Restoration

by J. F. Krause

  “Yes, what should we do after we finish checking out the church? That won’t take very long.” Emilio was almost incomprehensible to Ari who spoke French like a school boy, but to his mother who spoke it almost like a native, it was much more understandable. Magda translated for the benefit of the group.

  “I think you should turn your attention to gathering supplies when you get back. Mo…Magda, will your group work that out? It will be easier for you to translate anyway. Leila, do you speak French?”

  “No. I’m sorry, but my French is like yours. I speak German and English much better. I also speak a little Turkish and Kurdish. I can understand Tara if that helps.”

  “Absolutely that helps. I should find out what languages everyone speaks. How many of you understand English?”

  Magda, Leila, Falah, Samir, Joao, and Emilio all smiled and raised their hands. Samir chided Caleb and Hana for not raising their hands since they had both been studying English at school, and should be able to get by if need be. They shyly raised their hands as did Khalil.

  “You mean we can almost all speak English, at least a little? Okay, then. English and Arabic. We’ve got this.”

  With that, the meeting ended and the respective groups got started on their assignments.

  Ari was far more worried about going back to the marina than he let on. He particularly hated that he was taking Khalil, who was only 12. But childhood was quickly becoming a luxury in this world. He’d chosen Khalil because he was just a bit smaller than Caleb. He also hadn’t started the growth spurt that Caleb was well into and was much less clumsy. Caleb was prone to bump into things whereas Khalil seemed to appear out of nowhere. Even better, Khalil spoke only when it was necessary.

  They loaded their backpacks with water and something to eat for when they got hungry later. Ari had never walked to the Marina until the day before. In traffic, it could take as long as thirty minutes and sometimes more, but by foot, it should take no more than 90 minutes or so. Being careful took time and it was three hours before they arrived. As they started out he explained to Khalil about the need to constantly be on the alert for movement. He told the boy that he wanted him looking behind them as often as possible and to stay close enough that they could touch each other if they needed to. Talking was only an option as a last resort.

  In no time, they were a team. Khalil quickly learned to be his silent shadow. Early on, Khalil touched his elbow and pointed to a window where the curtain was fluttering, but the window was closed. Ari made note of where it was and mentally jotted down to come back and check to see if there was a survivor waiting to be found.

  Finally arriving at the bluff overlooking the marina, Aria was dismayed to see that virtually every yacht, catamaran, sailboat, or boat of any fashion had been scuttled. Even as he was looking at the disaster before him, he caught sight of a scruffy looking man holding a rifle running toward Khalil and him. Khalil had already seen the man and spoke for the first time.

  “Ari, there’s a man over there with a gun.”

  “Run, Khalil. I’m behind you. Don’t look back.”

  They ran knowing full well that their lives depended on it. Ari didn’t look back either but he heard shots and expected any minute to feel a bullet in the back. Time seemed to move slowly and he felt like he was trying to run in a dream but barely moving. Following Khalil, he didn’t realize until they made the turn into the alley that they were trapped. It was only a parking space. There was no time to double back and as they both turned, he found himself facing a grinning, bearded man who raised his gun and fired. Ari had closed his eyes expecting to open them to see his beautiful Elena looking back at him. But he didn’t feel the shot. He turned to look at Khalil who had tightly clenched his eyes shut but was still standing unscathed. He turned back to his attacker just in time to see him drop to his knees with half his head covered in blood. His mind didn’t comprehend what he was seeing and he stood, openmouthed as he felt Khalil take his hand. Another dirty, scruffy, bearded man had taken the first one’s place. But this one’s tears were visible even from where Ari and Khalil stood.

  In shock, both he and Khalil were fastened in place as a second, younger killer walked toward them and then dropped to his knees as he placed his weapon on the ground at Ari’s feet.

  “Please forgive me. I didn’t want to kill anyone. I’m sorry.” The now disarmed man became a sobbing boy right before Ari’s eyes.

  The boy-soldier became smaller by the second. His tears seemed to melt him into a diminutive supplicant doing pennance. That was exactly what he was, but Ari couldn’t wrap his mind around this new reality. Khalil, on other hand, was much faster to accept what his eyes were seeing.

  It was Khalil who spoke first as he picked up the proffered rifle. “Why did you kill that man?”

  “Because he was going to kill you. I’ve had enough of killing and death. I’m sorry.”

  At last Ari found his tongue. “We have to leave. Are there more men like that?”

  “Two. There are nine others, but they are at other marinas. I’m sorry that we ruined your boat. You were going to leave weren’t you? I’m sorry. There will be more of them in a few days. They will kill you if you don’t leave. I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

  “Do you know where the others are? Do you know where it’s safe to go?” Now that Ari knew they weren’t surrounded by terrorists, he needed information about what was happening in the rest of the city.

  “Yes. I will help you if you will let me. I’m sorry about what I did to all the boats. I’ve never killed anyone before. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “Ok, we need to go. You can come with us if you want to. I don’t know what just happened, but I don’t think you’re a killer. Khalil, get the other gun, and let’s get home. We need to find another way out of Beirut.”

  The young man kept up with them holding his head down in remorse the entire way to the apartment. They walked in silence. Khalil led the way and Ari brought up the rear of their little column. As they passed the building with the fluttering curtains, Ari once again determined to send Samir and Caleb to look for the survivor inside.

  Eventually, they were back at the apartment and climbing the stairs. Using only their flashlights, they felt like they were in a mine shaft. At the apartment door, Ari knocked and announced they were coming in with a ‘guest’. As they entered, they were met by his Mother, Tara, and three children. Standing next to Helene and Dietrich was a somber little boy of about four. He had been crying, but now was recovered enough to just stare. Over his mother’s shoulder Ari noticed that they had battery powered lamps strategically place around the apartment so as to provide enough light to move about, but not so much light as to call attention to the apartment. Barely visible in the main room, he saw an older man and two young women, each apparently in their twenties. No one spoke, but he could see in his Mother’s eyes that she was curious about their scruffy guest.

  “Mother, this is Ali. He saved our lives. I’ll explain when we have a chance to talk alone.” He spoke in English since no one was likely to understand except Khalil who already knew the story.

  “Samir and Caleb will be back shortly. They have been very busy and successful, as you can see. The others are all at the church. They have been taking our supplies over there. As soon as Caleb and Samir come back, we will go over ourselves. We’ve been waiting for you. It looks like you had an exhausting day. You look beat, and Khalil looks just as bad.

  After brief introductions, Ari and Magda went out to the veranda to be alone. He told her what had happened and expected to be chastised for bringing a terrorist home, but Magda was surprisingly pragmatic about it.

  “I guess if he wanted you dead, he’d have let his comrade kill you. Then again, maybe he just wanted to know where you came from so he could come here to kill us all. But of course, why kill the other man. How old is he?”

  “I don’t know anything about him. His Arabic is a little basic. I’m not sure it’s his
first language.”

  “I’ll find out. Let’s bring him out here. Tara’s pretty astute and she spent a lot of time avoiding his fellow terrorists. I’d like to talk to her before she learns who he is for sure.”

  “I think we’re too late.” Tara was at the sliding door looking very agitated.

  “He’s one of them. Why is he here? I won’t stay with him in the house. He’s a killer.”

  “He’s a boy. And he saved Ari and Khalil’s life. He also knows where the bad guys are so we can avoid them. We need to talk to him. And we won’t take him to the church until we know we can trust him.”

  “Tie him up, then. And I want to be here when you question him. They are all animals!”

  “Okay. Ari, we really should tie him up until we know if we can trust him. Until everyone can trust him.”

  Ari wasn’t about to argue with anyone who didn’t trust the boy. He didn’t know anything about him and for all he knew he could be wearing a suicide vest. Back in the apartment, Ari found some duct tape and told the completely docile boy what he was about to do. Ali made no effort to resist. He was beaten.

  He took Ali out to the veranda where Magda and Tara waited. No one had seen him tie Ali up, and since there were curtains on all the windows to hide the light, no one from inside could see outside on the veranda as Magda conducted their own tiny inquisition.

  “Ali, how old are you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “And where do you come from, Ali?”

  “I was based in Syria, at least for the last few months. Before that I was in Mosul.”

  “No, Ali. Where were you raised? You speak Arabic with a French accent, I think. Marseille?”

  “No. I was born and raised in Brussels. I just came to Syria a year ago. I thought it would be my chance to fight for Islam. But I was wrong. As soon as I got here I found out we were no better than anyone else. In Belgium I felt like I was nothing and that everyone looked at me as if I was just a piece of garbage. I hated my life, but no one ever tried to kill me. When I got to Mosul I saw the way we treated everyone who didn’t do exactly what we told them to do. We killed everyone, even little children and girls who did nothing to us. They turned girls into slaves and women were nothing but servants.

  I watched them burn young girls alive because they wouldn’t have sex with our soldiers. They threw people off of towers and stoned them for nothing. We were worse than anyone else, but I couldn’t leave or they would kill me. And if I went back to Belgium and they found out where I had been, they would have sent me to prison, maybe for life.

  Then, a few days before everyone died, all the men in our group were gathered together and given a sugar cube to swallow. After that, we were ordered to come to Beirut to wait for the day of judgment on the infidels. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that. That is what they said. There were maybe 10,000 of us scattered about the city. They told us that everyone would die except for those that God loved the best and that we would be the true soldiers. I think they knew that everyone was going to die because they had already set the disease loose on the world. They killed everyone so they could honor God. Who would honor God by killing people? But when it happened, even their own soldiers died. Of all the men who came from my post in Syria, I was one of only 11 who lived. I wish I had died with everyone else, but I didn’t even get sick like the other soldiers. God didn’t do this, they did.

  I knew as soon as I left my family in Belgium that I made a terrible mistake when I saw how they killed the men and boys and raped the women. I swear I have never raped anyone, and I’ve never killed anyone until today when I killed the man who was going to kill your son and that boy. I don’t deserve to live. Do with me as you will.”

  “I don’t think anyone here will want to kill you, but they may not want you to stay with us. Where are all the fighters now?”

  Over the next hour, Ali told them everything he knew. It wasn’t all that useful since he was just a disillusioned fighter, and his comrades knew he was regretful of his decision to join them. They knew that many of the young men and women who came to them from Europe and North American backgrounds quickly regretted their decision. Ali was, in fact, more captive than volunteer, and it was only through coercion and threats that they were able keep him and many of the others in line.

  It was also becoming increasingly clear, even to Tara, that Ali was borderline suicidal and would have gladly jumped to his death from the veranda had he not felt some obligation to make amends for his earlier murderous intentions followed by his cowardice. Once he saw that there were other survivors, something he had been led to believe was impossible, he took his chance to flee and do something to make up for his complicity.

  One big surprise to Magda and Ari was that the surviving terrorists were so few and so poorly organized. Even with their few days’ headstart on the disease, the terrorists had been completely blindsided by the lethality of their manufactured killer virus. About the only thing Ari’s little band of survivors had to fear at the moment was running into one of Ali’s former comrades. The terrorists had no organized plan in place, at least not yet, and not in Beirut. They seemed to be playing everything by ear.

  Ali couldn’t predict what might happen in a few more days since he wasn’t privy to any inside information. All he knew was where he had been and about how many of the terrorist fighters had been with him. From what he told them, it appeared that the terrorists had survived in higher numbers due to whatever was in or on the sugar cubes he and his fellow fighters had received a few days before everyone died. Interestingly, despite taking the sugar cube, most of the surviving fighters had gotten sick along with all the others who died, but they had recovered.

  When Samir came back, Magda cautioned him not to react to Ali’s presence. Her concern was unnecessary since it turned out that his own experiences of Ali’s extreme faction of Muslims was very limited. He certainly didn’t trust them, but he was even more mistrustful of the Shia and Sunni militia fighters in their vicinity rather than the ones fighting in Syria and Iraq.

  One thing Samir did was to produce a pair of handcuffs from his backpack. They quickly applied these new restraints to Ali and led him to the now unused den where he was safely secured with both of the female newcomers pressed into watch duty. All they had to do was make sure the door remained closed since Ali was not only handcuffed, he was handcuffed around an arm of the desk chair at Ari’s computer desk. It wouldn’t stop him from moving, but it would stop him from moving fast.

  On this return trip, Samir and Caleb had found a 14 year old boy. He was nervous and very distraught. Ari thought he must have been a quintessential nerd in his previous life. Despite his anxious state of mind, Samir suggested Ari and Magda have a conversation with him since he had been gathering a lot of the available internet information before the lights went out. Then, at Ari’s request Samir and Caleb took off once more to check on the address where Khalil had spotted the flutter of curtains.

  Those remaining at Ari’s apartment planned to pack up what they thought they would need and then make the short trek to St. Sophia’s. Samir and Caleb would meet them there with or without the curtain flutterer.

  While Ari organized the move to St. Sophia’s, Magda got to know their very own computer nerd. Beyond being captivated by all things technical, Tariq was a very secular Muslim who spoke Arabic, French, and English. He’d come from a fairly well-to-do family that had made most of their money in real estate construction, particularly in the rebuilding of Beirut over the last couple of decades. He’d been close to his parents and his younger brother, all of whom died in his presence. He’d also been in communication with some friends who suddenly disappeared from his computer screen. After that, he’d spent the first hours weeping alone in his bedroom but eventually, he turned to his only remaining friend, his computer. Over the hours before the power blackout, he’d learned as much as he could from the group in California. Most of what he learned was also known to Ari’s group, but he also lear
ned that the leader of the California group was a teacher named Bobby, and that they would be making their way out of Los Angeles by using motor homes. Another thing that Bobby recommended was that every adult who could handle a weapon should be taught how to shoot and become somewhat familiar with simple self-defense maneuvers.

  While Magda talked with Tariq, she also helped him begin to come to terms with his totally new circumstances in life. One of Magda’s gifts was empathy. She could get people to reveal personal details about themselves that most of them would never have openly discussed on their own. She could listen to someone drop the subtlest hint about an interest or opinion and manage to gently pry the door open until she knew all there was to know. She’d done it to Ari all his life, but she also never used it against people or for her own personal gain, or almost never. She had managed to get Ari to abandon his plans to stay in the United States after he finished his medical training. And it was she who had introduced him to Elena, Ari’s deceased wife. She considered that her greatest triumph. Elena was Greek Orthodox, she was educated and from a successful family. She was also a very distant relative, something that was important in this very fractured city that was held together by loyalty and family ties. She viewed Elena as part of the glue that would keep Ari from reconsidering his decision to stay in Beirut. With Elena’s large family and her connection to the Haddads, it helped cement Ari’s Beirut connection that much more. After all, Magda and Aristotle had been fourth cousins, a very comforting connection in Magda’s world view.

  With the sun down, they decided to make their way to the church using a couple of flashlights that they needed only intermittently. The road was mostly clear if they went around the park square in a counter-clockwise direction. It should take them less than ten minutes, but with no one knowing what to expect, it would definitely take longer and be very stressful.