Between the Grapevines

10. 'Ashra

When Riyad found himself restless in the apartment, he decided to leave Harakat to continue sleeping and take an early morning walk. His journey led him through the silence of the camp that was interrupted only by hushed conversation coming from the second tent. Normally, Riyad minded his business in regard to the discussions occurring within the privacy of the tents, but the hushed voice tugged on his wide strides to slow his steps.

Within the tent, Riyad caught the familiarity of Farhan's tone as he spoke hurriedly to himself. "Is this confirmed or do you simply believe it to be?" His words were rushed and sharp, a tone he often carried when his patience was thinning. When no response came, Riyad assumed the other person in the conversation existed through a phone. "Mere speculation is not enough for me to prepare my men and send them into battle. No I will not make the announcement.... Once you have solid evidence that this is happening, then my division will be the first to run into battle with you but until then- until thenthis is not worth my time."

Riyad pulled himself away when Farhan's voice trailed lest he step out and find that he was being spied on. He pushed his hands into his pockets, feeling the sharpness of his dagger's sheath against the outsides of his knuckles and continued into the grapevines for a moment's peace.

He walked for a while before settling beside the trunk of a wide grapevine and laying his head against its base. Above him, the sun had risen fully into the sky but its angle allowed the leaves of the dispersed trees to shade him in the cool Mediterranean wind. With a heavy sigh, Riyad felt his entire body relax as the familiar energy settled over him. In the corner of his vision, he could see the small home standing on the outside of the aligned farmlands. The peace that settled over him could only be created by his proximity to his childhood home.

A home in which everything had been so complicated, perhaps more complicated than it was now, but the company he'd shared it with made up for it. A dull ache formed in his chest as he thought of his brother once again. Since his passing, there was not a single day that had gone by without the thought of his little brother crossing his mind. The bittersweet sensation arose into his throat.

Riyad shrugged it away and closed his eyes, only listening to the ruffling of the leaves around him. The same wind that twirled them in its path carried away his restlessness and allowed Riyad into a quiet nap.

In his sleep, he remembered the last time he'd seen his parents. Unlike with his brother, it had been quite a while since Riyad dreamt or even thought of them last. But he hadn't yet forgotten his mother's bright green eyes and his father's balding head as they crouched down in front of him, his mother's gaze sliding past her eldest son to the baby sleeping on the couch behind him. Behind them, one of the many soldiers nudged them to hurry.

They had told Riyad to take care of his brother. They had promised him that they would only go for a moment and return before the daybreak. They assured him that he would not need to worry about his brother because he would continue sleeping until they returned. All of their promises to return quickly and safely had been lies as untrue as every other promise Riyad would hear in his life from that day on. When the day came and his brother woke up crying with hunger, their parents had not yet returned. By the morning of the next day, they remained absent.

He was not sure if they were killed or if they'd fled.

All Riyad knew was his own terror and tears as he gripped onto his mother and begged her not to leave him alone because he could not care for his brother if he woke up. That he was only a child. He was afraid of being alone as any other child his age would. In his dream, he shouted and screamed after his parents while they turned and were led away by the large armed men. His neighbor held him back—a neighbor who never looked at him again after that day.