Tuesday, November 24, 2009
BACKYARDS by Firas
BACKYARDS
by Firas Abou Fakher
CHAPTER 1
“Son, bring the hose closer!”
Shifting, a boy of 12 or 13 looks towards the far end of the field. Dragging the hose seemed worthless, he knew the water would dry up in a hour or so, but he says nothing.
“Where have you been this morning? you know its watering day.”
Nothing.
“Nothing!”
The son, shifting, drags the hose to the far end of the field, looks up at the houses around the field and sees a window begin to open in the landowner’s kitchen, no doubt to get a hint of a breeze.
CHAPTER 2
The window took too much energy, not worth what little breeze it let in. No matter, he pours another glass of cold water and sits by the window, watching the farmers tilling his land. Its a wonder they’re still able to make it, ever since the well dried up they’ve had to buy water from the neighbors and their farmers. No matter, he has no reason to trouble his mind, he gets the rent, all else is anecdote, it is a wonder. Where does the harvest go? it is a wonder. How has a group of Bangladeshi made it to these suburbs, taken control of pretty much all the agricultural fields, and managing to make a living? it is a wonder. He should just sell the land.
CHAPTER 3
“We’re not going to sell this month. The water’s out father.”
He knew this would happen, he knew his son knew this would happen, he knew this would happen again. Thoughts of rumors that farmers farther north are having similar problems, and that they were watering with sewage, had reached his ears and surfaced in these very moments.
“The water’s out father.”
CHAPTER 4
That was the second time today that his father was lost in thought.
“Father, the water’s out!”
“I know son.”
CHAPTER 5
The landowner closes the window and watches, he remembers when the town was a town, he remembers also when people started coming, quickly, and in large numbers, to live, affordably close to the center. He does not remember what it was like to be then, he reasons that that is part of human reason. He remembers, from pictures, what the mountain behind his house looked like before the migration. He glances again at the farmers, he wonders how long they will stay, if they will leave like the ones before them.
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