Read Online De Niro's Game by Rawi Hage - Free Book Online Page B

trees and plains, and a house — an open house, and shadows and a sun that travelled in a straight line and not in a circle, and a moon that stayed still and was lit at night by candles, by stars, by nothing but tiny holes through which light passed and landed on an ocean. The earth smelled of wetness, but the grass was brown, dying and changing and floating on saltywater. I got up and walked, and I met a fisherman; we passed each other in utter silence — not a glance, not a glimpse. I had a dream of a table, a woman with dyed hands, and a broken chair, all under one roof. I saw doors that I had to open. I walked toward the first door and pulled it with all my strength; I entered and rushed toward the second door, but it was locked. I stayed there for days, begging the door to open. Then I fell asleep and dreamt of the door opening. A naked woman with a bag smiled at me and said, Take off your garments. I looked down and saw my robe turning to water. I gathered the water and gave it to her. She held it in her hands and poured it in my eyes. Now, she said, go through the third door and if you see your father tell him that you left your garment. I saw two paths. I will take the narrow path, I said. I had another dream, and in that dream I was in a river; I held a piece of bread that I threw to a bird. I crossed the river and found the fourth door. I pushed it with all my might, but it wouldn’t open. I touched it gently with my finger, and it opened. I entered into a garden with a chair and a book. I sat on the chair and smoked. Then I sang, and another door opened to me. I rushed through it and passed through emptiness and no trees, no tables, no chairs, no bird wing, no moon nor lights, no thoughts. I stood still and closed my eyes. I dreamt of a large flower. I smelled it. I climbed its stem and made a bed out of its petals. Then I slept and had another dream, a vision of a friend immersed in a pool of light and blood.
    GEORGE AND I drove back, the road ahead of us brightened by the single light that shone under our numb chests, our knuckles, and our heavy, red eyes. We drove toward the darkenedcity lit by dim lanterns hung on barricades. The city’s feeble rays bounced off shiny soldiers’ boots.
    When I arrived home, the phone rang, but I did not pick it up. I lay down on my bed. I could not sleep. I pulled out the gun from beneath my shirt and hid it under the mattress. Noises came from below: cat fights, occasional rushing feet, murmurs, quiet murmurs that entered my mind and my dreams and turned into familiar words.
    Suddenly my mother’s hands were rocking me, pulling my cover and begging me to wake up.
    Come down; they are targeting the neighbourhood. Come down and away from the window. How can you fall asleep like that? The bombs are all around us.
    Nahla, our neighbour, was with her, and she pleaded with me as well. Have pity on your mother. Come down with us to the shelter. She has waited for you all day and all night. How can you be so thoughtless? She did not sleep all night. Where were you?
    I will stay between these two walls, I said. You two go down; I’ll be fine here.
    No, come down! We need a man in the shelter. Come down now, my love. On your grandfather’s grave, come down!
    We heard a loud blast. A bomb fell nearby. The women shrieked and threw themselves on the floor. Close! This is a close one, they said and got up and ran into the hallway. Glass and chunks of stone fell from above, onto the street. My mother was shaking. I looked in her eyes and noticed that wrinkles had surfaced to channel her tears down her sunken cheeks.
    The kids, my kids! Nahla cried.
    I grabbed Nahla’s hand to stop her from running outside. The second one must be coming, I said. Don’t move!
    Nahla tried to run, but I held her. She fought in my arms like a captive beast. Then she scratched my face and escaped. I followed her down the stairs. In hysterics, she shouted her kids’ names