that one of the cars in it was painted green … and another part was painted red, and even its black was shiny as if it were a color too. And whenever the train whistle sounded I started as if I were frightened, and then I would find myself laughing. I laughed aloud.
“My father bought us lukoum before he boarded the train. When he boarded I saw him through the window and we began towave at him with our hands. Then the train started to move and I was moving my eyes between my father’s face behind the glass and the wheels that were turning slowly, then faster. That day was the most joyful day of my life. It’s etched into my memory in its smallest detail, even the pliable feel of the lukoum between my fingers and the taste of the almonds and the powdered sugar in my mouth, I remember it. On the way back your uncle slept, he was deeply asleep, sitting next to two of my uncles in the back seat of the carriage, but my uncle who was driving the carriage let me sit next to him in the front, so I saw the whole horse and I could almost touch his tail, if I leaned forward a little. But my uncle had his arm around my waist so I wouldn’t be hurt by any sudden movement of the carriage or the horse. It was the end of autumn; the sky was a little cloudy, maybe it had rained during the previous days. The trees were dense and colorful, green and red and brown, and the earth was also colored, red sometimes and sometimes black, and sometimes the color of coffee before it’s roasted. The hills extended on our left, cloudy and milky, in waves as if they weren’t hills. The clouds above them were amazing, at times looking like white lambs with thick wool and at times like a sea of shells. I even liked the sting of the cold that day. I was sitting next to my uncle, turning my eyes from the sky to the earth, from the horse to the hills, from the tree that we were passing to the tree we were approaching. The road seemed calm like a dream, disrupted only by the neighing of the horse or the sound of his hooves on the road.”
He suddenly stopped. He said, “Good night, Ruqayya. Tomorrow is another day.”
It seems I didn’t sleep long as I awoke before my mother and found my father sitting next to the radio. I said good morning. He looked up at me and said, “Your uncle is an ass, Ruqayya!” The expression surprised me, threw me into confusion even. I didn’t understand until two or three days later, when it seemed clear that there was good news from the battles raging in many places. I took my father’s words as a comment on my uncle’s decision to leave,which now seemed uncalled for. The Syrians had taken possession of Samakh and the Jews had pulled out after suffering heavy losses. The two neighboring colonies had fallen. It was said that the Egyptian army was moving toward Tel Aviv, and that the Iraqi forces were launching fierce attacks on a large colony named Gesher, with armored cars and airplanes. The Atarot colony on the Jerusalem–Ramallah road fell, and the guerrilla fighters succeeded in turning back the attempted invasion of the old city of Jerusalem.
On the night of Wednesday to Thursday I dreamed that I was visiting Medina The Blessed. When I told the dream to my mother, as she was absorbed in her usual Thursday bread baking, her face lit up and she assured me that it was a vision and not a dream. “The bastards will be defeated and the whole country will become like blessed Medina!”
7
When They Occupied the Village
I didn’t hear the noises; I was sleeping. When my mother woke me up, I heard them and asked her about them. She said, “Wake up Wisal and Abed. Put out fodder for the livestock that will last two or three weeks, and a lot of water. Scatter seed for the chickens, a lot. And the horse, don’t forget the horse. Lift the oil cans off the ground so the moisture doesn’t get to them, and put a cushion between the wall and each can. Dress in three layers, and Wisal also, and the boy.” I asked,
“My father bought us lukoum before he boarded the train. When he boarded I saw him through the window and we began towave at him with our hands. Then the train started to move and I was moving my eyes between my father’s face behind the glass and the wheels that were turning slowly, then faster. That day was the most joyful day of my life. It’s etched into my memory in its smallest detail, even the pliable feel of the lukoum between my fingers and the taste of the almonds and the powdered sugar in my mouth, I remember it. On the way back your uncle slept, he was deeply asleep, sitting next to two of my uncles in the back seat of the carriage, but my uncle who was driving the carriage let me sit next to him in the front, so I saw the whole horse and I could almost touch his tail, if I leaned forward a little. But my uncle had his arm around my waist so I wouldn’t be hurt by any sudden movement of the carriage or the horse. It was the end of autumn; the sky was a little cloudy, maybe it had rained during the previous days. The trees were dense and colorful, green and red and brown, and the earth was also colored, red sometimes and sometimes black, and sometimes the color of coffee before it’s roasted. The hills extended on our left, cloudy and milky, in waves as if they weren’t hills. The clouds above them were amazing, at times looking like white lambs with thick wool and at times like a sea of shells. I even liked the sting of the cold that day. I was sitting next to my uncle, turning my eyes from the sky to the earth, from the horse to the hills, from the tree that we were passing to the tree we were approaching. The road seemed calm like a dream, disrupted only by the neighing of the horse or the sound of his hooves on the road.”
He suddenly stopped. He said, “Good night, Ruqayya. Tomorrow is another day.”
It seems I didn’t sleep long as I awoke before my mother and found my father sitting next to the radio. I said good morning. He looked up at me and said, “Your uncle is an ass, Ruqayya!” The expression surprised me, threw me into confusion even. I didn’t understand until two or three days later, when it seemed clear that there was good news from the battles raging in many places. I took my father’s words as a comment on my uncle’s decision to leave,which now seemed uncalled for. The Syrians had taken possession of Samakh and the Jews had pulled out after suffering heavy losses. The two neighboring colonies had fallen. It was said that the Egyptian army was moving toward Tel Aviv, and that the Iraqi forces were launching fierce attacks on a large colony named Gesher, with armored cars and airplanes. The Atarot colony on the Jerusalem–Ramallah road fell, and the guerrilla fighters succeeded in turning back the attempted invasion of the old city of Jerusalem.
On the night of Wednesday to Thursday I dreamed that I was visiting Medina The Blessed. When I told the dream to my mother, as she was absorbed in her usual Thursday bread baking, her face lit up and she assured me that it was a vision and not a dream. “The bastards will be defeated and the whole country will become like blessed Medina!”
7
When They Occupied the Village
I didn’t hear the noises; I was sleeping. When my mother woke me up, I heard them and asked her about them. She said, “Wake up Wisal and Abed. Put out fodder for the livestock that will last two or three weeks, and a lot of water. Scatter seed for the chickens, a lot. And the horse, don’t forget the horse. Lift the oil cans off the ground so the moisture doesn’t get to them, and put a cushion between the wall and each can. Dress in three layers, and Wisal also, and the boy.” I asked,
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