The Blasphemer by Waleed Al-Husseini

Author:Waleed Al-Husseini
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arcade Publishing
Published: 2017-04-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter IV

Freedom!

Around ten o’clock at night, my father and I were in his car on the way to the house. As we drove, he explained to me that the director of Intelligence had summoned him by phone while he was at the barbershop. He had been working late because he had so many clients in the days leading up to Eid. He had come directly from the shop to take care of the paperwork and bring me home. No one else in my family knew.

I will never forget the date: September 3, 2011. That was the day I saw my family again after ten months of detention. My father dropped me off: he had to go straight back to the barbershop. I opened the door and stopped in the entrance hall a long moment, breathing in the smell of my family home and all of my childhood. I ran my hand over the walls; I wanted to kiss them. My ten months of detention had felt like an eternity. My heart began to race as I climbed the stairs.

I opened the door of the living room, where my mother, my brothers, and sisters were watching television. I threw my arms open wide and shouted: “I am free!” Until my dying day, I will never forget the image of my mother, overcome with joy and calling out my name: “Waleeeeeed!” She ran to me and hugged me tightly to her, my brothers and sisters followed, and I collapsed onto the floor under them.

My mother hastily made dinner and a fresh fruit juice, and I spent the entire night—right until suhur, which is the predawn meal before a day of fasting during Ramadan—telling them everything that had happened over the previous ten months. My mother spread the news of my return to our closest friends, and they promised to come to the house after Eid. At dawn, I ate suhur with my family and decided to sleep all day to respect their fasting. It was the last day of Ramadan; it wasn’t too much to ask.

On the day of Eid, the house filled with visitors. Friends, neighbors, and relatives came to extend their best wishes for the feast day while using the occasion to celebrate my release and ask about my plans. I told them I would have to wait until the end of the trial, set for the following month, before making any decisions.

After Eid was over, I began to leave the house, always with one of my brothers or a close friend or relation. I was anxious to see how people who disapproved of me would react. Passersby in the street called me the kafir—unbeliever—but were not aggressive, limiting themselves to probing looks, whispers, and questions about my release. Everyone seemed convinced by the rumor that I was a paid agent of the West; my release, after all, was proof enough for them. The rumor had been spread by certain members of my extended family, in particular by a first

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