Welcome to Nowhere by Elizabeth Laird

Author:Elizabeth Laird [Laird, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781509840489
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The main road leading out of the village gave a good view right across the plain towards Daraa. I’d expected Uncle Mahmud to drive straight down it, but he swerved suddenly to the right and headed along the bumpy farm track that led to the fields behind the village. As the truck turned I could see beyond the cab, which had blocked our view. Four military vehicles, which a short time earlier had been invisible in clouds of dust in the distance, were now frighteningly close. There was a big gun mounted on the back of one of them, and the others were packed with soldiers.

I shivered at the sight of them. Beside me, Musa too was trembling violently.

‘Get down, all of you!’ hissed Eman. ‘Quick, Omar, help me with the plastic sheet!’

I saw at once what she meant. It was really lucky that Jaber hadn’t had time to empty the back of the truck properly. Along with the tools, as well as a few sacks of fertilizer, lay a large, blue plastic sheet, loosely folded, which Uncle Mahmud used to tie over the open back of the truck when it was fully loaded. I grabbed it, and a moment later, Musa, Eman, Fuad and I, along with all our bags, were huddled underneath it. The last time it had been used was to cover a pile of donkey and goat dung, and it stank, but I hardly noticed the smell. I was too busy checking all round the edges to make sure that nothing was showing.

There was a shout from behind us and the truck juddered to a stop.

‘I’m frightened, Eman,’ said Fuad, in a high, piping voice.

‘Shh, habibi.’ She wrapped her arms round him. ‘Pretend we’re playing hide-and-seek. Keep very still and quiet.’

Footsteps were crunching over the rough stones of the track towards the truck.

Two men, I thought. Perhaps three.

A loud rap on the side of the truck’s cab made me jump.

‘Papers,’ a deep voice barked.

‘Good morning, brother,’ came Uncle Mahmud’s slow voice. There was a pause, then the sound of rustling paper.

Someone coughed and spat, then the deep voice spoke again.

‘Where are you going? What’s in the back of the truck?’

Footsteps came round to the tailboard, and there was a grating sound as someone tried to force the stiff bolt that held it in place.

‘Inshallah, my brother and I are going to our field, down there,’ Uncle Mahmud said. ‘We’re spreading fertilizer today.’

I could hardly breathe. My eyes were squeezed so tightly that my eyeballs ached.

‘You’re taking that little kid to the field?’ the man said disbelievingly.

Uncle Mahmud coughed nervously.

‘Our sons have all been called up, sir. My brother’s wife has to help out. How are we to feed our nation if the fields aren’t farmed? We can’t leave the child at home. She’s happy down there playing with a pile of stones.’

‘Corporal!’ the man said. ‘If you can’t get that tailboard down, climb up the side and take a look.’

Musa’s arm jerked violently. I grabbed it and pinned it to the floorboards, praying that the movement hadn’t been noticed.

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