Little Mountain by Elias Khoury

Author:Elias Khoury
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-312-42716-0
Publisher: Picador

The last option is me, I told her, our footsteps striking the streets of the dark town. Clothes rustling, words spoken in silence. Cruising ahead of us, a Land-rover filled with ammunition and food. Walking along, whispering to each other and listening to the whispers of the villagers gazing at us in awe. Pleased with ourselves, full of pride, just as we used to dream we would be when we were little. We are little but we are just as proud as we should be.

A long line of fighters who’ve come from everywhere to the wedding that hasn’t started. We filed into the seraglio. They said it, alone, could fit the hundreds of fedayeen that’ve come from all over. Candle-lights, long corridors. We moved in and on in, not understanding where we were. We found ourselves in a very large, long room with high windows fenced off with barbed wire.

—We’re in the prison. We came to fight and find ourselves in prison. On principle, I don’t agree. We can’t sleep in the prison, even if it is empty. No way—even if we abolish prisons. A feda’i can’t sleep in prison. That’s a matter of principle. I’m not about to agree to it.

Salem, B-7 rocket-launcher in hand, his face trembling against the prison wall, his voice raised: I will not sleep in prison. I came to fight and I won’t sleep here.

Talal walked up to the circle gathering around Salem. Standing like a lecturer, speaking unhurriedly: this isn’t a matter of principle, it’s a practical matter. There isn’t a place big enough for us other than this prison. Besides, this is magnificent. Imagine —emerging from the prison to destroy all prisons. Revolution beginning from the prison. I don’t think this thing was planned but it’s happening as if it were. It’s as if it were saying that it’s prison which will destroy all prisons.

You’re a romantic, I told him.

I’m a romantic, he answered me.

The mountains that stretched away stretched on and on. We must get to know the area really well, said Nabeel.

The debate expanded. Small groups forming, distributed about the corners and the corridors. The wan light paling further. The shells merging with sleepiness. Then, by around nine o’clock, the entire hall was asleep. Candles asleep, I asleep and Talal asleep beside me. Even the shells seemed to want to sleep. Talal woke me up.

— Do you know why we’re falling asleep so quickly?

— Fatigue, I said to him, my voice jumbled with yawning and drowsiness.

— No, it’s not fatigue. It’s prison. Prison means sleep. Lots of little problems, then you escape into sleep. When you sleep, you can disregard all prohibitions. You escape to something that is yours alone. Sleep is mine alone. No one can share it with me. I sleep as I please. I dream. Toss and turn. That’s why we sleep and why prisoners sleep.

— But I’m not a prisoner.

— Of course, we’ll destroy the prisons. But in order to destroy the prisons we had to go to prison.

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