MARIEL

2~ Ahdam ~

January 5th, 2019: Jerusalem Governorate of West Bank

The boy could feel the vibrations before he even heard them, and he knew the monsters were arriving in town. Even though he lived less than a quarter mile north of the tiny Palestinian village of Khan Al-Ahmar, he could always tell when the monsters arrived to the village.

His name was Ahdam Kaseem. He was eleven years old and mute. His parents, as well as the villagers he knew, never explained to him why he could not speak. Many times, he had attempted, but nothing would expel from his mouth. Oddly, he had made peace with it, and almost felt that, if given the option, he would not change his circumstance. No one mocked him. In fact, he was the most respected individual in the little village. He knew why, but he could not explain how.

The boy had an unexplained gift, but he had learned to use it for the benefit of the villagers. Near the pen where his father kept the goat, a medium sized tent was located behind his family's lopsided, wooden shack. Within the tent, Ahdam's father planted seeds for multiple types of vegetables, and then it was Ahdam who determined the outcome of the seeds. It did not matter what time of year the seeds were planted, for Ahdam could control the temperature within the necessary area and the crops would continue to grow due to the gradual change in the area atmosphere. Once the crop was complete, the other villagers would humbly offer what they could (which was not much because the entire town had very little) in exchange for food.

Most of the villager men worked for minimum wage several hours and miles away in Jerusalem, which forced some of them to journey on foot for over three hours as most of the families had no vehicle. Many would earn their money, and their wives would travel a shorter distance to the next nearest village in West Bank to shop the market. This was all too familiar for the Kaseem family. Ahdam's father, Haleef, worked construction in Jerusalem, and so the boy rarely saw him, but when he did he never heard him complain. Ahdam could tell that Haleef missed his family, and that the long days of walking to Israeli Checkpoint 300 drained him of what energy he may have once had, but Ahdam only ever heard words of praise and gratitude from his lips. Haleef was fearless in the boy's eyes... until the monsters threatened to come. Only then would Ahdam see fear in the eyes of his father, when Haleef murmured about the monsters to his wife in the flicker of the lamp fire at night.

This morning, Ahdam felt the vibrations and he opened his brown eyes. He scanned the shack and noticed the empty cots, realizing he was alone. The morning was gray and dim with limited sun. Quietly, he sat up and kicked his legs from the blankets. His tan feet struck the cool, brown earth and he stood up and pulled his arms upwards to a full stretch. Usually, his mother was here at this time to provide him breakfast, but it was Saturday and she was most likely at the market. Ahdam enjoyed the days his mother went to the market. Sometimes she would bring him a flavorful treat... usually once a month.

The unsturdy, wooden door creaked as he stepped into the dimly lit morning. The sky was gray, almost white, and the sun hid behind the thick clouds. Ahdam cocked his head towards the goat pen and immediately saw his father. Smiling a little, the boy's feet padded softly towards the pen where Haleef stood feeding the goat. The man turned as soon as Ahdam approached the wooden enclosure.

"Good morning, Ahdam," Haleef said in Arabic, smiling. "How did you sleep?"

Ahdam nodded, and then gestured in the direction of the town. Inquisitively, he raised his eyebrows. He was a cute child with light brown skin and short, cropped hair, and his teeth were incredibly white when he smiled. He stood just over five feet, and he had a lanky, but sturdy body that exhibited signs of fast approaching puberty.

Haleef followed his eyes towards the town and the familiar fear returned to his eyes. "Yes. They came back." He leaned against the wooden fence and folded his arms. His burly arms bulged from the dirty, blue shirt he wore. His dark, curly beard was thick and its length almost touched the top of his chest. "I pray to Allah that He will deliver us from this madness."