WHEN THE FIRST SHELLS fall nearby, the early afternoon prayer is underway. I am explaining to young Khaled why his mistake was due to the incorrect verb usage.
“You wrote, It rain in autumn. It should be, It rains in autumn. If the subject is he, she or it, the correct verb is rains, not rain. You must put an ‘s’ at the end of the simple verb.”
He looks at me with his bulging, bewildering eyes. I may as well have spoken Greek or Japanese. Poor kid. Why was he placed in Intermediate 2 if he still hasn’t mastered the basic level of English?
Abdulrahman explains rules of grammar to Khaled in Arabic. Anyone’s guess whether he is any clearer on it.
Another shell falls even closer, shaking the windows and rattling the foundation. The ensuing screams and commotion from the hallway means the class is over. Despite being instructed not to panic during such emergencies, the students jump from their desks and run like hell, their flight like a stampede fleeing a slaughterhouse. Arms and legs of pupils and faculty alike swing in every direction. The warning sirens merge with the noise of bombs, muting the prayer echoing from the local Mosque.
By the time I reach the hallway, the chaotic atmosphere is equivalent to a maelstrom amidst a wild ocean. The destruction would plunge either the blind or the deaf into equal despair.
My demeanor is antithetical to the enveloping mayhem. I stroll towards my office as a carefree individual on a Sunday afternoon.
Shouldn’t be long now. Fingers crossed.
***
The year prior I unraveled from a failed relationship. Devastated, I looked for relief in all the wrong places. Dive bars with frequent happy hours, promiscuous partners, cheap white powder I could snort to numb the anguish. The sleepless hours and late nights got in the way of my work. Once my boss noticed, my employment at Green Leaf Publications was terminated quicker than a condemned man in the Bible Belt.
The following winter was the dreariest one yet. Days dragged on endlessly, weeks lasted longer than months, and a month was an eternity compressed. Friends and colleagues at first grew distant, and ultimately, scarce. My existence was isolation and solitude. There was very little to live for.
Only after the last line was snorted, and final paycheck spent, the so-called little became absolute nothing. So I looked for a way out. In a pistol barrel, in a razor-bathtub combo, in a line of rugged rope.
But contemplating self demise was one thing, and following through another. I was a coward, a brazen one. Death I would gladly welcome, yet I could not pull the trigger, run the blade across my wrist, nor jump off a chair with the rope around my neck. Life kept throwing curveballs; I kept swinging and missing.
Thankfully, American warmongering was alive and well during this period. Good old Uncle Sam was bombing a helpless Middle Eastern state to enrich its Military Industrial donors.
I decided to put my degree to good use, and ventured to the land of camels, bedouins and timeless Mosques. Just another lowly paid instructor making a difference in an oppressed land. Once there, death would find me, instead of me searching for it. That it would be at the hands of my own government made it all the more appealing.
***
The school is aflame by the time I’m outside, embracing the unfolding apocalypse with open arms. My view in every direction is accentuated by the inferior mirage effect. Cars, distant buildings, fleeing citizens all appear to be floating, as if in mid-air. The approaching combat aircraft reaches me before its sound, creating a deafening boom that leaves me deaf. The silence overwhelms me, like a pleasant breeze on perspired flesh.
The plane’s missile glides gently downwards, like a flower petal dropped from heaven. I squint with all my might, attempting to make out the projectile’s label while it gracefully descends, as if in slow motion.
Yup: a star and stripes logo across it.
Nothing rain like American made.
Rains, I mean. Rains.
— BARLOW CRASSMONT
Barlow Crassmont has lived in the USA, Eastern Europe, Middle East and China, where he currently resides. When not teaching or writing, he dabbles in juggling, solving the Rubik’s Cube, and learning other languages.