The Boy from Aleppo Who Painted the War (9 page)

I start to play a game in my mind thinking of movie names with the last letter of the first movie name that pops into my head. There's a knock on the door and Baba tells me to hurry up. I don't want to leave the water. I drink some of the water around me because I don't know when I will be able to drink this much water again.

After I get dressed I put the TV on to watch something that will cheer me up while the power lasts. I have been getting very bored at home lately. Ali comes and sits next to me. He has never been my friend. Nobody at school used to speak to me and now he is making a conversation with me about when I think we will be able to go back. His face used to always have a full look to it. Like he was satisfied with everything he had. I once had a daydream he wanted to be my friend and for the rest of the day I kept on staring at him hoping he could read my mind. In the end, he and his friends laughed at me for being weird. Now his face looks empty. I don't really want to be his friend any more. We sit down quietly and watch
Punk'd
with Ashton Kutcher. I think he's really funny and he reminds me of Tariq's friend Omar. He looks a lot like him. I even think he speaks like him but Tariq says I'm exaggerating. Ali and I both laugh very loudly at the prank with Zac Efron. We are of course watching the episode with Arabic subtitles. I am the best at English in my class, writing not speaking. But I find it difficult understanding different accents. The hardest for me is the Irish. Ali likes Zac Efron. I remember at school he came in with a poster of him and stuck it on his table. The teacher had confiscated it by the end of the day but he got it back a week later. I don't really like Zac Efron though, I prefer Leonardo DiCaprio. Yasmine loves all his movies and if one of them is on TV no one is allowed to talk to her.

I wonder if Ali misses his family. He seems to be quiet about it and is laughing normally. I wasn't able to laugh at all for a few months after mama died. Even now whenever I laugh it's not the same.

Isa comes into the sitting room and ruffles my hair.

‘What are you laughing at? Let me in!'

‘
Punk'd
had an amazing prank on Zac Efron.'

‘Can I sit next to you on the sofa?'

‘Yes, come Isa.'

Isa smells nice, he has a very musky scent, no matter what. Sitting with him makes me happy.

‘Isa are you going to show Ali your poetry later?'

‘Only if he wants, do you want to hear it Ali?'

Ali nods and smiles. He has been living with us for days now but he still hardly says anything.

The second episode comes on and Ashton Kutcher starts speaking. Before we even know who is going to be pranked, I feel the ground shake. I say my prayer instantly and look at Isa.

‘Calm down, I'll see what is going on.'

I follow him to the window. Yasmine comes running in and tells me to move so she can see. We can't see much but the sky suddenly becomes dark even though it's still morning. The town is filled with smoke, I can even smell it come into the house.

‘Put the news on quickly!' Baba comes running into the room.

The screen has breaking news on it and the same woman who has been telling me what has been going on down my street before I even know about it comes on.

‘Two missiles were sent to the city of Aleppo today and the aftermath has covered the city in smoke. 17 people have been injured. A citizen reports what happened: I was cleaning my car with my son when we felt the ground shake for about five seconds and saw missiles being shot above us. It sounded like the trumpet of the Day of Judgement. It's a wake up call if anything.' Baba switches the TV off and tries to breathe in and out.

‘Maha, get me some water please.'

We all turn around the moment we hear mama's name. I feel my spine click in place and the hairs on my face tickle me. I haven't heard Baba say mama's name since she left us. Baba doesn't even open his eyes or correct himself.

‘Baba, it's Yasmine,' I tell him.

‘Someone just get me water!'

Yasmine comes in with a glass of water from the jar we filled earlier. Baba drinks it all without taking a break.

The sitting room has never looked so busy before; everyone is looking out of the window. I look around and notice how the room looks like a palette of colours. I can paint the war with the colours on their faces. Tariq puts the TV on again. The news is still talking about the bombing. I concentrate on what they're saying. They are doing live coverage. I can see my school in the distance. So many buildings are now on the ground and people are running around. I run to the window just in time to see a tall building three streets down collect dust and collapse like a Lego house. The screams are louder now and we can hear sirens. The electricity goes out and the TV turns blank. A woman is running with her kid down the street and a few men are also running behind. One of the men runs past our window and I can see a gun. I don't know who is good and who is bad.

This war is unfair, there are no uniforms or clues. A woman that looks about Yasmine's age runs past our window a few minutes later but seems to be struggling with her dress. She stops for a second and turns to see us looking out of the window. I can see the confusion in her eyes. None of us offers to help; the window is like a barrier. We are watching her like it is a movie. She pulls her dress up and runs away. I feel bad after she runs away. We could have helped, but we all stood and watched.

Things start to calm down four hours after the incident. Our street didn't get the full force but we felt the shake and one of our walls is a little tilted now. It could fall on us at any time. Isa puts on the Quran on the battery radio. We all sit around like we did at mama's funeral. This all seems too familiar; all our faces are just as long. Baba coughs really hard and I can almost hear the dryness in his throat. Nobody is saying anything. I try to think of something to say or pretend to talk about but not only is my mouth dry, my thoughts seem to be too. The elastic band on my hand starts to itch for my tug. My head is turning in a circle around my shoulders and I start blinking fast. This place is making me feel uncomfortable. As I rotate my head, I start to notice everybody's facial expressions and movements. All seven of them are rocking back and forth in different timings. They look like some religious groups that sit in a circle and rock to a tune of religious music. I start to get dizzy looking at them and concentrate on Baba. His eyes look blurry; milky describes them better. I've only seen grandma with eyes like that but mama said it was because she was so old. But Baba isn't old, he's… I can't figure out how old he is, but I know he's not old. He's probably only 50.

‘Adam, are you okay?' Yasmine asks me and I lose my concentration and turn to her.

‘Yes.'

I get up and start tugging at my hair from the back. It has grown a lot since the last time I noticed. It's now past my neck.

‘Where are you going? Stay here, we should all stay together for now.'

‘I don't want to Yasmine, I'm bored.'

‘You're right, we are all safe and together, we should be happy, let's all play a board game, what do you think Baba?'

Yasmine looks over to Baba who doesn't even flinch. I don't even think he heard her. I tap Baba's hand but he doesn't even move. I tap him harder and he turns his head around so slowly like his head is too heavy to carry. He reminds me of an owl I saw at the zoo with mama that turned its head around its whole neck. I had nightmares for a week after that I think.

Yasmine repeats her question but Baba just tells her to get more water. I run to the kitchen instead to get it. I need to get away; I'm starting to feel my chest tighten and turn dark green. There is hardly any water left but I fill up a cup anyway and walk slowly to the sitting room so it doesn't spill.

‘Yasmine there's no water left.'

I hand the water to Baba and he knocks it out of my hand. I look him right in the eye and I swear for a split second his pupils looked greyish-white.

I look down and my hand is bleeding. I don't feel any pain but I start to smell it. The smell is getting to my head and I feel my arms and legs go numb.

‘Yas… mine!' My voice quivers as I call to Yasmine but she doesn't turn around. I feel a hand on my waist and I am slowly lowered down onto the sofa. I look up at Amira's face. She has glitter on her eyelids. I close my eyes and try to breathe in and out so I don't pass out. Amira plays with my hair and starts to sing. I open my eyes and look up at her. Her voice sounds like it belongs to the girl with the Nutella eyes. She has a voice that resembles the waves in the sea. She takes me away to the beach we went to and I concentrate on the waves coming to shore in my mind. I feel my head start to settle and I smile. I wonder how the Nutella-eyed girl is doing now.

Yasmine walks up to me and asks me if I'm okay while Amira is cleaning the cut on my finger. I feel weird being looked after by two women. It's like Yasmine and mama, only it's not. The boys get up and smoke outside the house and the room looks darker without them. I sit up and decide to go to my room to paint, I can feel a painting. I'm lucky the cut wasn't on the finger I paint with. I bring out my pencil set and start to sketch my brothers standing outside the way I saw them. Two of them stand by the wall with one of their legs up and then Isa stands facing them. Their smoke unites in the middle of the triangle. I start to sketch their eyes but I'm finding it difficult. I see fire in Tariq's eyes, the Syrian flag in Khalid's but I can't figure out what Isa has.

I think his eyes are just vacant, like they're looking for something to cling onto. I giggle and decide to draw a lion in Tariq's eyes instead of fire. I love sketching lions. I am very good at it as I have practised a lot. I finish sketching the outline and pick another pencil with thicker lead to make it look darker.

Y
ASMINE IS ON THE GROUND
with her hand on her face and Baba is standing up shouting at her.

‘How can you do this to me?'

Yasmine looks up without saying anything. What did Yasmine do? I loved Baba for being caring and teaching us new things every day but now he is different.

‘I'm Yasmine.' Yasmine's voice sounds shaky, like a salt packet would sound after shaking.

‘Who's Yasmine?' Baba asks.

I put my hand through my hair and count to ten while tugging at it. I don't know what's going on. Things are always happening lately, there is no peace. Amira puts her arms around me and tries to move me away but I feel strong and angry now so I move away before I hurt someone. I sometimes feel heavy with how strong I feel, like I can punch down a wall. I have never tried though. When I feel angry I sit down and if I'm seated I lie down and say a prayer. Baba once taught me that that's what the Prophet Muhammad PBUH said we should do. Anger is the darkest colour I have ever seen anyone wear. Amira moves away from me and walks to the window to look out of it. I'm now scratching my hands together and the pain is mixing with my confusion. I don't like this at all. None of the boys are around and Baba is still shouting at Yasmine but I have stopped listening and started backing away.

‘Maha you betrayed me! How are you still in my house?'

Yasmine crawls away from Baba and turns around to me. I help her up, her eyes are puffed and she has tears coming down her face. Her hands are shaking. She walks back and pulls me with her into her room. I lock the door behind us after looking back at Baba again. He is still standing and shouting. His face is blue.

Yasmine starts to cry really loudly now and sits on the floor with her legs up to her chest. She looks like a ball.

‘AHHHHHHH!'

Yasmine is making me scared now. She is crying louder now. In-between her loud gasps, it sounds like she is losing her breath.

‘Yasmine,' I whisper. I don't know what to do. I don't want to be shouted at.

‘I hate this house!'

‘Do you hate me Yasmine?'

She looks up at me and slowly stops crying so loudly. She is still crying though, but no tears are coming down her face any more.

‘No Adam, come sit by me.'

It's been a long time since Yasmine and I sat down together.

‘I'm hungry.'

Yasmine laughs a rusty laugh.

‘I haven't sat with you in a while but you're just as I left you, hungry!'

We both laugh and stare at a frame on Yasmine's wall. It's the Dali ‘Atomicus' picture.

‘Why do you have this picture up Yasmine?'

‘Because I love photography. I wanted to be a photographer but mama told me to be a nurse. It's more feminine.'

‘Do you still want to take pictures?'

‘Yes Habibi, I think about it all the time.'

‘So why haven't you gone to work Yasmine? Don't the hospitals need you?'

‘I work at a plastic surgery centre Habibi, we have no patients for now.'

‘So we don't have money?'

‘Don't worry silly boy, go play with Ali, you have a friend at last.'

‘I don't know what to play with him. I like playing in my room but I don't want him to see my paintings.'

‘Go play hopscotch outside the door. Don't go any further,' she says and then takes a chalk out of her bedside drawer.

‘Thank you!'

I run to the sitting room and look for Ali, he is lying down on the sofa, Baba isn't here any more.

‘Do you want to play hopscotch?'

‘With you?'

‘Yes, outside the door.'

He jumps up and takes the chalk out of my hand. I run after him and watch him draw the grid. We play hopscotch and sing the national anthem the way we did every day at school during assembly. We both laugh when Ali falls on his face on the last box. I run to the end of the lane and pick up some stones from the ground for us to play with. Ali follows me and says we should go and walk around.