name. You can be Tony instead of Tamer. Huh, Tony Moutran. A good Christian name."

  With that, Pierre left him. He came back carrying clothes similar to the ones he was wearing, some firearms, and a huge wooden cross which he put around Tamer's neck.

  "This will protect you from harm. That is what we believe, and it’s what we used to fight for before we Christians fought each other. I have a brother and two cousins in the army I'm fighting against, and my mother is dying of worry and frustration. But I'll never leave my troop, even if I have to pay for it with my brother's blood. Well, let's go.”

  Tamer followed him silently. After a week, his wound was feeling much better. He had left the area to the west of the line the day after he got shot. He’d spent the remainder of the week in an emergency bunker just across the street from the first one, but this time he was surrounded by enemies: the Christians from the east side. Both sides were used to constantly exchanging wounded, supplies, and news in addition to the dirty jokes and the insults they would scream at each other every day.

  In these clothes, Tamer knew he looked exactly like the Christians. He had let his beard grow during the past week; his hair was shaggy, and his attitude was as cynical and detached as his companions’. If he had to die for a cause that wasn't his and die on the same side as people he considered his worst enemies, so be it! He would fight one last time before leaving this country for good. The only heartache would be that he’d have to leave Nora behind.

  The west side of Beirut was starting to recover; buildings were getting fixed, and streets were starting to grow crowded again with honking cars, pedestrians, and sidewalk cafés. The east side of Beirut was still a war zone, though; its buildings were destroyed, its streets empty, and its men armed. The contrast was shocking even for Tamer, who had thought himself immune to the sight of destruction and desolation created by bombs.

  In the early morning, after another sleepless night, people furtively got out of the bunkers where they were spending the nights with their families and neighbors. The shopkeepers only opened their doors halfway, ready close them fast at the first sound of bombs. Women holding their kids’ hands hurried across the street to get whatever food they could find at the grocery stores, non-perishables that would last a week without refrigeration. Some teenagers had to carry empty gallon jugs and bottles a long way before they found drinking water.

  During this reprieve in the early morning, the men went out to check out the damage from the night’s bombings. They would usually find that someone’s car had gotten destroyed, or they’d find that one of their apartments was hit by a bomb. Neighbors helped each other to salvage whatever they could from the rubble.

  Then news would travel by word of mouth; it was mostly about who had won the overnight battles, who had gotten killed, and who had been wounded. Even if the listeners knew the victims, there were no unnecessary exclamations or cries. Just these questions would slip out: "Where will the funerals be? Which church? When?"

  Tamer followed Pierre through these streets until they arrived at a military base, an old public school sandwiched between two buildings. He met a bunch of guys there who started calling him Tony. Then he and many others climbed into a truck heading for the heart of the battlefield, which was some blocks away. He and two of his comrades ran and hid behind one of the buildings which the army hadn’t taken yet. There, with one last thought of Nora and their lost love, he opened fire with a sour taste in his mouth.

  XX.

  “I’ll be staying here for a while.” Back in her room, Nora had to confront Rheem again. It was almost night by the time she left Tamer’s house, so she couldn’t cross the line and go see her mom. Her only choice was to return to the hospital. She had to find someone ready enough to take the risk and go with her tomorrow. At the moment, heading for the east side of Beirut was considered suicidal. The bombing was continuous, and the fights weren’t just all over the streets, but everywhere.

  "Hey Nora, I told you I'm sorry about what happened."

  "Oh please, Rheem. Let's not talk, okay?"

  The atmosphere between them was tense, but Nora didn't care. She was hardly aware of her surroundings. In her mind, she kept reviewing the events that had just taken place like she was stuck in a never-ending nightmare. She felt like she was under anesthesia, completely numb. The pain was so deep that—like a third degree burn—no feeling remained anymore. ‘Check on my mom. Look for Tamer.’ These two thoughts kept coming back into her mind.

  The next morning, she asked for a meeting with her chief of service. Dr. Fahmi was an Egyptian and a very well-known academic. He had been teaching at the American university for more than twenty years; the ugliness of the war didn't drive him away. He considered Nora one of his brightest and most studious students. He had heard rumors about her lately, rumors which had ruined her reputation. He’d heard reports that she wasn’t living at the dorm but was hanging out and sleeping with an unknown man who might even be married. The talk about her was vicious; it had thrown her in the trash in the minds of her peers, especially the guys'. He felt sorry for her. This morning, she was looking pale and very upset.

  "What's up, Nora?"

  "I would like to take some time off, Doctor. I'm not feeling well."

  "Are you sick? You don't look well at all."

  "I’ve had some issues to deal with recently, and I'm very worried about my mother. I haven’t heard from her for two weeks now, and with the bombings going on, it’s impossible to call and check on her. I would like to try to cross the line tomorrow and stay there with her for a little while."

  "Going by yourself would be crazy. I know someone who could help you at the front lines, but after that you'd be on your own."

  "That’s fine with me. Thank you, Dr. Fahmi."

  "I would like to see you when you return, Nora, to discuss your future. You still have two more years with us, isn't that right? Hey, don't look so worried. I just want to talk about finding you a fellowship outside the country, that is, if you're interested."

  Nora left Dr. Fahmi with a feeling of relief. She would leave tomorrow with his help, and she could even rely on him for help with her professional future. Early the next morning, almost at dawn, she and a big, burly man and headed for the east side of the city. For once, she wasn't afraid of getting shot or dying. She just didn't care anymore.

  When they started running from street to street and hiding behind buildings, she thought about Tamer. ‘Where are you now Tamer? I need you so much. Just show up by some miracle. Just show up now in front of me and end this nightmare!’

  The man sent by Dr. Fahmi left her at the edge of the east side of Beirut. From this point on, she was on her own. She picked her way through the rubble carefully, trying to get to the street where she usually left her car. She didn’t meet anyone, but the sound of mortars and gunshots told her she wasn’t too far from the battles. Her car was still in the same spot where she had left it almost four weeks ago, thank God!

  Nora climbed inside carefully and started to drive, not knowing where to go at first. She knew her home had been blasted right down to the ground, so the logical conclusion was to head for her aunt's house, which was on the other side of the city. It was in the suburbs, though, which was where the army was fighting the militia. Going there was therefore out of the question. Her only real option was to go check on her neighbors and see the damage to her home for herself. Maybe someone had saved something, a reminder of her dad, a picture from her childhood. Maybe, if she was lucky, her mom would be visiting or salvaging there.

  The sight of her street was distressing; bombs had hit or burned many buildings. The one where she li
ved was in the worst shape. Nothing remained of their apartment building except blackened walls and rubble strewn everywhere. She stopped the car and started to cry. With her head on the steering wheel, she could hear herself crying louder and louder, crying for her dad, her mom, her home, her lost childhood, and then for Tamer, her lost love.

  Someone knocked on the car window; it was her neighbor, Marie. She had been knocking for a while, trying to get Nora's attention. "Nora, Nora, is that you? Open the door!"

  Marie had lost one of her eyes the day Nora's dad died. They were hit by the same mortar, but Marie survived. Nora looked up and recognized her. She opened the door and threw herself into Marie’s arms. They hugged and cried until there were no tears left in Nora.

  "Hey, hey, calm down. Is your mom around?" Nora could hardly talk. Her face felt numb, and her eyes were all puffy.

  "No, no, I didn't see her yet. I came directly from the hospital to check on my home. It’s impossible to get into my aunt's neighborhood. There's a battle going on there."

  "What's happening now is a tragedy. Come over to my place for a cup of coffee and we'll talk.” Marie’s apartment was right down the street. It was located on the ground floor. She took Nora into the kitchen; all the windows there were covered by huge sandbags, the floor was covered with mattresses, and pillows and blankets were everywhere. There was a huge pile of bags of clothes just beside the door leading to the dining room. It looked like most of the neighbors were using Marie's house as a bunker to hide in, away from the bombs. The power was out, so Marie lit a candle and started making coffee on the gas burner.

  Nora sat on a chair and looked around. A wave of memories overwhelmed her. She had grown up in this kitchen. She was maybe a toddler when she first started hiding under the table and playing with the pans. Her mom used to come every morning for a soubhiyeh, a kind of morning coffee break. She’d come every afternoon for the same break, but this one was longer, and most of the time her dad and Marie’s husband were present, smoking the hookah and playing backgammon. It was too bad! Both men had died, and now Marie, who’d never had children, was left all alone facing this huge storm that was the war. Each day she was left wondering if she would survive till tomorrow or get killed by a bomb.