Adonis Diaries

“As the Crow lost its way” (A short story, December 30, 2008)

Note: This is a fiction short story, so far. I wrote it shortly after the genocide in Gaza started. If a version of this story didn’t happen yet, it might after Gaza horrors.

Harun (Aaron) was an Egyptian Jew who was whisked to the State of Israel in 1953 by a clandestine Zionist group.  Three months ago, Ben Gurion had ordered the Mossad to wage a campaign of assassination of a few Egyptian Jews residing in Egypt and to blow a couple of Synagogues in Alexandria; this campaign was meant to frighten the Jews into leaving Egypt.

Sara was a Polish Jew who immigrated in 1947 to Palestine to flee poverty and deprivation.  She was indoctrinated into the Zionist movement and participated in active duty into the massacre of civilian Palestinians in towns close to Haifa.

Aaron met Sara who was pregnant after an affair with a Zionist officer who died during a battle to transfer Palestinians from their villages.  Harun and Sara got married. 

When the pregnancy of Sara was in her eight month Harun was ordered for duty.  Harun was reluctant of leaving Sara at this stage, but Sara reprimanded him and urged him never again to fail Eretz Israel’s purposes for establishing a Jewish State. 

It was a crucial period in the early 1950.  One Zionist political group wanted to resolve the problem with the Palestinians according to the UN resolution number 194:  the resolution mandated relinquishing the conquered land during the independence days of 1948, and accepting a Palestinian State, and the return of the Palestinian refugees. 

The other “hawkish” zealot Zionists of Ben Gurion, Moshe Dayan, and Sharon wanted to expand even further.

In order to corner the “moderate” factions into a “fait accomplit”, the Zionist zealots invaded the town of Qibiya in October 1953, and massacred 42 Palestinian civilians and blew-up 41 houses. 

The village of Qibiya was in Jordan, but Israel wanted revenge because 4 years earlier, Qibiya had resisted Israel terrorists’ infiltration during the “independence period”.  Harun was within a support group and he witnessed the massacre and participated in dumping the bodies in a common grave hole.

Harun begged Sara to leave Israel and start an honest life; Sara had but contempt and demanded that Harun leaves without her and the children since she is staying for the duration.  Harun had to remain with Sara.  Seventeen years later, two Palestinian feddayins infiltrated a colony outpost and kidnapped a Jewish family in their home.

Kassem nodded and looked at the cadet redheaded kid.  Youssef gently pushed the girl in front of her parents and slid her throat in a quick talented motion. 

Sara opened her mouth for her first uncontrollable surprise; her rigid eyes wavered in disbelief.  Harun fainted.  An entire minute of loud silence floated in the room.  In the meantime, Youssef carted the body to the basement where a burner was just starting to roar. Sara tried hard not to stutter but failed miserably and babbled: “Where are you taking my baby?” The silence resumed after the echo reverberated a few times around the room. “Why? …A kid…  Slaughtered!”

Kassem replied in boredom: “What is confusing you?  Is it the killing of a kid or the method?” 

Harun was recovering and his eyelids were fluttering as if coming out from a nightmarish dream and then abruptly straightened up as reality set in. “How could you slaughter a kid?” roared Harun. 

Kassem answered in a less cool tone: “This is a sacrificial ceremony; only halal ways is valid in cold-blooded murder”

Sara was recovering some of her wits and her argumentative style came forward: “How murder is halal?” Kassem was nonplussed: “At least we are no cowards using jet fighters and heavy guns to turn into mash the flesh and bones of children and civilians in their homes”  Harun shouted “But we never slaughtered but sacrificial animals”  Everybody understood that Harun has lost it and that he was turning on automatic his academic behavior.  Harun was not worth listening to at this phase. 

Kassem continued to the intention of Sara: “Have you kept tab on the thousand of terrorist acts that you masterminded since before the recognition of the State of Israel by the so-called United Nations?  Have you ever heard that the UN condemned once the large-scale massacres of your Zionist State?”

Sara was totally indignant: “What we did was State orders; we never committed such monstrosity on an individual basis.  What you did is crime against humanity!”  It was obvious that Sara also had lost it, and she was feverish and shivering. 

Kassem decided to cool it for another two minutes. It was just on instinct, since this was Kassem’s first cold revenge: this silence was very needed for the nerves to explode on both sides.

Kassem  asked Sara: “Do you know the original name of this village, Saraaaa?  I don’t think you ever cared.  Harun did a small inquiry several years ago; he must have told you, didn’t he?”  Subconsciously, Harun nodded his head and then recovered but refused to look at his wife.  Sara exploded: “What do I care what this village was called? We bought this house with our hard-earned savings.”

Kassem continued as if he was not listening to Sara’s lucubration: “This was the village I was born in.  I lived the best five years of my life here.  My whole family was massacred by the terrorist Irgun of Menahem Begin. A surviving elder told me that my village had a non-aggression pact with the neighboring Jewish colonies. We even stupidly denied passage to the Arab contingent defending this sector.  Harun must have related the story to you Saraaa?” 

Another minute sank in.  Sara shook her shoulders several times and shouted “But I had not immigrated to Israel when all that took place.”  Kassem said: “Nevertheless, the majority of Jewish mothers raised their children to become zealot Zionists.” 

Harun flicked his head toward Sara: that was a statement he fully comprehended and dreaded.  Kassem noticed Harun’s reflex and resumed “All the facts and atrocities were never ground for reflection and atonement.  Did the massacre in this village kept you awaking a single night, Saraaa?”

Youssef had returned.  Kassem motioned with his head toward the second girl.  Youssef walked softly toward the chair of the girl.  Harun screeched “NO, please, let us talk”

Kassem said: “You have a choice. What shall it be: Your girl or your wife?” 

Harun instinctively nodded toward his wife but could not utter a word.  Hatefully, Kassem rub it in: “When you asked Sara for her hand you talked.  If the life of your second girl is as important then I need a full sentence”

Harun failed to say a word and hoped that his silence might talk louder.  Sara stabbed her husband with burning eyes; she just realized that Harun had no affection for her.  She had no affection for her husband for years now, but this does not count: her husband was supposed to love her till death did them apart; that was the deal.

Youssef then walked behind the girl, grabbed her chin and performed his expert motion.  The elder son and his folks were numb; this ordeal of cool deja-vu was totally out-of-place and devoid of any comprehension.  Youssef carried down the body to the basement.  The house smelled the steaks. Harun fainted again.  Kassem deigned to douse Harun with a bucket of water.

When Yousef returned Kassem looked at Harun and said: “You have a choice.  Either your son or your wife” 

This time Harun did not waver; he looked straight in the eyes of his wife and he saw unlimited hatred as if she made the mistake of the century by marrying this weak, spineless man.  Harun said firmly: “Spare my son.  I have been weak and failed the wisdom that blood draw blood.  My son will never return to this forsaken land of Israel”. 

Sara was furious and regaining her previous heinous aggressiveness and hysterically kept shouting: “Kill us all. Shoot us as we killed you, you bastards.  Shoot us as war criminals.  We deserve to be treated according to the human rights conventions.

Kassem was contemplating sparing Sara’s life to give hell to the rest of the family.  Since Youssef and he will not survive this kidnapping then he might as well take revenge on the apartheid woman: Harun deserved a reprieve thought Kassem and then said with a broad smile: “Woman, it was Not a pleasure meeting you”.

Kassem and Youssef bolted out the door peppering their submachine guns in all directions.