《A Young Girl Decides to Kill》


 A Young Girl Decides to Kill, Part 1

    ¡°Allah is the Greatest! Praise and glory be to You, O Allah. Blessed be Your Name, exalted be Your Majesty and Glory. There is no god but You. I seek Allah''s shelter from Satan, the--¡±


    A shot rang in the valley.


    <hr>


    Wafaa was perched on top of a boulder and gazed with awe at the sun eagle. She waited for the eagle to dive and snatch a snake or a rodent (or maybe her annoying baby brother Nour if she was lucky).


    Wafaa was patient. She had to be. She was a photographer. She didn¡¯t have a camera, but this wasn¡¯t a problem. Whenever something interesting happened, she¡¯d frame it with her fingers, blink, and the image would be recorded in her memory forever. Most of the boys already had phones. Soon it will be her turn. Either that or she will steal one. She was the witness to a covenant: the least her miserly father (or miserly god) could do was to get her a damn phone!


    A distant bark made Wafaa tear her eyes from the sky and look at the wadi below. A man was looking up at her. He was surrounded by a couple dozen fat sheep and accompanied by an enthusiastic mutt the color of chocolate krembo left in the sun. The man was tall and slightly overweight and had a red keffiyeh on his head.


    He waved at her. Wafaa turned to flee, slipped from her perch and tumbled head over heels through thorny bushes and sharp-edged rocks. She landed at the man¡¯s feet and was instantly surrounded by a flock of fearless sheep who really had no idea how sheep are supposed to behave. The dog came running and gave her a big lick. Sadly, it didn¡¯t taste like krembo.


    Despite an assortment of dull and sharp aches spread evenly across her small body, Wafaa was ready to bolt. However, there was no way she could cross this ocean of wool without some shouting and kicking. She doubted the man would appreciate a stranger abusing his flock. That was his prerogative.


    ¡°By God! Are you alright?¡± The man¡¯s singsong accent sounded like the sweetest music to a girl used to people who sometimes barked orders or muttered curses but mostly just stared balefully at a world that had no use for them.


    ¡°I am fine. Please let go.¡± Wafaa gabbled as the shepherd helped her to her feet.


    The man laughed. ¡°I am not holding you, you crazy girl. You are holding me.¡±


    Wafaa hurriedly pulled her hand away and took one step back. A sheep bleated in protest.


    The man¡¯s smile wavered. ¡°It¡¯s a joke. I am sorry. A bad joke. My name is Salim. I¡¯m from the village. My uncle is sick so I¡¯m looking after his sheep. Who are you? I¡¯ve never seen you before.¡±


    Wafaa stopped and frowned. Why does he talk so much?


    Her dour family had no use for outsiders. Strangers were generally confined to the realm of cautionary tales. On the rare occasions outsiders came to visit, the kids were kicked out of the camp. Anyone caught peeking would be punished until their butt glowed in the dark. Wafaa¡¯s brother Mazen claimed to have hidden inside a tree and seen a guest who was as tall as a camel and had fur that changed colors like oil on the road. Wafaa was skeptical. Mazen would say anything to sound more important than he was.


    She knew that at some point the man would try to convert her. Apostasy was punishable by death. Everything was punishable by death. However, she was lonely and bored and angry. Talking to him was the sort of a bad idea she just couldn¡¯t refuse. Besides, she was a very important girl. Anyone would think twice before hurting her (outside of schedule). Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°Maybe you have a concussion?¡± Salim tried to place a hand on Wafaa¡¯s forehead. She recoiled and took another step back. A sheep cried with indignation and pushed the girl in the direction of the shepherd. Someone really has to teach these sheep how to sheep¡­


    ¡°I am fine.¡± Wafaa repeated. ¡°It¡¯s not safe to speak here.¡± She didn¡¯t want the man to run away and plunge her back into a world of grim stares and baleful silences. However, she wanted to be beaten or murdered even less.


    Salim looked around. Wafaa guessed he searched for wild animals, precarious rocks, Jews, or anything else that could spell disaster for a pair of Bedouin out in the wild. All he saw was endless green hills fuzzy with the spring bloom and a lazy eagle hovering beneath fluffy clouds. ¡°Why would I be in danger? Are you chased by monsters?¡± Salim snickered. ¡°Are you eloping?¡±


    Wafaa shrugged. She didn¡¯t know what ¡°eloping¡± meant.


    Salim took it as an invitation to go on talking. ¡°Did you hear about the Israeli attack in the village last week? They took Abu Hamam and made a terrible mess in his house--¡±


    Wafaa looked around to make sure no one was watching them. ¡°Are you Muslim?¡±


    ¡°Praise be unto God, I am!¡± The shepherd announced proudly. His dog barked, either to affirm it was Muslim too or to offer a theological counterpoint.


    ¡°My father doesn¡¯t like Muslims.¡± Wafaa regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She meant this as a warning, but soon realized it sounded more like a rebuke. Truth be told, her mother didn¡¯t like Muslims either. She warned little Wafaa that Muslim men will try to entice her to join their false religion with sweet words and sweet candy. Wafaa¡¯s mouth watered. She could go for something sweet right now.


    Salim looked amused rather than angry. ¡°Christian?¡±


    Wafaa shook her head vehemently. Christ the Jew. Christ the King of Sheep. Christ the feeble liar¡­


    ¡°Jewish?!¡± Salim cried in surprise. Damn the Jews. The killers. The despoilers. The thieves of prophecy. The forever enemies. The triple cursed¡­


    Wafaa shook her head. ¡°Do you have something sweet?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No¡­¡± Salim said carefully. ¡°But wait, if you aren¡¯t Muslim or Christian or Jewish¡­ By God, What are you?¡±


    Wafaa shrugged. She wouldn¡¯t be getting any candy after all. ¡°I am me. This is not a good place to talk. Let¡¯s talk somewhere else. I will tell you.¡±


    ¡°What? Why? I haven¡¯t touched you. Well, I helped you up, but not touched-touched you, I mean, like a man and a woman--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t play games.¡± Wafaa said sternly. ¡°They will kill you. It will be very sad because you look like a good man.¡± And Wafaa wouldn¡¯t get any candies or conversation. She would get a beating so hard she would pee herself.


    ¡°By God, you¡¯re a weird one, but I¡¯m consumed with curiosity. How can we meet so that it¡¯s safe?¡± The man¡¯s mock concern evinced his ignorance of the very real danger he was in. Stupid shepherd, he must have been twice her age but he behaved like a baby.


    Wafaa shook her head. ¡°Meet me on Friday morning in the shadow of the leaning wall.¡± She pointed at a ruined village on a nearby hillside. ¡°No one but me goes there because it¡¯s a difficult climb. I¡¯m the best climber in my camp.¡±


    Salim laughed. ¡°Well, at least when it comes to going downhill very quickly, you¡¯re an ace.¡±


    ¡°I tripped¡­¡± Wafaa protested. ¡°You scared me!¡±


    ¡°By God, I was joking.¡± Salim raised his hands in a gesture of supplication. ¡°And hey, you still haven¡¯t told me your name.¡±


    Wafaa considered this for a moment. Names had power but so was the ability to share them. If you didn¡¯t share your name with anyone, no one had power over you but you didn¡¯t have any power over yourself either. Wafaa decided that this wouldn¡¯t do; everyone needed a small measure of power in the world, even little girls.


    ¡°My name is Wafaa bint Uthman bin Jaddi al-Safiru. Do not ask for more because such secrets are not for you.¡± Wafaa looked up for inspiration. The clouds looked like cotton candy. ¡°Bring something sweet! And a phone!¡±


    She was about to turn away when she remembered another thing her mother warned her about. ¡°We are not going to kiss. Don¡¯t even dream about it. If this is what you want, then let¡¯s not meet at all.¡± Without waiting for a reply, she pushed an obstinate sheep out of the way and shot up the hill like the master climber she really was.

 A Young Girl Decides to Kill, Part 2

    Wafaa spent the next two days helping around the camp, avoiding Malik (who was on vacation from the Thousand Year War), and taking photos with her mind of cool or funny things. On Thursday night she saw the brightest and greenest comet she¡¯d ever seen. In a rare display of good humor, her father said that he will find this fallen star and give it to Wafaa because she was the prettiest girl in the tribe and the queen of soot and fire. He then kissed her on the forehead, picked up a big gun and drove off with some men who ululated like jackals as they disappeared into the night.


    In her family, even the sweetest gestures had to be terrifying.


    <hr>


    On Friday morning, with many of the men still searching for the comet (Grandfather alone knew what they needed it for¡­), Wafaa snuck out of the women¡¯s tent and hastily made her way to the ruins that were her sovereign domain. She hopped from rock to rock and dodged through thick bushes and trees heavy with fruits and flowers.


    The air fluttered with myriad butterflies, as if the sky got jealous of the blossom and decided to compete with flowers of its own. A family ibexes grazing on a spot only they could reach looked at her curiously. ¡°Good morning!¡± Wafaa thought in their direction.


    Salim was already there, accompanied by his dog and his smile. He sat cross-legged at the shadow of the leaning wall and was deeply engrossed in his big and shiny phone. Wafaa didn¡¯t return his smile. She didn¡¯t know how.


    ¡°Ahlan wah sahaln!¡± Salim spread his hands for a hug, but Wafaa slipped away. She didn¡¯t trust him enough to allow him to hold her. He looked disappointed but not angry.


    They talked a little about politics and the weather. That is, Salim talked. Wafaa nodded, snatched colorful chocolates from a plastic bag, and occasionally grunted assent. Salim showed Wafaa some tricks he taught his dog. Wafaa pretended to be impressed even though she had no use for dogs or tricks. Wafaa struggled to think of something interesting she could tell him, but nothing came to mind. Her life was nine tenths boredom and one tenth unspeakable horror.


    Undeterred by the girl¡¯s solemnity, Salim proceeded to show her some videos on his phone. Like a sundial, the duo shifted around as Salim kept creeping nearer, forcing the girl to adjust her position to maintain a comfortable distance. Once his hand found her knee and she nearly ran away. Nearly.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Wafaa didn¡¯t care for watching firefights in Syria or traffic accidents in Russia¡­ she had seen enough of both at home. She enjoyed listening to pop songs from Lebanon and Egypt. The singer from Lebanon was so beautiful and talented¡­ Wafaa was instantly smitten. Wafaa tried to join in the chorus. She must have been quite bad at it, because Salim¡¯s smile turned into a grimace that faded only when the song was over.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Wafaa muttered. ¡°I ruined the song.¡±


    Salim laughed.


    They watched a few more videos in English. Salim guffawed and Wafaa forced a thin smile. She simply didn¡¯t see what was funny about a man stepping out of a car and being hit by another car, or a girl trying to jump into a lake and hitting a tree instead. She remembered her own recent tumble. It hurt. She did laugh at the farting cat though. It was funny because cats didn¡¯t fart like that in real life.


    Then Salim tried to kiss her, suddenly, without warning. Wafaa cried and pushed him away so hard he fell on his side. He instantly exploded into a torrent of apologies, claiming that this was just another bad joke. Wafaa finally agreed to meet him again next week, but only if he swore by his mother and by God that he will not try anything like that again.


    Salim reddened but did as she commanded.


    <hr>


    The men returned on Saturday more excited than Wafaa had ever seen them. Her father didn¡¯t bring her anything, but he did kiss her on the forehead and said that soon she will have a whole star just for her and everyone will call her Princess. Wafaa shrugged. She¡¯d rather have a phone than a star.


    The men then disappeared again, leaving the women and children with no stars but plenty of goats and laundry. Wafaa imagined the goats floating in space with spaceman helmets and giggled. She then went looking for her brother Nour. She wanted to fight someone and he was the only person in the camp smaller than she was yet not so small as to be protected by the women.


    Looking for her brother, she instead ran into Malik. He was packing his rucksack, looking forlorn. He was a handsome man, but he had evil eyes. Wafaa didn¡¯t like him or the loud bike he always rode.


    ¡°Hey cousin!¡± he cried. ¡°Did someone stain your honor?¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ No¡­¡± Wafaa said cautiously.


    ¡°Hm.¡± Malik shrugged. ¡°Let me know if someone does. I¡¯ll kill him.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ Thanks?¡±


    Malik blew some air through his nose, as if he didn¡¯t have the energy for a proper laugh. ¡°Yallah, I¡¯m gone. Hold the fort for me, cousin.¡± He leaned low, as if about to whisper a grave secret. ¡°You and I, we¡¯re the last two heroes.¡±


    ¡°Um¡­ Okay?¡±


    Malik kissed the top of Wafaa¡¯s head, hopped on his bike and rode into the sunset, music blasting so loud even the chickens tried to fly.

 A Young Girl Decides to Kill, part 3

    Despite now knowing why Salim was interested in her, Wafaa still came to their secret place. Salim had sweets and a phone and she was so very bored. She doubted Salim would want to meet her for a second time after she made it clear that there would be no kissing.


    Truth be told, she wasn¡¯t sure why he wanted to kiss her in the first place. She was a grim and joyless creature who rarely spoke and rarely smiled. She was dressed in an ugly old shirt, had no jewels or makeup, and was too dark to be pretty. Everyone said so. Only her parents said she was pretty, but that was just their duty, wasn¡¯t it?


    Maybe it was because no one else wanted to kiss him either. Maybe he thought that if he was nice to her and gave her things, she¡¯d kiss him as a reward? Surely, he¡¯d not break an oath. Oathbreakers became ghosts and suffered forever. Everybody knew that. Maybe he just liked talking and enjoyed her company because no one but her had the patience to listen to him?


    Oh, he must think her a perfect airhead, wowed by anything ranging from gossip from America to random quotes from the False Books of the False God. However, Wafaa wasn¡¯t as ignorant as she looked. An interview with her would win any researcher in Tel Aviv, Cairo or New York any science prize they desired. Then, they would be dragged screaming by things older than God into the dark gaps between the Seven Days. So, no. She would not tell Salim anything about herself. Not anything important, anyhow.


    She would just bask in his idle chatter like a cat in the sun and watch colorful music videos on his big, bright phone.


    <hr>


    Salim placed a hand on her knee. She didn¡¯t like it, but she didn¡¯t pull away this time. However, when he sidled to her, she felt drawn into a trap and sidled away. This time, the cause of his reddening was easy to read. It was frustration.


    Wafaa didn¡¯t wait for an apology. She may have been a bad girl, but she was also a witness to a great covenant. There was dignity in her station. She was a mistress of smoke and blood and wind. She was the queen of a distant star (potentially). She was not a whore. The idea of this man playing with her filled her with disgust. She felt nauseated just thinking about it. ¡°Hands off!¡± she cried and slapped his hand away. She then jumped over the wall and ran into the evening murk.


    Salim shouted something in her wake, but she pressed her hands to her ears and didn¡¯t look back. She ran through a narrow and uneven wadi where strange plants grew from the walls and the ground was crisscrossed with petrified roots. Naturally, she slipped and skinned her knee. This must have been why she was crying by the time she returned home.


    Her hair was full of dead leaves and dying flowers. Her pants were stained with blood and mud. Her eyes were red and blurry. Mazan tasily asked her where she was. Wafaa kicked him in the balls, much to the merriment of their older siblings who were lazing about the camp like a pride of lions fresh from the hunt.


    ¡°Mazan ya Mazan,¡± Abed sang. ¡°Our sister took your balls. The gazelle preyed on the lion. Put on a dress and go help mother cook. Wafaa ya Wafaa, come with us and help us make war upon the Jews.¡±


    His eyes glittering with tears of rage, Mazan lunged at Wafaa. She danced around him and scrambled for the women¡¯s tent. He will seek revenge later, but she didn¡¯t care. Girls weren¡¯t supposed to beat boys, but she was a very important girl and he was a very average boy. Like her father often said, add or remove a fish from the aquarium -- it changed nothing as long as the water remained clean.


    Mazen was a little fish. She was the water filter.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    <hr>


    Next Friday, Wafaa snuck to the ruins again. She didn¡¯t expect the shepherd to be there, but she thought¡­ no, it¡¯s a lie. She didn¡¯t think anything. She just came.


    She first saw his dog lazing in the sun. Then she heard their favorite song playing as loud as you will. Why did he come? Was he in love? No. Impossible. She was a dour and joyless creature with messy hair and loveless eyes.


    But no, maybe her eyes were fine. They were big and deep. The Charcoal Man supposedly intimated to the elders of the tribe that he liked her eyes. She hoped this meant he found them pretty and not, say, wanted to make a necklace out of them or add them to his mujaddara. Fahima once said that Wafaa was a cute little monkey. She said it with a smile, so Wafaa took it as a compliment.


    If she came to greet him, would Salim, tired of waiting for her heart to turn, force her to play? He looked harmless -- all smiles and hugs -- but as her cousin Malik liked to say, the bigger the smile, the sharper the knife. The man knew his knives! Once, after Malik had left, Abed pointed in the direction of a faraway cemetery. ¡°Can you see all the graves over there? Malik has killed more!¡±


    It was a bad idea from any conceivable direction... and yet there she was. If he¡¯d be nice to her, she¡¯d tell him that they will never see each other again but it¡¯s been nice knowing him. If he¡¯d be crass, she¡¯d steal his phone and his bag of candies and flee like a gazelle.


    Wafaa wondered why she couldn¡¯t see Salim yet. His gaudy clothing made him stand out in the wilderness like a belly dancer at a funeral. The same could not be said about her family, which melted into their surroundings like hyenas on the prowl.


    Wafaa heard dry leaves shifting behind her. She turned to flee only to run belly first into the hard fist of her oldest brother Abed. Gasping for air, she put little resistance as he dragged toward the ruins.


    Salim was on his knees, shielded from sight by what was once a homestead but was now just a pile of rubble. His loyal dog lay gasping, breathing its last shuddering breaths as it bled on the ancient stone floor. Malik loomed over him, grim and irate, as if he had better things to do but family was family and that was that.


    Her cousin Ibrahim was perched on a wall, scanning the horizon for unwelcome guests. Her younger brother Mazen peeked from behind a twisted cypress tree. His lips curled into a cruel half smile as he saw his sister dragged crying into view.


    Malik gave Abed a cautionary glance. ¡°Gentle, gentle, O cousin. She¡¯s important.¡±


    ¡°I told you she would come here!¡± Mazen was talking quickly, excitedly. Wafaa noted his lip was split and his cheek was red and blue. Trust was not won easily in her family.


    ¡°I saw them last week. They were kissing and hugging under the palm tree¡­ and you didn¡¯t believe me!¡±


    Malik looked at the boy sideways. ¡°Mazen, stop making noise.¡± His eyes returned to Wafaa. They looked sad. ¡°Cousin, we need to talk.¡±


    This was bad. They never called Malik unless things were bad. This is because wherever Malik went things became bad. Like Fahima said last year, ¡°Malik is the cure for incurable conditions.¡±


    The world swam before her eyes. Witness or not, her next few words would determine her fate. She didn¡¯t kiss Salim. She didn¡¯t even shake his hand, but that changed nothing. She snuck off to meet with a strange man on her own. That alone was a stain on her honor, a stain on all their honor. She was guilty. Stained dresses are washed with soap. Stained people were washed with blood.


    Why is it that whenever we need to think the fastest, the race inside our mind becomes a slog? Even as her mind reeled, Wafaa noticed Mazen pocketing Salim¡¯s discarded phone. No, Wafaa decided. I will not die today. Because if I died, how would I kill this little shit? Beware my vengeance, O Mazen ya Mazen, for only blood may wash dishonor. I too am a daughter of the Banu Safiru.


    ¡°Last week, this man tried to rape me.¡± Wafaa began, choking on tears of fury masqueraded as tears of shame. ¡°I wanted to make sure that he¡¯s here before calling you, thank you, Mazen, for being so brave in protecting my honor¡­¡±