The Haj - Leon Uris [122]
I knew I was scarred forever from the sight and the dishonor. Yet somehow I had to put aside my own terrible vision to save our lives. I forced myself to forget for the moment what I had witnessed and I crawled up to the window. Ramiza and Fatima were crumpled on the floor. My mother was in a daze, but still she comforted them. She wiped the blood from Fatima, then held them in her arms and rocked them back and forth.
‘Mother!’ I whispered.
Her eyes widened in terror upon seeing me.
‘Do not fear. I will never tell Father. No one will know.’
‘Oh, Ishmael!’ she cried. ‘To see your mother in such shame! Get me a knife! I must kill myself!’
‘Mother, no!’
‘Ishmael, run! Run! Forget what you have seen. Run!’
‘Mother, don’t weep. It is over. Mother, please. We will live!’
‘I don’t want to live!’
It was no use. I did not care any longer. I jumped into the room and slapped her in the face. She stopped her weeping and gaped at me.
‘Will you listen now?’
She did not answer and I slapped her again. Slowly she shook her head that she heard me.
‘Do not move until darkness. Clean yourselves up. The shooting from Tel Aviv will start again after dark. The guards are smoking hashish. They will not be alert. When the firing starts, slip out one at a time and run for the market. After you gather, then go to the Clock Tower in the center of town.’
She clutched at me and looked up. Her eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears. ‘Oh, Ishmael!’
‘Did you understand me, Mother?’
‘Yes, but Ibrahim ...’
‘He will never know. Never. No one will ever know.’
She touched my face, her hands shaking. I gripped them and held them steady and begged her with my eyes to obey me. At last she said she would. I kissed her and wiped her cheeks. ‘Make yourself look nice now. I go to warn Father not to come back. All he will ever know is that the soldiers questioned you—nothing more.’
I ran. I heard firing behind me, but I didn’t know if they were shooting at me or not.
I found Nada and Kamal and told them only that the soldiers were holding the women hostage to set a trap for Father. I ordered them to stay and watch for Jamil and Omar in case they returned. We would all meet later by the Clock Tower. I made haste to save my father.
15
BASSAM EL BASSAM ASSURED Haj Ibrahim he had traded fairly with the Greek Cypriot, Harissiadis, for almost twenty years. His price for a charter to Beirut of four hundred pounds was eminently fair. Haj Ibrahim objected to the destination.
‘I have just come back from a run to Gaza,’ the Greek said. ‘I will not go back there for five thousand. The Egyptian Navy is in the waters. They shoot at anything. They all but sank a refugee boat three days ago. I have made five round trips to Gaza and enough is enough. It is too dangerous. I would not even consider taking you up to Beirut, but it happens to be on my way home to Cyprus.’
‘But we have no relatives in Beirut,’ Ibrahim said.
‘You have a safer coast and I am giving you a fair price for six hundred people. Yes or no?’
‘Harissiadis is giving you a break,’ Bassam reassured.
The bulge in his pocket was not what he had hoped. He had only one hundred and eighty pounds. Seven hundred had flown out the window with the visit to Barclay’s Bank and an equal amount had been lost when Farouk failed to show up. Ibrahim threw up his hands. ‘It’s madness. I don’t know why I left Tabah. Beirut. What is Beirut? How much time do I have to raise the money?’
One could see that the Greek was disappointed. He had been led to believe that Haj Ibrahim already had sufficient funds. ‘The truce here has been broken. The fighting increases. Who knows if there will be an assault on Jaffa? Do you know? Does Bassam know? No one knows. I will take a chance. Twenty-four hours.’
‘Tomorrow,’ Haj Ibrahim said. ‘I will pay half when my people board