Shoot Me, I'm Already Dead

by Julia Navarro

  They took a while to get to Ahmed’s house. The night was silent when they finally made out a stone house between some trees. It didn’t look very large, and the approach was through a courtyard that smelled of flowers.

  Ahmed showed him where he could sleep and Dina gave him some cheese and a fistful of figs, which Samuel accepted gratefully. He had not eaten for several hours.

  He was asleep when Mohammed came to find him.

  “My father wants you to come into the house, my brother is worse.”

  Forcing his sleepiness from himself, Samuel followed Mohammed into the house, where Dina was crying with Ismail in her arms.

  Samuel asked them to put the baby down on the bed and to put a cushion under his head so that he could breathe more easily. Then he asked in his rudimentary Arabic if they had given him the medicines. She said yes, and showed him the bottles that Abraham had given her. Samuel asked them to boil some water, to bring a little flour for him to mix with the other herbs, and to make a poultice for the child’s chest.

  Ahmed was silent, as was his oldest child, Mohammed, who saw the worry spread over his father’s face.

  They spent the rest of the night keeping watch over little Ismail, who coughed every now and then, each effort accompanied by a little blood. He did not fall asleep until the early hours of daylight.

  “His fever has gone down, but only a little,” Samuel explained to Ahmed, “although he will sleep well now. You and your wife should sleep a little. I’ll stay up with the child.”

  Dina didn’t want to leave her child, but insisted that Ahmed rest a little before going to work. Aya and Mohammed had already fallen asleep.

  Ahmed fell to the ground by Ismail’s bed and had barely closed his eyes before he fell into a deep sleep.

  Samuel stayed awake alongside Dina, watching the child sleep. She seemed pleased that he was by her side. The old Jewish doctor had told her that this man was a chemist, almost a pharmacist, and she was pleased that he knew how to help Ismail’s cough. Allah had been merciful to have this man’s path cross her own.

  Dina blamed herself for not having noticed that Ismail was suffering from the fever that affected him from time to time. Her son’s cough had not seemed different than it had been on previous occasions, and that was why she had decided to accompany her husband to Jaffa. Also, she had not wanted to disappoint Mohammed. For him, the trip to Jaffa with his father was a great party, and he would have been extremely disappointed not to have been able to go. Aya did not care, she was only five years old and did not care what she did as long as it did not take her away from her mother.

  She was worried about Ahmed. She could sense that something was wrong. Her husband had come back unhappy from his meeting with Ali, Saïd Ibrahim’s envoy. The night before he had scarcely taken part in the conversation with her cousin’s husband’s guests. He had even gone to bed before it was polite to. She knew that he was awake when she came to bed, but she didn’t want to annoy him with too many questions. Ahmed was a good and caring husband, but he didn’t like it when Dina asked him questions he did not want to answer. She had learned to wait, she knew that her husband brooded over problems before raising them with her, and when he did so it was because he already had the answer. She had to wait for him to decide when the time was ripe to trust in her, which he always did.

  Samuel slowly drank the tea she had prepared for him. She saw that he looked tired, and she smiled at him, to thank him for being there, at the head of the bed, keeping an eye on Ismail’s breathing. From time to time he put a wet cloth on the child’s forehead, which seemed to help with his fever.

  After a while, Dina woke Ahmed. It was time for him to go to the quarry. She was proud that the Aban family trusted him enough to make him a foreman. Her husband was a fair man, always ready to work harder than anyone else to set an example. He was the first to get to the quarry and the last to leave. His men appreciated him and also the fact that he granted no favors to his brothers-in-law.

  Dina brought him a basin of water. Ahmed washed his face and hands before drinking a cup of tea, then he went over to Samuel and made him a sign of thanks. Then he went to a corner of the room with Dina.

  “This man must go, you can’t stay here alone with a stranger.”

  Dina begged him to let Samuel stay with Ismail.

  “You mustn’t worry about me, Mohammed will not leave my side. Anyway, I can send for my mother to chaperone me. She’s had nothing to do since my father died, and she doesn’t get on well with my brother’s wife. She always likes coming to see me, if we send Mohammed for her she will be here before you leave.”

  Zaida, Dina’s mother, lived nearby with her oldest son, Hassan, and his wife. The two houses were barely a few hundred meters apart, although Hassan owned his house. His son had worked all hours of the day, first as assistant to an old Jerusalem trader who taught him all he knew and who trusted him so much that he sent him on his business to Beirut and even Constantinople. The money he earned allowed him to marry Layla, the daughter of another merchant, and to buy a house and a good plot of land in Jerusalem.

  Ahmed was doubtful, he knew it was not a good idea to leave his wife with a stranger.

  Dina accepted her husband’s decision in silence. If Ahmed decided that Samuel could not stay then she couldn’t blame him. She knew that it was a daring decision on her part to ask for it. But she wasn’t thinking of herself, or of what the neighbors might think, but only of her son. This man appeared to know what to do for her son’s fever. She was terrified about what might happen, especially in Ahmed’s absence.

  Her husband read the anguish in her gaze, so he woke up Mohammed and told him to go to his grandmother’s house and bring her back immediately. He wouldn’t go to work until Zaida arrived, even though that meant arriving late at the quarry on the very day when Ali, the saïd’s envoy, might arrive at any time. But the honor of his house was placed above all other considerations, so he waited until he saw Mohammed arriving, accompanied by his grandmother.

  After they had exchanged a polite greeting, Ahmed told his mother-in-law not to stray from Dina’s side. Zaida promised not to leave her daughter’s house, and even said that she would stay for as long as it took, in order to help Dina look after Ismail. It was a relief for her to leave her daughter-in-law, a woman who was very lazy. But she was her oldest son’s wife, and she had to accept the situation, even if she would have preferred to live with Dina. Sometimes she was tempted to ask her daughter and her son-in-law to let her live with them, but she was afraid of upsetting her firstborn, so she kept her peace. Now Ismail’s fever allowed her the excuse she needed to leave the oppressive environment she lived in. Her son Hassan loved and respected her, but he was in love with Layla, a very beautiful woman, and could see no further than her eyes, so Zaida said nothing, and looked after her house and her grandchildren Salah and Jaled, two splendid boys. Zaida asked herself whether she would be able to put up with her daughter-in-law once her grandchildren had grown into men and made their own houses.

  Ahmed left uneasily for the quarry, he did not want to leave a stranger in his house but he knew that with Zaida there he was at least obeying the rules of decorum.

  Ahmed didn’t get home until late afternoon, worried about what might have happened. A few meters away from his front door he saw Aya playing with some other girls in the street.

  Mohammed was waiting for him at the threshold, and his face lit up when he saw his father.

  “I haven’t left Mother’s side,” he said as a greeting.

  Ahmed smiled and ruffled his hair. Mohammed was turning into a splendid boy and made him proud to be a father. He would do whatever it took to send him to Cairo or Constantinople to be a doctor.

  Samuel was sitting next to Ismail’s bed and Dina, with Zaida’s help, was preparing dinner.

  The two women told him that Samuel had not left the child’s side
for a moment, and that the boy had not gotten better, but was not any worse either.

  Ahmed thanked him and invited him to dine with them. Samuel accepted. In fact he did not know where to go or what to do.

  Dina asked her husband if Zaida could stay a few days until Ismail was a little better.

  “You could talk to Hassan . . . It is a great relief for me to have my mother with me. She can look after the house and after Aya, and she knows how to calm Ismail. If my brother agrees, and if you don’t have anything against it . . .”

  How could he refuse? He liked Zaida and knew that the presence of his mother-in-law would be a relief for his wife.

  “I’ll go and see your brother tomorrow, I’ll try to convince him to let your mother stay with us for good.”

  “I didn’t dare ask so much! But Hassan won’t want it, his wife is lazy and it’s good for her to have my mother around to do all the chores that she doesn’t want to.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Ahmed said, drawing a line under the conversation.

  While the two men ate, Zaida looked after the children.

  “Dina needs to sleep, if the boy gets worse I’ll wake you up.”

  Although Dina did not want to leave her son, Ahmed convinced her to get some rest.

  “Your mother is right. You have to be strong, Abraham told us that the child will suffer, that we don’t know how long Allah will allow him to remain with us, but that he will need your care come what may. Rest tonight and let your mother look after him. I’ll stay up with him for a while as well.”

  The Jew looked on in silence. He seemed worried about Ismail’s fate.

  “You have worked all day, I think you need to rest as well, and your mother-in-law has made huge efforts to help your wife. If you will let me spend the night here, I will look after your son,” Samuel suggested.

  Ahmed weighed the Jew’s words. He did not know if he could trust him, although he had behaved well up until this moment, so he accepted the offer.

  “Alright, you can stay one more night, and you, with all your chemistry skills, will know what to do to help my son with his pain, but I will sleep on the floor by his bed and you will wake me up if you see him getting worse.”

  And that was how it was done. Ahmed fell asleep at once, although the cold night woke him up after a couple of hours. He saw that the Jew was giving a spoonful of syrup to Ismail and he was shocked at how pale his son was. How could they have been so blind as not to see how ill he was? They should not have taken him to Jaffa and he blamed himself, as if it were his fault that his son had gotten worse. Samuel seemed to read his mind.

  “Don’t blame yourself. Tuberculosis is tricky. There are days when the patient seems to be better, then falls ill again. You can’t beat it, you can only fight against it. The important thing is that Ismail isn’t suffering; the medicine is helping him with that.”

  Ahmed could no longer sleep and made a sign to the young man that he wanted to take his place by the bed. Samuel stretched himself out on the floor and fell asleep at once.

  Dina had slowly come close to Ismail’s bed, unable to relax. Ahmed was unable to make her go back to bed.

  In the morning the child could barely open his eyes because of his fever. Ahmed sent Mohammed to the quarry to tell them that he would be late. He had to take Ismail to the Jewish doctor. He would insist that he do something for his son. He could not accept that Ismail had to die, especially not through choking himself to death.

  Luckily, Zaida was with them and could take care of the house and his daughter Aya. Mohammed would also have to go to his uncle’s house to tell them that his grandmother would stay with them at least for a few more days. Ahmed would find the time to speak to his brother-in-law. For the moment, the most important thing was Ismail, for all that a shudder ran down his spine every time he thought that Ali could send for him at any moment to tell him that he had sold the quarry and their land: What would become of them then? He had not yet told Dina about his conversation with Ali. He should do so, but not while his son was so ill.

  Samuel insisted on accompanying them. Ahmed made no objection and decided en route that he would talk to Abraham Yonah and make him take charge of this young man so that he would not continue staying in their house. There was no reason for him to do so. He had been more than generous in taking the stranger under his roof for two nights, but now it was time for him to make his own way.

  When they got to Abraham’s house, Rachel, his wife, opened the door and invited them in.

  “My husband is out with a patient, but he will be back soon.”

  And so it came to pass. The old Jewish doctor came back after a few minutes and took charge of Ismail, giving him a careful examination and asking Samuel for his opinion of the child’s condition. When he had finished his examination, his face was serious.

  “I am sorry, Ahmed, there is not much that I can do. Your son’s life is in God’s hands; here on earth we men have neither the knowledge nor the wisdom to save him. All we can do is try to relieve his pain.”

  Dina burst into tears. She wanted to hear other words from Abraham, even wanted him to lie to her, anything but the destruction of her hope. How could he say that their son was going to die? Why did things have to be like this? What had Ismail done to receive a death sentence? He would go to paradise, of course, but did he have to go so young? She could not understand Allah’s design, and, had she had dared, she would have cried out against him for taking her beloved son away from her without any cause.

  The Jewish doctor gave the anxious parents more medicine for their son, but he took his leave without a word of hope for them; he asked Samuel to wait in another room.

  As they were about to leave Abraham’s house, Ahmed thought he heard a familiar voice. Some men appeared to be arguing in another room and that voice . . . Was it Ali’s? Ahmed said to himself that this was impossible. What could Ali be doing in the Jewish doctor’s house unless he were looking for some remedy for an illness? But Ali did not look ill, so Ahmed must be mistaken.

  He said goodbye to Abraham. The doctor asked his permission to come visit Ismail.

  “Come when you wish, you will always be welcome,” Ahmed said without too much enthusiasm.

  After leaving Dina and Ismail at home, he hurried to the quarry as fast as he could. He spent the rest of the day there, terrified that the news would come that Ismail’s state had worsened. He also thought it was strange that Ali did not come to the quarry, but his brothers-in-law assured him that no one had asked for him.

  The sun was sinking below the horizon when Ahmed returned home, worried about Ismail. There were a number of people standing in front of his house. He quickened his pace, and no sooner had he crossed the cultivated land that opened onto his garden than he heard Dina and Mohammed speaking with Samuel and some unknown men. Three rough-looking men, dressed in patched clothes, were standing next to a blonde woman who had a child about the same age as Mohammed with her.

  Ahmed hurried until he was standing beside Dina.

  “Father . . .” Mohammed’s voice held suppressed rage.

  “What’s going on?” he said, to no one in particular.

  “Saïd Ali came with these men very early in the afternoon. He has sold our land, our house, our little patch of ground,” Dina explained, on the edge of tears.

  “Let me explain . . .” Samuel had stepped forward and stood in front of Ahmed, who now looked at him with rage.

  “So, you have taken my house . . .”

  “No, that’s not it. Look, this morning the doctor made me step into another room where there were some other men alongside an Egyptian merchant named Ali. Apparently, Ali had found out that some Jewish travelers were interested in buying land to settle here. I don’t know how he came to Abraham Yonah’s house, but the doctor presented him to these men, who have come from Vilnius. Ali explained that his mast
er wanted to get rid of some of his land that was no longer useful, and mentioned your little farm and its surrounding land. Abraham Yonah was opposed to this idea, he said that you were a good man, with a family to support, and that Saïd Aban would not put you out on the street. Ali said that his master had charged him with selling this land, if not to these people then to others. Abraham did all he could to get him to sell some other tracts of land, but Ali did not want to listen. Then I . . . Well, I don’t have very much money, but I said I would try to buy the land so that you would not be thrown out of your home, but I did not have enough. In the end we came to an agreement, that I would join forces with these men to buy the land. I imposed one condition, that they let you keep farming your land, and let you keep your house. We will live and work on the uncultivated land over there.”

  “Saïd Ali said that he had already told you about Saïd Aban’s intentions and that he would go to the quarry tomorrow . . . ,” Dina added, unable to hide the reproach in her voice.

  Ahmed held out his hand and Samuel handed over the title deed. He scarcely glanced at it, then handed it back.

  “So now my house is yours, my farm is yours. What do you want with it?”

  “Nothing, Ahmed, I promise that neither I nor these men will do anything to cause you trouble. You know that some Jews are setting up little farms in Palestine. That’s what we will do here, always respecting your lands.”

  “How much must I pay to live in my house?”

  “Please don’t see us as enemies, Ahmed . . .”

  “I don’t have anywhere to put you up, you’ll have to sleep outdoors, unless you throw us out of our house.”

  “You know I don’t want to do that. Please, trust me! You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me, but I promise you I mean you no harm.”

  Ahmed did not reply. He went into his house, followed by Dina and Mohammed. They did not shut the door, neither did they invite anyone to enter. Ismail was crying in his grandmother Zaida’s arms, and Aya was sitting quietly by the hearth.