The Serpent
By: Aadel M Al-Mahdy
“God Gracious,
have mercy on him!” the words came out of my mouth in staccato whisper while my
fingernails cut through the skin of my palms. A pregnant woman held her
distended abdomen in pain. An old man fell to the ground unconscious. A little
girl hiding behind her mother shook like a dry leaf in the wind. People stood
riveted, stunned by the scene; fear blanching their faces.
It was mid-day.
The carded-cotton-like clouds moved slowly to the horizon, and burnt in the sun, the
sugar cane leaves twisted into little cork screws. Tops of sparse palm trees
looked like unkempt hair of an aged woman. At the top of a palm tree was a man;
his eyes glazing and bulging, his dried-date tongue parting his swollen lips
and his forehead beaded by glittering sweat. Around him coiled a dreadful
serpent; its body massive and its head swinging violently. Its mouth opened to
bare its fangs and forked tongue.
“God, look at
its tail hitting the tree trunk!” breaking the silence, someone exclaimed. “I bet
you, Hollywood
cannot produce such a scene!” a man wearing an elegant suit interrupted. “The
man is dying. Someone must do something to save him” an old woman begged the
crowd.
Screams were
heard, and a woman was seen stumbling down the road. “That’s Reem, Abu-Ismael’s
wife. Stop her otherwise her screams will kill her husband. The serpent will be
irritated” ” someone said. “Ignoramus, snakes have no eardrums” the elegantly
dressed man whispered to himself. I glared at him while two men pulled the poor
woman away and commanded her to be silent. “What are we
going to do now” someone asked. The elegantly dressed man answered immediately,
“I know what to do” ─ everybody looked at him, but he continued, looking into
the desperate faces “I know someone living on the western bank of the river. He
is a good shot. I am sure he will help”
"I would not
recommend him. He is a bastard and would not care less unless he is getting a
big portion of interest in his favor” a university student interjected. “Mind
your language, young man! Haven’t you learned any manners at school” someone
snapped angrily. But gripping firmly a history book under his arm, the student
answered, “I have, and history as well”
“Calm down
folks! There’s another alternative” a saddle-nosed man interrupted; his eyes
and mustache looked Mongolian. People looked at him with pleading faces.
“I know of a man
living on the eastern bank of the river. He would not claim much in return, and
if you tell him that you are thinking of seeking help from the western bank
dweller, he may do the job for next to nothing”
“I know him,
too, and he is worse than the other one” the university student cried, but his
voice was stifled by the sound of hooves clopping down the road.
Astride his
beautifully saddled horse, the village mayor rode into view; his chief sentry
running in his trail in a cloud of hooves’ stirred dust. A murmur rippled
through the crowd.
“When did such a
serpent come to the village?” the mayor asked, appraising the desperate
situation carelessly. “Once upon a time, mayor” the university student said;
his voice was sarcastic. The mayor glared at him, but the student continued, “It
was smaller at the time. We fought it bear-handed, but we failed to kill it. We
then cried out for help, but you did not respond. You were up to your ears
absorbed into your own affairs”
“How dare you
talk to the mayor like that?” the chief sentry said pushing the student on the
shoulder. The crowd roared, and a huge man held the chief sentry firmly by the
shoulder and yelled, “If you ever do that again, I’ll break your nick”
“Let me kill the
bastard right now” someone pushed forward wielding his rod, but a white-bearded
man intervened, “Calm down, folks! Arguing and fighting with each other never
solved a problem. Does it matter now who is responsible? Right now all we have
to do is unite, be of one heart, of one mind and think of a way out. Neither
east nor west, or north or south is going to help us unless we help ourselves”
Some people
moaned and some other shouted, but someone cried happily, “There he is someone
from among us coming down the road” ─ All people turned eagerly to see a man
heading to the scene. He wore a
traditional garment, patched but clean. His nose was straight and sharp like
the edge of a sword. Thick eyebrows shaded his grief-stricken eyes. His beard
was as white as freshly blossomed cotton flowers. He was definitely old but
still as strong and tall as a mast of a ship. “I heard of the
incident, so I came to offer my help” he solemnly said.
“That’s
Abdul-Aleem, a killer, blood-feud people use to hire” my friend whom I came to
visit whispered into my ear. “But I heard he quit since cancer killed his only
son” I whispered back. “That’s right” My friend said. “Save the man
and I’ll give you any amount of money you ask, Abdul-Aleem” a rich man said.
But Abdul-Aleem said, “I am not interested in your money. My bullet may miss
and kill Abu-Ismael. Would you then claim for my blood?” The rich man said, “On behalf of
everybody, I know you’ll do your maximum best. If you miss, we will then accept
it as God’s will and God be my witness, no one will blame you”
Abdul-Aleem then
asked for a rope which he wrapped around himself and the palm tree’s trunk that
stood opposite to Abu-Ismael palm tree. Carrying his rifle on his shoulder,
Abdul-Aleem climbed the tree until he reached a parallel point. He then took
his gone off his shoulder and aimed.
The serpent hung
its head in the air in front of Abu-Ismael’s face; its tongue frightfully
appearing and disappearing, and then retreated with its mouth widely opened and
its fangs totally erected. The serpent then swooped forward, but at that exact moment,
Abdul-Aleem fired his gun. The headless
reptilian body uncoiled and hit the ground. Someone climbed the tree and helped
Abu-Ismael climb down the tree.
“Water, water”
Abu-Ismael whispered as soon as he reached the ground. But soon after he had a
few sips of water, his head dropped on his shoulder. Cries rippled through the
crowd and Reem throw herself on her husband wailing.
Firmly squeezing
my friend’s hand, I whispered to him, “God may have mercy on all of us! It is
as if I haven’t come to visit you, but to walk in Abu-Ismael’s funeral”.
The End
