The Orange Grove Read Free Page B

calling them from the orange grove, where he spent twelve hours a day pruning, watering, and checking every tree. But this wasn’t the hour when he stopped to rest. Amed and Aziz dropped their pencils and ran to join their father, anxious to know what he wanted. Tamara left the house. Zahed gestured for her to come as well. She shook her head and went back inside. Zahed insulted her in front of her sons, something he’d never done before. Amed and Aziz no longer recognized their father. And yet when he began to speak, his voice was calmer than usual.
    â€œObserve, my sons, the purity of the light,” said he. “Lift your heads. Look, a single cloud is drifting in the sky. It’s very high and is slowly thinning out. In a few moments, it will be a mere thread dissolved in the blue. Look. You see, it no longer exists. All is blue. It’s strange. There’s no breeze today. The far-off mountain seems to be dreaming. Even the flies have stopped buzzing. All about us the orange trees are breathing in and out in silence. Why such calm, why such beauty?”
    Amed and Aziz were silent.
    â€œHalim. You know him? You don’t want to answer? I know that you’re acquainted with Halim. The other night, when Soulayed went silent, Halim’s father, Kamal, spoke to me. His voice was not as strong as that of Soulayed. He said to me: ‘Zahed, you have before you a great sinner. I do not deserve to be in your company. As Soulayed said, you are the worthy son of your father, Mounir, whose renown for a long time reached beyond the walls of his house. One must be in harmony with God to achieve what your father did with his two hands. How sad to look on his ruined house. How shameful. With what pain. Accept the poor prayers of the sinner I am. I strike my breast. I pray for the souls of your parents.’”
    And Kamal, with his fist, had delivered three hard blows to his heart. Like this, Zahed asserted, reenacting in front of his sons Kamal’s gesture.
    â€œKamal also said to me: ‘God has blessed you twice, Zahed. Rejoice, that he has placed in your wife’s womb two such sons. My wife died giving birth to our only son. Halim is what God has given me that is most precious. Yet I struckhim. Look, you can still see the marks on his face. I struck him when he told me what he had decided. I closed my eyes and I struck him as I would strike a wall. I closed my eyes because I could not have struck my son in the light of day. When I opened my eyes, I saw blood. I closed my eyes and I struck harder. I opened my eyes. Halim had not moved. He stood tall before me and his eyes were filled with red tears. May God forgive me. I am only a miserable sinner. I did not understand. I did not want to understand his decision.’”
    â€œâ€˜Now you understand your son’s decision,’ said Soulayed to Kamal before going to get the belt in his jeep.
    â€œDuring Soulayed’s absence, Halim leaned toward me and spoke as if he were revealing a secret.
    â€œâ€˜Zahed, listen. Before my meeting with Soulayed, I cursed my mother. I cursed her because I did not die along with her. Why be born in a land that still seeks its name? I did not know my mother and I will never know my country. But Soulayed came to me. One day, he talked to me. He said: ‘I know your father, I goto his shop to have my boots resoled. Kamal is a good worker. He asks a fair price for his labor. But he’s an unhappy man. And you, his son, you are even more unhappy. Halim, to utter the word of God is not enough. I’ve watched you during prayers. Where is your strength? Why come to prostrate yourself among your brothers and beseech God’s name? Your mouth is as empty as your heart. Who wants your unhappiness, Halim? Who can profit from your lament? You’re already fifteen years old and you’ve done nothing with this life that God has offered you. In my eyes, you are worth no more than our