Earth and Ashes Read Free

Dastaguir be!
    “I hear the Russians reduced the whole village to smoke and ashes last week. Is it true?”
    You’ll have no peace. You came for water, not tears. A mouthful of water, nothing more. Brother, by the grace of God, don’t pour salt on our wounds.
    What is this, Dastaguir? Moments ago your heart was heavy. You wanted to talk to anyone about anything. Now, here is someone who’ll listen to what lies in your heart, whose look alone is a comfort. Say something!
    Without taking your eyes off the hut, you answer, “Yes, brother. I was there. I saw everything. I saw my own death …”
    You fall silent. If you get involved in a conversation, you might forget about the vehicle.
    The shopkeeper takes off his glasses and pokes his head out the window to see what interests you so much. As soon as he sees the hut, he understands. He sits back behind his large pair of scales.
    “My good brother, it’s still too early. A vehicle always comes by around two. You’ve got two hours ahead of you.”
    “At two? Why didn’t the guard say anything?”
    “Probably because he isn’t too sure himself. It’s not his fault. The cars and lorries come at odd times. Besides, what’s on time in this country that transport should be? These days …”
    “Grandfather, jujube fruits!”
    Yassin’s words interrupt the shopkeeper. You take the copper cup from Yassin’s hands. He hasn’t finished it.
    “First drink your water.”
    “I want jujubes, jujubes!”
    You put the cup to Yassin’s mouth and gesture impatiently for him to finish. Yassin turns his head away and continues in a voice choked with sobs, “Jujubes! Jujubes!”
    The shopkeeper reaches out through the shop window and passes Yassin a handful of fruit. The child grabs it and sits down at your feet. And you, cup of water in hand, try to keep your temper. God help me. You sigh.
    “That child will make a madman of me.”
    “Don’t say that, father. He’s a child. He doesn’t understand.”
    You sigh again, more deeply than before and say, “I’m afraid, brother, the problem isn’t that he can’t understand … The child has gone deaf.”
    “May God heal him! What happened?”
    You finish the remainder of your grandson’s water and continue, “He lost his hearing during the bombing of the village. I don’t know how to make him understand. I speak to him the same as before. I still scold him … It’s just habit …”
    As you talk, you pass the copper cup back through the window. The man takes it and looks sympathetically at Yassin, then at you, then at the empty cup … He prefers silence. Like a ghost, he withdraws into the shop. His hand reaches for a small bowl on one of the wooden shelves. He fills it with tea and hands it to you.
    “Take a mouthful of tea, good brother. You’re exhausted. You still have plenty of time. I know all the vehicles that go to the mine. If one comes, I’ll tell you.”
    You glance over at the guard’s hut and, after a moment’s hesitation, take the bowl of tea, saying, “You’re a man with a good heart. May your forebears rest in peace!”

    The sound of your sipping brings a kind smile to the shopkeeper’s lips.
    “If you’re feeling cold, come inside; your grandson also looks cold.”
    “God bless you, brother, it’s fine here. There’s sun. We don’t want to disturb you anymore. What if a car were to come. I’ll drink my tea and we’ll be gone.”
    “Father, I just told you. I’ll let you know if a car comes. You can see them pass from here. Now, if you don’t want to stay, that’s another story.”
    “I swear to you, brother, it’s not a matter of wanting or not wanting. That guard isn’t the kind of man to make a car wait.”
    “Dear father, it takes a long time for him to issue a pass and then open the barrier. And he isn’t a bad man, that guard. I know him. He comes here a lot. It’s sorrow that has ruined him.”
    The man falls silent. He puts a cigarette into the corner of his mouth and