MARIEL

11~ The Blindfold ~

'We are proud of you, Ahdam,' Haleef said. His large arm encircled his wife's waist as they stood before the baskets of colorful fruits and vegetables. In his hand was a pepper, and Haleef bounced it rhythmically in his palm, happily. He flashed a large, magnificent smile towards Dina.

Ahdam also smiled and then looked at the food. He was proud of himself as well, and he knew this was a gift. To be able to use it to help hungry families, help feed his family, take pressure from his mother and father's shoulders, was a gift as well.

Some of the villagers were coming. They were coming because they were proud of him as well, and eager to partake in the food he had helped to grow with his ability to control the environment. Here, in the village, the Palestinians did not judge his ability. They did not judge him. They welcomed him, and they were grateful for the generosity of the Kaseem family.

Ahdam remembered watching their faces as they sunk their teeth into the fresh produce. He remembered seeing their eyes, seeing a gratefulness that he knew had not been in their minds for quite some time. It was hard in West Bank, being a Palestinian with a home constantly threatened by Israeli settlers, and the Israeli government. He wondered if it had always been this bad, having that threat over their heads, but he did not want to think about it.

The boy wanted to revel in the knowledge that his gift, be it from nature or Allah, was a blessing to his fellow people. Perhaps, one day, he could see all famines of the world disappear. Perhaps, he could help others in different regions of the earth. First, though, he would help his own people.

And he would never help the Israelis. They had proven that they were able to take care of themselves, by pillaging and stealing, destroying and taking the lands of the Palestinian people. When the time came, Israel would not receive his help. His gift was not theirs to take.

'Ahdam,' Haleef said, approaching his son and resting his hands on his shoulders. 'You must run.'

Ahdam turned and searched his father's face. His mother stood beside him, trembling, and both of their faces expressed fear. Something beyond fear... terror. Their faces expressed terror.

'Ahdam!' Haleef said, pushing the boy from him. 'Run!'

The earth began to shake, and he heard screeching sounds, like tires squealing with protest, and then the earth shook more violently, and the boy was thrown to the air with a vicious force.

His eyelids struggled to flutter open, but a cloth barrier kept the small skinfolds from fully lifting.

Blindfolded.

As his mind came to awareness, Ahdam realized that he was lying flat on his back. Multiple straps, or something, held him down and pinned his arms to his sides. The binds fastened him to a hard, cushioned object of some sort, strapped over his chest, and then across his abdomen, his hips, his thighs, his legs, and his feet... were his feet strapped separately?

Ahdam's body felt numb, tingly, as if he had been sleeping for much too long, longer than a boy was supposed to sleep. Haleef had always said -

'Rest only as much as you need, because the world needs you more.'

It was then that Ahdam tried to move, and realize he could not. He moved his fingers, dug them into the bedding on which he was strapped, and tried to slip his arms free of the barriers that held him down. The straps burned the skin on his forearms where he attempted to wriggle, twist, and turn his body free, but his limbs merely jolted against the materials that imprisoned his body. As his eyelids fluttered against the blindfold, the cloth scratched his eyeballs, and Ahdam began to gasp. Air felt denied to him.