The Pestilence

by Faisal Ansari

For the first time in days Mariam bothered logging onto her email account at the university. Her inbox was surprisingly full. The cursor blinked; over 400 unread messages. She normally only received a few dozen a day, this was different. Mariam didn’t open the messages, she didn’t need to; the subject line in each told her all she needed to know.

  The subject line of the first message; “How could you cheat?”

  The subject line of the second message; “Die bitch.”

  The subject line of the third message; “He’s too good for you.”

  The subject line of the fourth message; “Immoral whore.”

  The subject line of the fifth message; “You should be stoned.”

  It was a seething torrent of hate. The volume and intensity of the harassment was overwhelming. Mariam felt outnumbered, enveloped by the irrational hatred of hundreds of strangers. It was a direct attack on her identity.

  Mariam stared blankly at the vitriol in her inbox. Every few moments her computer automatically refreshed and more poison dripped in. Her emotions cycled through confusion, bemusement then finally seething anger. Mariam bit her lower lip and the brief stab of pain sparked her into action.

  Mariam scanned down the sender column but didn’t recognise any of the names and realised that her email address, though private, was too easy to deduce. It followed the university’s standard template; firstname.lastname@uofj.com. Her “out of office” reply confirmed her identity to her tormentors and she disabled it immediately.

  Mariam had decided to follow Bill’s advice and ignored anything to do with the story; the journalists now the emails, everything. Mariam offered up a prayer for a return to some semblance of normality and clicked the “select all” button to junk her entire inbox. She was about to press “ok” when one particular email caught her eye. It stood proudly above all others. The shock of seeing it hit her like a punch to the chest. This email sent all the other messages tumbling off screen. Mariam’s mouse pointer trembled as she hovered above the message. It was from Dr Fara addressed to Dr Mariam Fara. It was a message from her father.

  ***

  Timeline: The Pestilence minus 4 days. Information source: Email intercept between Dr Fara and Dr Mariam Fara.

  Subject: Hello dear

  Dear Mariam

  I have followed your life with interest since I left. You have grown and become a doctor like myself and a leading light in your profession. You are smart, independent and intelligent which brings me much pride and satisfaction.

  I am writing to apologise for leaving you. Life with your mother had become simply unbearable for me. When I saw that you would follow in her footsteps and become the same callous bitch of a woman I had no choice but to kill myself. I am a better man, free from the burdens of both of you. I have witnessed that your whoring ways are similar to hers. You both met fine men but were unable to keep your legs closed long enough to keep them.

  My sincere hope is that your man dumps you in the cruellest way possible to expose you to the world as the evil hole that you are.

  Please be kind enough to send my considerations to your bitch of a mother.

  Hope all is well with you otherwise.

  Keep in touch.

  All my love,

  Your loving father.

  ***

  MARIAM felt sickened to the pit of her stomach. She tore her eyes from the screen and looked once more at the dirt road lined with cars and news trucks. She took a deep breath in, fighting to control the raw anger surging through her. In through the nose filling her diaphragm then forcefully out through her mouth while squeezing her core. Her clear-thinking rational mind was working hard to compose itself, but her hands trembled with rage. The Canaan growled a warning to an approaching journalist. Mariam went back to the screen, clicked through to her contacts and found what she was looking for. She entered the email address in the address field and typed.

  Timeline: The Pestilence minus 4 days. Information source: Email intercept between Dr Mariam Fara and Hazel Sears.

  Subject FW: Hello dear

  Hi Hazel

  See attached email I just received. Some monster created an email account in my dead father’s name and sent me an absolutely beastly email. As much as I want to I just can’t let this lie. I need your help. I was hoping you would be kind enough to use your special talents to track him (only a man would think of something so evil) down for me.

  I want to pay this man a personal visit. I have a new pet guard dog that I am sure will want to make his acquaintance.

  Thanks Hazel.

  Mariam

  ***

  MARIAM selected all the abusive emails in her inbox. No way now she was just going to ignore them. No way now she was just going to stay silent. Fuck them, she thought, fuck them all.

  Timeline: The Pestilence minus 4 days. Information source: Email intercept between Dr Mariam Fara and multiple recipients.

  Subject RE:

  Your message was one of the hundreds of abusive messages I received. I found your words deeply hurtful and upsetting. You should look to yourself. Let him who is without sin amongst you, be the first to cast a stone upon her.

  Dr Mariam Fara

  ***

  MARIAM blocked the addresses of the people she just emailed. She had no desire to hear from any of them again. Next she sent her draft paper for peer review to her colleagues at the University of Jerusalem. She then went downstairs to help her mother prepare lunch.

  ***

  Timeline: The Pestilence minus 4 days. Information source: BBC World News live broadcast.

  Hugh Feades in the BBC World News studios in London: Jerusalem once again has become a focal point for global pilgrimage. Millions have been making the journey. All flights into the city are full, the buses and trains overflowing. Retracing the paths of ancient pilgrims people are now travelling in on foot, by cart and horse, their destination; the Teddy Stadium. They come in their hundreds of thousands not to watch football but to be touched and healed by Samuel Srour.

  The BBC has learnt that for the first time since the global Electrical Phenomenon, Mr Srour has left Jerusalem. We believe that he is currently en route to Haran, his home village. Haran is the location of the original camp of the Healed, who are working to rebuild Mr Srour’s shattered farm. The camp serves also as the centre of the Healed activity coordinating and resourcing other Healed led projects around the globe.

  Our Deputy Middle East correspondent Rayaan Khan is reporting live from Haran.

  Rayaan Khan: Thanks, Hugh. As you can see, I’m not at the Healed camp, which is a few kilometres outside Haran but within the village itself standing outside the home of Dr Mariam Fara. The Haran camp website which acts as an unofficial spokesperson for Mr Srour has stated that he would be leaving Jerusalem briefly today. Our sources indicate that Mr Srour may be coming not to visit the camp but to visit his long-time girlfriend Dr Mariam Fara.

  Following the release of the CCTV footage showing Dr Fara in a romantic clinch with a co-worker both Samuel Srour and Dr Fara have remained apart, Samuel Srour in Jerusalem and Dr Fara at her mother’s home here in Haran.

  Hugh Feades: Rayaan, do we know what Dr Fara is doing in Haran. I understand that she normally works at the University of Jerusalem.

  Rayaan Khan: She does Hugh. We believe that she travelled to Haran in the company of Dalia Srour, Samuel Srour’s mother, a few days before these allegations hit the tabloid press. According to the university, Dr Fara has been on paid study leave since the beginning of the month. We believe that she is co-authoring a research paper with her colleague and alleged lover Dr Shimon Biram.

  Hugh Feades: Has there been any comment from Dr Biram or the university?

  Rayaan Khan: No there hasn’t. However, according to the tabloid press I understand that Dr Biram has moved out of his family residence after what neighbours stated was a blazing row with his wife.

  Hugh Feades: Does Mr Srour have time for these personal issues? There are hundreds of thousan
ds of people waiting for him in Jerusalem, many travelling great distances in very ill health to be healed. Surely it’s disrespectful to those travelling for Mr Srour to leave the city. After all, he did encourage them to come to him.

  Rayaan Khan: The Healed website did state that Samuel Srour would be back in Jerusalem tomorrow. This has to be important enough to make him travel to Haran. Look, there’s a car approaching. I can’t make out who’s in the back of the vehicle, but the car is being driven by a tall blonde woman and a Mediterranean looking man.

  Hugh Feades: Those are Mr Srour’s bodyguards; we have seen them with him many times before.

  Rayaan Khan: Samuel Srour must be in the car with them. They are stopping outside the Fara residence. Yes, I see him. I see Samuel Srour. Samuel, Samuel, Rayaan Khan for the BBC, just a few questions: Why have you left Jerusalem? Why are you here?

  Hugh Feades: It doesn’t seem like he is speaking to the press today. How does he look Rayaan?

  Rayaan Khan: This is the first time I’ve seen him live and I must say he looked relaxed and smiling. Surprisingly normal. He is walking towards the residence now. The house is owned by Dr Fara’s family. Only Dr Fara and her mother now live there. Dr Fara’s father died during the war. You can see behind me that Samuel Srour’s impressive female bodyguard is taking up station at the gate while it looks like the man will go into the residence with Samuel. Samuel is knocking on the door; he has removed his sandals and left them on the porch. The door is opening, I can’t see by who but they have now gone inside.

  ***

  Chapter 13

  “WHY have you come? There are people who are dying, who are sick and need you back in Jerusalem. We agreed that the best way of healing the most people would be asking them to travel to you. Now you are here.” Mariam pushed her tongue into her cheek and shook her head. “Why?”

  “I had to talk to you.”

  “Couldn’t you wait until I got back? I was thinking of coming back to campus, I just sent the first draft of my paper for internal peer review. If you had called me you would have known that. This is a pointless trip, you are wasting time here.”

  Samuel shrugged. Stefano stood behind him looking at the floor, wishing he was anywhere but here. Mariam’s mother had wisely and swiftly made her excuses and abandoned the hallway.

  “I needed to speak to you about something,” Samuel said softly.

  “What? You had to talk right now, this very instant? Upping sticks and running across the border, how do you think that would look?” Stefano noticed that Mariam’s hands were fluttering as she spoke. She seemed jittery, tired even and her eyes lacked their usual inquisitive light.

  “Let’s go out, take some air. Perhaps take the dog for a walk?” There was soft steel in Samuel’s voice.

  “What about your fan club?” Mariam spat. Stefano didn’t know if Mariam was referring to Dressler and himself or the press massed outside. Either way he hoped Mariam wouldn’t want to go. A walk in the unprotected countryside was a bad idea. Samuel had insisted on leaving Jerusalem on a whim and there had been no time for any advance planning. Stefano felt very far away from the safety of the Teddy Stadium. With the press following Samuel intently his presence in Haran was widely reported. If the church was ready and waiting then the best time for them to strike would be now and there would be only him and Dressler standing in their way.

  Gently, Samuel stepped forward reaching for Mariam’s hand. He transgressed the almost visible barrier that had grown between them these past few days. “When was the last time you left the house?” he asked quietly.

  Mariam said nothing, staring past him. Her hand was limp in his.

  “A few days now, nearly a week,” called Mariam’s mother from somewhere in the house. “For God’s sake take her. She is wearing me down. Ruining her eyes staring all day at her computer. Go, go, I will have lunch ready when you get back.”

  Samuel laughed. “Thanks, Umm Mariam but I doubt we will be back until the evening.”

  Mariam huffed as she picked up her ruck-sack and slipped on her shoes. “It’s not been a week, only a couple of days. Goodness. I did have a paper to write.”

  ***

  Timeline: The Pestilence minus 4 days. Information source: BBC World News live broadcast.

  Hugh Feades in the BBC World News studios in London: Only a few minutes ago we reported that Mr Srour had left Jerusalem and swept into Haran for what looked like make or break conversations with his long-time girlfriend Dr Mariam Fara. We are now going back to our Deputy Middle East correspondent, Rayaan Khan, reporting live from Haran. Rayaan, do you have any more news for us?

  Rayaan Khan: Yes I do, Hugh. Moments ago Samuel Srour and Dr Fara left the Fara residence. They were together in the residence for less than ten minutes. They came past us with their dog and then trekked into the scrubland to the west of the village.

  Hugh Feades: How did they look together Rayaan, what was the body language like between them? Could you detect signs of any tension?

  Rayaan Khan: No, quite the opposite, Hugh. The body language was extremely positive, warm and loving. They were holding hands, leaning into each other and it looked like they shared a private joke as they passed. They looked simply like a couple deeply in love.

  Hugh Feades: Do you think this is a case of forgive and forget?

  Rayaan Khan: These past few days the media interest in Samuel Srour’s relationship with Dr Fara has been incessant, perhaps even a distraction to what Mr Srour is trying to achieve through his healing mission but we are not, of course, party to their intimate conversations.

  Hugh Feades: It can be levelled at Mr Srour that he is neglecting the sick and the dying just to see his girlfriend?

  Rayaan Khan: Hugh, I believe that this trip is a statement from Samuel Srour. He has been healing almost non-stop since the Electrical Phenomenon, thousands of people from all over the world but now everything has been put briefly on hold. Why? The answer, I think, was just demonstrated to us. Samuel Srour has travelled to be with Mariam Fara. He is making a statement to the watching world that Mariam Fara is just as, if not more, important to him as his healing mission in Jerusalem. He is telling the world a story Hugh, a story that says Samuel Srour and Mariam Fara are still together as a unit and as a team.

  Hugh Feades: Okay, very good. Where do you think they went, Rayaan?

  Rayaan Khan: I believe they went up into the hills surrounding Haran. They both grew up around here so there must be a myriad of places where they can walk and talk. The journalists and news crews here in Haran following the story are packing up to leave. There doesn’t seem to be much news in two lovers taking their dog for a walk.

  Hugh Feades: Yes Rayaan, thanks. Err, what kind of dog did they have?

  Rayaan Khan: A Canaan, it’s a native breed to the region.

  Hugh Feades: Okay, good, anything else Rayaan?

  Rayaan Khan: No. That’s all from me here.

  Hugh Feades: Okay then, over to Sindy with the weather.

  ***

  STEFANO and Dressler walked a respectful twenty metres or so behind Samuel and Mariam, who were deep in conversation. Out of sight of the cameras and the journalists they walked apart once more. They had cut through the scrub into the Western Hills. Haran lay behind them and to the right they could see the Healed camp. It was two or three times the size of the village. Stefano had reasonable visibility and the Canaan running off her leash would provide ample warning of any impending trouble. Stefano could run 100 metres in about fourteen seconds, so from a standing start he could close the twenty metre gap between him and Samuel in two point eight seconds. He knew Dressler would get there quicker.

  Stefano kept his voice low. “I’m telling you Dress, she was busting his balls from the second we got in there.” He checked to see that Samuel or Mariam hadn’t turned and mimed his ball-busting hammer action. “It was like she was slamming them in a car door. Bam, bam, bam; I had no clue what to do with myself, didn’t know where to look. It
took me back to Milano getting home late from a job and Mrs G standing in the doorway with a hammer.”

  A rare smile crept across Dressler’s face. “He deserved it. One week, no call. You do that to me and see what you get.”

  Stefano completely missed the inference. “Come on, the boy is totally nonstop and anyway he doesn’t have a cell phone; or proper shoes.”

  “Bullshit excuse.” They walked on, matching one another stride for stride, each comfortable in the rhythm of the other. Sometimes voluntarily, often involuntarily their shoulders or hands would brush together.

  “It’s lovely here isn’t it?” said Stefano as they descended into the creek. “Dealing with a stadium of desperate people every day is just too much. I like this peace.” Stefano reached up and picked a few seed kernels from a wild pistachio tree. They were far from ripe and would need de-husking and drying out in the sun before they could be eaten. He let them fall to the floor. Dressler stooped to splash some water into her hair. Stefano traced the curve of her back; power and elegance.

  Samuel stripped down to his underwear and slipped into the stream. Mariam rested on the bank watching him swim, her legs dangling into the creek. Every so often she would flick water at him as he swam by. Stefano and Dressler sat a short distance away keeping half an eye on the path into the clearing.

  “Smart the way they were for the cameras, no?” said Stefano.

  “Ja, very smart; kills the story.”

  “Our investigators dug really deep. They never found anything substantial. I don’t think there ever was a story in the first place.”

  Dressler turned and stared at Mariam for a long while. “Ja, there was.”

  Stefano shook his head unconvinced.

  Samuel dried off after his swim lying on the patchy grass beneath a pistachio tree. Mariam sat with one foot in the water, her Canaan dozing by her side. She was lazily running her fingers through the dog’s white coat.

  “We have talked about Deedee and the camp, my work, your exciting new job and as much as I love our meandering conversations I don’t think you came all this way for small talk. So what is it, why are you here?”