The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War (6 page)

BOOK: The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War
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I suddenly feel a flutter in my stomach and I see Yasmine rush in through the door. She has dust all over her but I am so happy I can't control myself. I start jumping up and down. It's when I'm the happiest because I can feel every part of my body jumping with me and I have this extreme energy coming out of me. I can touch the sky right now. Yasmine has a smile on her face but she doesn't look as happy as me. I stop jumping and walk closer to her. She pulls me into her arms and squashes me. I want her to stop, I feel uncomfortable. I start to squirm in her arms until she lets go. I move back and start twitching my neck from side to side trying to leak my discomfort out of my ears.

‘Where did you go?' She has a tone I have never heard before. I don't know whether to be scared or happy.

I don't know what to say so I don't reply.

‘What is the smoke outside Yasmine?'

‘I don't know. Let's go home and see what the news says. Everyone is worried about you!'

‘I wanted to visit my friend but I couldn't find his house. Now it's time for school.'

‘Let's just go home, we'll talk about everything when you get some rest, today must have been a shock to you.'

‘It was scary Yasmine, I have been waiting for you for a very long time.'

‘Don't go off alone next time, you got us all worried. Yalla.'

‘But… But…'

‘Khalas, Adam.'

Yasmine walks out of the station and takes a short cut to get away from the smoke. I follow behind and can see her turn slightly to make sure I am there from the corner of her eye. She is grey too.

Chapter Six
BLUE

W
E PUT THE NEWS
on as soon as we get home. Nobody else is home. All the lights are off. I put the sitting room light on. Yasmine just sits in front of the television and doesn't turn around. The woman on TV has a lot of pain on her face, which makes me want to paint her. She is talking about young boys being kidnapped in Syria and burnt. They were tortured and their nails were pulled out. Yasmine tells me to leave the sitting room so I don't hear this, but I don't want to leave. The woman shows a picture of the streets of Syria with drawings and words all over the walls that say ‘Down with the regime!'. I don't know what that means and why the kids got tortured because of it. The thought of it makes me shake in anger and I start to pull my hair out. Yasmine runs up to me but I run away and lock my door. I can't be around anyone when I am angry, I feel like a volatile chemical reaction waiting to explode. I feel an unfamiliar emotion grow inside me, like spiders are crawling up my chest and to my throat to strangle me. I don't know why I suddenly feel this way but it's choking me. I have the urge to paint and I can already see the painting in my head. Two young boys lying in the water with their bodies spread open, free, but their faces disfigured, burnt. You can't even tell where their eyes and nose really are. It would be a black-and- white painting with the faces a spectrum of colours. It's going to be horrible and beautiful all at the same time.

As soon as I finish my painting it lets off a bitter scent, like vinegar. The power goes out. Yasmine knocks on my door and gives me a candle to put in my room for when it gets dark.

‘Yasmine, I'm hungry.'

‘If you're hungry I'll prepare your meal, nobody else wants to eat.'

We go to the kitchen and this time there is no fruit on the table and when Yasmine opens the fridge the first two rows are empty.

‘Why is there no food in the fridge Yasmine?'

‘Because everybody finished it Habibi, we'll buy some tomorrow. Don't worry and just eat.'

Yasmine puts out some bread for me to eat. I know we don't have food at home, but I don't know why. I wish I could have some rice with red soup now. Mama's rice and soup was the best.

I can hear the boys come in with Baba. I sit down on the chair and have my bread. Khalid comes in and picks Yasmine up and twirls her. Yasmine giggles and hits him to put her down. He pretends he is going to throw her in the bin and she screams. I don't like seeing anyone else make Yasmine happy, but it's been a long time since she was my favourite colour ruby so I laugh with her too.

‘So what's to eat?' Khalid asks Yasmine as he puts her down. Yasmine doesn't answer, she just looks at me and then Khalid does too.

‘Well I ate already so I was going to tell you there's no need to make a lot of food.'

Yasmine smiles and pats him on the shoulder. Isa and Tariq pop their heads into the kitchen too and then Baba joins us and asks why everyone is in the kitchen. I start laughing for no reason. I suddenly feel a surge of electricity run through me, and my laugh keeps getting louder. I have tears falling down my cheeks from my laughter and as I look around the kitchen everybody looks like they're drowning in my eyes. Tariq starts laughing too. It feels like I have party poppers going off in my heart and I have to release all my energy.

We all go and sit in the sitting room and Baba takes the Quran from the shelf and goes to his room to read. Mama said that when I was young I always used to sit next to Baba when he was reading the Quran and smile at him. He has a voice that flows like cool lemonade down my chest and makes me feel relaxed. The words of the Quran always comfort me and, even though it is so poetic and written in classic Arabic that I don't completely understand, there is something about it that speaks to me.

Tariq, Isa and Khalid start talking about what is happening around us. They don't say the word ‘war' once but their voices sound like bullets. The droning sound of their heavy words hurts my head.

‘Don't say their name,' Tariq whispers to Khalid.

‘Whose name?'

They both look at me and tell me to go to my room but I don't want to.

‘They can't keep controlling us! I am fed up with this, we need a revolution!'

‘They have us in a corner, you know if you say anything they will kill all of us, be careful Khalid!'

‘I can't live like this any more! I feel like a lab rat! Those kids that were burnt today for asking for freedom, why? How is that fair?'

‘You will be too if you're not careful!'

‘I'll die for freedom, I am not following any sects, I am just following my religion and they can't keep messing around with it or my freedom!'

‘Assad,' I say.

They both look at me with a blank expression. I don't know why I said his name or why I am now repeating it but it keeps rolling down my tongue like it enjoys the ride. Tariq tries to explain to me in a low voice that I shouldn't say his name. But why shouldn't I? It's just a name, why should I be scared? I continue to say his name until all of a sudden Isa gets up and kicks the table and then storms off to his room. The sound freezes the name in my mouth and I have to swallow to get rid of the block in my throat. Isa's face looked like a jigsaw puzzle. I don't like what the war is doing to my family. I don't know who to listen to, they all have opinions and the news has a different one. I don't want to listen to any of them. I just don't want my family and me to get hurt and I don't want school to stop and I don't want blood on the streets with people dying. I just want my normal life. I hate the war. I am still hungry but I don't want to ask Yasmine for more food, she's been in a bad mood lately.

Baba is an orphan and he once took me shopping and told me that there were days when he would be treated badly by his foster-parents and they wouldn't feed him and he would hide bread under his pillow and soak it in water for it to soften up and then eat it before he went to sleep. He said sleep made him forget about his childhood because he remembers the dreams he had and he thought he was living them. Baba then bought me a dessert called sahlab and told me the story about him running away from school every week to eat this dessert and get away from the scary school he hated so much. He used to always get into trouble but he said it was worth it because that warm dessert made his insides happy.

A knock on the door and a loud voice calling Khalid's name disturbs my thoughts. He gets up and opens the door to one of our neighbours who's holding a platter of fried dessert. I can faintly hear their conversation but I know it's going to end up with Khalid going out. I wish he would stay at home for a bit longer. I like company.

Khalid walks back in and puts the platter on the table. The honey glazing on top is melting and my mouth is watering for it. Why do the neighbours have food and we don't?

‘Want to walk down the streets with us?' Khalid asks me. He never asks me to go out with him and his friends. I jump up and clap my hands and stand in front of the door ready to go. His friend laughs and we walk out. It is starting to get dark now and we walk past the cafés that used to be filled with men playing backgammon and drinking tea and are now half empty and some even closed. We pass by kids playing hopscotch and my heart feels heavy. I wish my neighbours would play with me. I feel sad when I hear kids playing outside and nobody rings on my door to call me out. That's why I like Nabil, because he likes to play with me.

The further down we walk, as they talk and I listen, the louder the sounds of people marching is getting. There is an echo of people chanting ‘Down with the regime' and I can spot a flag being held up high. Is this the revolution that Yasmine has been telling me about, the one they went to? There is a strong smell of petrol coming out of Khalid's friend's mouth. I am not sure if I like him or not. I usually sense people's auras but his is difficult to pinpoint. I don't feel comfortable with that so I move away from him and stand by Khalid.

Five minutes later it's like we've entered a new world. There are buildings that are half-collapsed with rubble all around them. One of the buildings looks like a sleeping troll. The streets are packed with people chanting and holding flags. They look like a hungry army of ants going for attack. They also remind me of a scene from
Braveheart
. Many people are greeting Khalid and his friend. They seem to be well known here. Khalid is walking differently to how he does at home. His chest is pushed out and one of his eyebrows is raised. He looks serious. I didn't know people change in different places.

I jump on Khalid's shoulders to see things from above but I think I am too heavy because he is breathing loudly. There is a rectangular box with the Syrian flag and flowers on top of it. I think it is a dead body. I feel sick. I hit Khalid on his shoulders and shout to be put down. He puts me down quickly and asks me what's wrong but I just run to a pavement and vomit. I do it for two minutes and four seconds. All the violet in me is on the floor now. The pavement around me is violet. I look up and Khalid is violet too.

*

I wake up to Yasmine moving my hair out of my face. My hair has grown below my ears. I need a haircut. I don't remember going to bed. The last thing I remember is the overwhelming sensation I got at the revolution. I sit up and look around and find three bags on the floor with clothes in them.

‘Yasmine, are you going somewhere?'

She smiles and continues to play with my hair.

‘We are going away for a few days to the beach, would you like that?'

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!… Yasmine I saw a house… a house that is half gone and there were two kids looking out of the window. The half of the house had bullets all around it with the shape of a UFO. I had a dream that a UFO came and destroyed everything.' I don't realise I am crying until Yasmine tells me to calm down and stop crying. She continues to play with my hair because that's the closest I will let her come to me.

‘Did you see that yesterday Habibi?'

‘Yes.'

‘Don't go to the marches outside, you might get hurt.'

‘Khalid took me out, I get lonely at home.'

‘We are going to the beach to have fun, come on, get up!' Yasmine pulls me up and pushes me to the bathroom. We both start laughing and I have energy because I made Yasmine ruby again.

We all get ready in half an hour and I put my cap on for the sun, I love holidays. There is a taxi waiting outside for us and we all get in and start singing road songs all the way out of our city. The moment we leave, I can see the sun again and my heart feels like a blooming rose. I hope the sun lasts for the few days we are away. We stop at a petrol station on the way and I run around the car 17 times before I get dizzy and get back inside. I am already having so much fun. I wish things could always be this fun. The boys and Baba are smoking outside the window so I close it before the smell suffocates me and I am strangled to the ground. I put my hands around my neck and pretend their smoke is strangling me. I knock on the window with my elbow so they can turn around and see me. I love making people laugh.

We get to the seaside in two hours and 23 minutes, southwest all the way. It's warmer here.

‘Yasmine put sunscreen on me.'

‘Wait till we get to the house.'

‘Whose house is it Yasmine?'

‘Aunt Rana's house.'

‘Is she going to be home?'

‘No Habibi, she lent us the house for a few days.'

‘Yayyy!' I run to the house where Khalid is standing outside smoking and the driver and the boys are taking the bags into the house.

The house looks very different to ours. The sun is shining on it and for a moment I forget there is a war back home. I run upstairs to look around the house. I decide to stay in the room that overlooks the beach. Then I change my mind. I don't want to imagine sea monsters at night when I look down. I settle for the small room next to it. I can still hear the waves from here. The smell is like a shell mama once bought me when she came here to visit her sister. This makes me think of mama but I run downstairs and shake my head before I get sad.

I tug at Yasmine's dress and ask her when we are going out to the beach. She says we have to eat first. I can't wait to go swimming. Baba used to take me to our neighbour's swimming pool every week when I was young. I love being in the water, I feel so free. It's the only time I can ever be myself and laugh till I can't any more. The water on my skin reminds me of a story I heard about a prince who thought that the sea was a magical place. He built a palace on top of the water and learnt to live underwater because the water against his skin understood him more than any other person ever had. The water is my best friend because it plays with me for as long as I want.

BOOK: The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War
2.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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