A Little Piece of Ground Read Free Page B

felt a thump of anger and savagely kicked at the ground. The precious two hours of normal life were over. There was no telling when the next time would be.
    Together, he and Joni went out through the school gates and set off towards the supermarket.
    â€œHey,” said Joni suddenly. “Your brother’s over there.”
    Karim looked up, surprised. Jamal was a ways ahead, further along the road, with a gang of friends. Sharply dressed, they were standing around the door of the Internet cafe, their favorite place in town.
    He was relieved. There must have been no violent clash down by the tanks today.
    â€œIsn’t that your sister, too? Look, isn’t that Violette?” he said, pointing towards a girl in tight pink trousers with swinging
shoulder-length hair who was coming out of a shop on the far side of the street.
    Joni looked up quickly and dropped his eyes again, then he sidled around to walk on Karim’s far side.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you?” Karim said, surprised.
    â€œI don’t want her to see me,” mumbled Joni. “You don’t know Violette.”
    â€œSure I do. I’ve known her all my life.”
    â€œYou don’t. She’s just totally embarrassing. Last time I met her in the street she was with all her stupid friends and she called out, ‘Hey, little brother! Leila thinks you’re really handsome.’ She does it to tease me. One day I’m going to strangle her. I mean it.”
    Karim was no longer listening. He had noticed something else. His brother, the self-styled cool guy of Ramallah, was staring across at Violette with a soft, stupid look on his face. The very sight of it made Karim feel queasy.
    He was about to dig Joni in the ribs and point out this odd new development when a roar came from down the hill. The soldiers were revving up the tanks’ engines. They were about to roll back and take possession once more of the town.
    â€œMama! I’ve got to help Mama!” said Karim, suddenly remembering. “I’ll call you.”
    His mother had already finished her shopping. She was struggling out onto the pavement, loaded with half a dozen bulging bags.
    â€œKarim! There you are at last,” she snapped. “Quick! They’ll be here in a minute.”
    She had hardly finished speaking when, from below, they heard a crackle as the soldiers’ loudspeaker cleared its throat and the awful, frightening rumble as the tanks came nearer and nearer up the hill.
    â€œ Mamnou’a al tajwwol!” the loudspeaker blared out. “Being outside is forbidden!”
    â€œHurry!” shouted Lamia. “Run!”
    Together they scrambled home, over the litter of stones and rubble covering the street, clutching the flimsy plastic handles on their supermarket bags, hoping that they would hold until they and their food supplies were safely back inside.

Chapter Three
    It was another week before the tanks rolled away again from the middle of town and the daytime curfew was lifted. The tanks would come now only in the evening, staying all night, to withdraw each dawn.
    Karim felt as if a stone had been pressing down on his head and it had been eased off for a moment, as if he’d been a fly buzzing against a glass pane and the window had suddenly opened, as if he’d been an animal caught in a trap and the door had been left ajar so that he could squeeze out, at last, into the open air.
    â€œI don’t know what you’re so cheerful about,” Jamal said sourly. “They’ll come back any time they like. They’re playing with us. They’re the cats and we’re the mice.”
    Karim didn’t bother to answer. He was hunting under his bed for his soccer ball. The moment had finally come when he could play his special game again. He’d wanted it more than anything else, more even than seeing Joni.
    It was midday when the soldiers left. Hassan Aboudi, wearing his grey work suit,