Chapter Thirteen

Medina Amari

Medina Amari

It was the year 1192, and Zahra was sitting on the stone terrace of our small nameless town off in the countryside. She sat with her hands clasped together and stared at nothing as her legs swung lazily with the wind. Her face perked up at my footsteps, at the time I hadn't trained them to be silent because Zahra was blind and relied heavily on her surroundings to understand what was happening. There was no cure for her eyes or for the illness that swept through the village, taking her parents along with them.

I purposely made loud sloppy noises in the path and found Zahra's face turning into a silent smile as she felt me draw nearer. Although young, her eyes were greyed with a permanent darkness.

She grinned with her teeth, a few missing as her adult ones grew in. I could hear her small laughter echo into the air in gentle breaths full of youth. I felt my lips curve as I sat next to her on the handcrafted rock bench. Her feet dangled in the air, her body was too small and too frail to reach the ground.

"Uncle! Uncle!" she called, "What story do you have for me today?"

In my hands, I clasped a decrepit piece of paper with a handwritten story. I cleared my throat as I recited what I remembered from the text from the woman at the store. It was a routine, I'd borrow a story and she'd speak it to me, and I'd remember it and share it with the children. I'd never learned how to read fluently with the overdone letters that swam on the page, I found it harder than swinging a blade.

"Once upon a time, long ago," I started, my voice full of fervour as I acted out the short story, "There lived a young man who discovered the cave of wonders. In it were jewels and gems, shiny and brilliant pots and pans. But what attracted his attention was the golden lamp held on a pedestal at the centre."

"Uncle Uncle, what is a lamp?"

"Imagine a cave full of space and wonders, a lamp is a trinket that holds a small cave of emptiness."

"You can put whatever you want in the small cave?" She asked innocently.

I nodded even though she couldn't see me and reassured her, "You can put anything you want in the small cave."

She clapped excitedly, "I would put Uncle in the lamp. And then I'd carry it everywhere and put everyone else in it too, I'd put Madam Parisa in there, Librarian Roya, and Old Man Karim in there. Safe and sound."

My heart flew at her kind words, at her ignorance and bliss. She was so young and blooming with life. It was a precious sight.

Her bright voice brightened even the dullest of days, days like today when the clouds blocked the sun and covered the sky in a grey blanket. "Uncle Uncle, continue with the story."

"The man stared longingly at the lamp, and then held it, and out came two djinns who burst into song and then asked the old man what he wished for."

Zahra was silent for a moment, "Uncle, what does he wish for?"

"Well, he wishes to win the heart of the beautiful princess. He wishes to take the cave of jewels as a present to her, he dazzles her in wealth and even gets a palace."

Zahra's mouth dropped baffled in awe. Her hands shot up to her face as she tried her hardest to imagine what a palace is. How tall it could be, how spacious and shiny it would be unlike the grimy filth we lived in. Although Zahra had never thought of it that way. She'd always say; 'a home is a home no matter how big or small, clean or dirty.'

"Uncle Uncle, what's a home?"

It was another evening of storytelling when I explained, "A home is a place where people come back to, it's where you sleep, where you eat, where you live with family. Home feels warm, home feels like the place you belong."

"I think everyone deserves a home."

"Me too."

Tears pricked Zahra's eyes. "Does this mean I don't have a home anymore?"

"No it doesn't," I wiped away her tears with a rough, scarred hand, "I am your home now."

I could hear the words echo in my mind. I gripped the flimsy material in my hand as I asked, "What would you wish for?"

She thought hard for a long time, her eyebrows creased in deep thought. "I'd wish for a lot of things, for mom and dad to hold my hand, for uncle to tell me more stories, to see the world the way you all do, to see colour, to see a real town with a real name. There is so much I want to do."

I thought along the same lines as she, wishing for so many things in a world as twisted as ours. Zahra was only eight yet suffered more than anyone should be forced to. My heart hurt for her but she smiled like nothing happened. She spoke so easily, as if the weight of loss and grief didn't hurt her. But it was there. I was there when she wept, unable to hold her parents hands for the last time. I knew she still ached, that's why her eyes were still glossy every time I met her.

I knew she hurt.

"But you know, there is one thing I'd wish for," she said quietly, looking down shyly. I took her hand. "For me and Uncle to go home."

Her answer hits me hard.

I then replay my own wish in my head. She doesn't even need to ask to know my wish, something I clung onto. Zahra didn't know of my work or my past, or at least she doesn't show it. Her hand is small in mine, cold and nimble as she begins humming a tune. I heard it every time I visited, and sometimes hummed it whenever I was nervous in my dull moments, at least knowing there was one person that wasn't afraid of me.

It begins to rain. First it trickles, then it pours. I move to hide the physical copy of the unfinished story into my clothing, shading it from the falling water. I take Zahra's hand and calmly evacuate to a sheltered area. I left her there, kissing her wet cheek goodbye as I checked the area for any danger zones. The sand turned muddy, and mud was dangerous when it rained heavily as it did now.

I carefully walked around the town and helped the elderly into protected areas. I helped Madam Parisa, Librarian Roya and Old Man Karim. Some people fell into small holes and I'd help them too. They'd stare at their breaking homes made of soil, ground and rock. Since we weren't as developed as most modern towns, we were cursed to see our homes break, and we were forced to rebuild them. Again, and again, and again.

The sky cracked brightly and was followed by the clap of thunder. I recalled how scared Zahra would get whenever we lay in the night of whatever inn we snuggled in. She'd hold my hand as we hummed Zahra's lullaby, sometimes nibbling her favourite rare snacks until we fell asleep. Our home wasn't a place, it was each other.

My heart hurt with a phantom pain as I doubled back to the trees where Zahra was left with other children, circled underneath a makeshift melon stall. I passed by the familiar collapsing town as I made my way to the edge of town only to hear a rumble, large enough to shake the ground.

It came in the direction of where Zahra was.

I ran. Most would say running in rain and mud was even more dangerous than murdering a man for a few dinars. But I did it anyway. Screams followed me as I approached the sound that sent larger shaking waves. Fear trembled in me as I stopped in my tracks.

The ground had collapsed beneath this entire side of town, taking everything down with it. Sand buried what was once a bustling part of our nameless town, our nameless home. My breath hitched as I began digging at where the shrill screams echoed underneath the sand. I found little hands struggling to stay afloat. Everyone was fighting for their lives.

I couldn't think as I ran in, searching for Zahra.

I scanned each face of every child. She wasn't there.

My voice was hoarse as I yelled for her, digging faster and harder. People joined in, searching for their families and friends. Zahra and I didn't have any but each other. I dug and dug until my hands burned, and even then I continued to dig.

"Uncle!"

I sprinted to the voice and found her, barely hanging off a rock over a makeshift cliff that had sprouted from the rumbling. She clung on for dear life. Her glazed eyes were wide and wet as she struggled to hang on. I ran faster as she called out once more, her voice a leading beacon as I forced one foot in front of the other.

I watched as her hands slipped.

She began to fall but I launched myself forward and grasped her hand in time to catch her falling body. She was screaming, her legs kicking as she fought to hold on.

"I've got you."

She was in hysterics but she was safe.

"I've got you."

I pulled her up, and in the drowning mud held her close. Her grasp on me was tight as she sobbed into my wet clothes. She cried and cried and I held her in the pouring rain.

Then another rumble broke out, and the ground beneath my feet fell.

This time I hung onto the ledge, my blades out and into the stone to keep me from falling down into the bottomless pit. Zahra was looking for me, having lost contact with me, she was left wandering.

I shouted, "Don't move."

She listened to my command but called out for me in a throaty cry. Her hands fumbled around on the ground and found mine. "Uncle I'll save you. I'll save you, I promise."

She pulled but to no avail. Her small body couldn't possibly lift my hefty weight, especially under the rain and mud working against her. There was no hope.

She cried out, "I'm not losing my home!"

I fought to stay up, my muscles aching as I gripped her hands and my blades. For once these blades served a purpose in all these years. They kept me up long enough to stare at Zahra's face a moment longer, study her brown mop of hair, her dimples, her beautiful eyes.

"Listen to me Zahra. You need to find Librarian Roya for me, she'll shelter you, she'll care for you. Tell her I can't meet her this weekend."

Zahra hollered, "No, you aren't leaving me!"

I watched her struggle against the odds, fighting for everything she stood for. It saddened me that I couldn't see her smile one last time, couldn't tell her one more story, couldn't see her fulfil her wish. There was so much I wanted to teach her, so much I wanted to show her. There was so much more love for me to give. I had a future for her.

I whispered loud enough for her to hear. "I love you."

The ground shook, and down I fell into the endless sea of sand. Time slowed and the last thing I saw was Zahra yelling incoherently as the rain fell with me. Even as the sand blurred my vision, I saw Zahra in my final moments.

My wish, dear Zahra, is to save someone.

I guess I did save someone after all.