Life-Line

Final Goodbyes

The next morning, his father carried her body through the streets, to the graveyard. He laid her down, smoothing her blue woollen shroud, and began digging. The boy stood and wept, as the hole that she was to be laid grew bigger and bigger. Finally, exhausted, His father climbed out of the hole.'Papa?' questioned the boy, 'is she with Allah now?' The muscled figure of the father wiped away a tear,'Yes Rahim, she is in paradise, where no worries will trouble her.' He squatted down, so he was level with the young boy,'And we have to stay strong, for her, OK?' he reached a scarred rough hand over to the boy, and wiped away a tear as it ran a course across his skin. Rahim nodded his head slowly, and embraced his father tightly.

'OK then Rahim, say goodbye to Mama' he could barely control the sobs that racked his body. The boy knelt down over the shroud and whispered 'I love you Mama'. The father lifted the body, his arms strained, and laid her carefully into the dug grave. He quickly filled the hole back in and laid a bunch of Blue flowers a top the mound. He took the boy by the hand and they began the walk back to the house, where the bags had been packed. 'Papa?' the boy asked again. 'What now?' The father looked distantly into the sky for a brief second, then replied to the boys eager question, 'now, son,we are going to Europe, where it is safe.' The boy perked Up, and said enthusiastically,'I've heard of Europe!' The father nodded, looking down at his cherubic features. Ruffling his hair, he carried on leading the boy back to where they were staying.

When they arrived, the father took the two canvas bags that sat in the front room, and hauled them to the front step. They sat there, exchanging glances and smiles, the hole in the front of the house a constant reminder of the events that will plague them for the rest of their lives. After a long period of time, when the sun was dipping low below the horizon, a truck pulled up to the house. The back was packed with gaunt faces, lined with pain. The father got up, and paced towards the passenger seat of the truck. In this seat sat a man, middle aged maybe, who glanced lazily at the oncoming man. He wore a decaying sneer that grew as he saw the coins clasped in the fathers hand. He held out a palm for the coins, 'you got the money?' the father nodded. The man snatched the coins from his hand and counted them. satisfied with the result, he held out his hand again, this time for a handshake,'pleasure doing business with you sir, I'm Aali' the father rejected the handshake, and rushed back to where Rahim and the bags sat. He hoisted the bags over his shoulders, and motioned to his son to follow him. They hopped into the back of the truck, a tarpaulin sheet draped over the frame, and secured with some flimsy ropes. The truck set off, and Rahim watched his home disappear behind him, along with the village he had known and grown up in, framed with the sunset.