Cyrill Delvin - The Gaza Project

Only when Abdoul cleared his throat did Ḥusām turn around.

»When am I allowed to get up and go outside?«

Ḥusām had to smile. Impatience appeared to dominate inside the cabin at the moment.

»Your stomach still needs rest and you have to stay in bed until I tell you. Jada will bring you something to eat and drink, so you will soon get better.« Before closing the door, he added: »And she’ll put a mirror on the wall so that it’s easier for you to see the outside.«

The ocean’s varying moods were the only thing Abdoul could watch during several days in bed. He would stare at the water for hours, floating between his dreams and reality. Over time, he immersed himself in an alien world through the mirror.

In his fantasy he didn’t only populate the sea with the auspicious mermaids and the fish he already knew. Conjured up out of nothing, they were joined by medusas, seashells, algae, crabs and squid. From the bottom of the ocean he imagined the fishing boats dancing on the water’s surface. Sometimes he got entangled in one of the nets descending from above. But he was always able to free himself.

At midday, the sun’s rays penetrated deep into the water and jellyfish breezed past him as light as fairies. The shells on the ocean bed had opened and more than once he found large pearls glowing iridescently in the copper-coloured sunset.

At night he noticed horrifying eyes staring up at him from the impenetrable black of the ocean. Large, green flickering ones, small, reddish gleaming ones or bluish ones furtively winking at him. They were the eyes of the kraken and those of other big and small sea monsters. Star-like, they orbited in the deep waters and glistened until the early morning. Only when dawn came did all the fish seem grey and rigid, like tin soldiers before being painted.

Ḥusām made as much time for his patient as he could. The Palestinian boy was mostly interested in the ocean and its creatures. He could never learn enough about it. Even his grandfather hadn’t known as much about the marine animals as the doctor. Around the third day, Ḥusām brought something special. »I found this for you in the ship’s library. It’s an old almanac for sailors in the Mediterranean. You can keep it. The captain doesn’t need it anymore.«

Abdoul’s was mesmerised when he browsed through the volume. The almanac contained all sorts of facts about sailing ships and navigation. It also included many maps and large, incomprehensible charts. What fascinated him most were the numerous drawings and photos of the ocean’s inhabitants. Even stranger and more wonderful than the creatures of his daydreams. Hundreds of fish species, mammals, birds, snails and slugs, algae and plants.

»I wish I could read it,« he said regretfully one evening.

»Well, you can always learn the language.«

»Do you know it?«

»Yes, I learned it during my studies. The language is English and the names of the animals and the plants are also written in Latin.«

The following day, Abdoul was allowed to get up. He was delighted and explored the hospital ward. Ḥusām also showed him the operating theatre and explained the many gruesome instruments. Abdoul would have loved to have a look at the whole ship, but that wasn’t permitted. Instead, he went to the adjoining quarterdeck whenever he could where he would sit for hours engrossed in his almanac.

Jada, who unlike Ḥusām was very reserved, gave him an old patient journal and colouring pens. Abdoul sketched one creature after the next on the empty back pages. He also drew mermaids playing tricks on the fish and driving them into the fishing nets. He carefully copied the Latin descriptions, too. Whenever he knew the name of a fish, he added it in Arabic; when he didn’t he gave them melodic fantasy names.

Ḥusām was impressed and occasionally made time to discuss particularly difficult sea creatures and their names. But they still didn’t discover what kind of shell Abdoul was wearing around his neck. The almanac didn’t mention anything of the kind. The other books on board also didn’t describe a comparable specimen.

»Perhaps it’s an extremely rare species or one of a kind, a maverick that looks completely different to its parents.«

The boy liked the idea that the shell may be a maverick. It felt very connected to him. The ocean and its creatures had cast such a spell over him that everything around him only hazily penetrated his conscience. His stomach wasn’t so important anymore; it would heal by itself anyway. Only at night was he sometimes haunted by dark thoughts and memories of Qadim and the Madrasa and only rarely now did he miss his family or remember the missiles hitting the beach at Gan Or.

Soon he felt safer on the ship than he had felt anywhere else. He hardly wondered why he never met anyone but Ḥusām and Jada. The Israeli patrol boats, which regularly passed close to the Malta III, didn’t capture his attention either. And so he gradually recuperated.

But one evening he was woken from his fairy tale: »I think you can go back to Gaza next week. Your stomach has healed.«

»Do I really have to?«

»You do. You can’t stay on the ship.« Ḥusām noticed Abdoul’s expression. »Aren’t you glad?«

»Why? Where should I go?«

»We already discussed that you can stay on in the settlement. Haīkal will take care of you and you can help me.«

»Yes – but…«

»What?«

Ḥusām knew exactly what the boy was getting at. He had become very fond of him. Without a family he desperately needed a home but Ḥusām wasn’t in a position to offer it. »You’ll soon make new friends in al-Qubāʾ. You are a big boy and you’re resourceful.«

The two of them silently watched the nightfall’s orange and copper-coloured lullaby on the water’s surface.

Abdoul gathered all his courage: »You said that there will soon be a school. Can I learn English and the other language? The one in the almanac for the names of the fish?«

»Why do you want to learn that?«

»I want to know all the animals in the sea and later I want to be a great fisherman.«

»Well, I will talk to the headmaster.«

»You promise?«

»I promise!«

Ḥusām extended his hand and Abdoul shook it happily.

Three days later the time had come. One of the smaller boats took them towards the coast. Abdoul was sitting right up front. Just as he had done on his trips with this grandfather, he leaned over the prow and observed the boat ploughing its way through the ocean. The shell around his neck slipped out of his shirt and was now being towed across the water by its string.

When Abdoul looked back at the big ship after a while, he saw a light flashing on the upper deck. He thought he recognised the shape of a man watching them through a pair of binoculars. A strange feeling took hold of him. During the entire time on the ship he had only met the doctor and the nurse. Occasionally the shadow of a person would dart across the afterdeck where the nursing ward was situated. And sometimes he could discern a deck-hand leaning against the railing closer to the prow of the ship. But nobody had ever approached him to talk to him. All the more mysterious was the man watching them now.

Ḥusām looked at him: »It’s not as if weird things go on aboard. I mean, in a way they do, looking at it from a certain perspective. What I’m trying to say is… it’s okay.« A while later he mumbled: »Everything will be alright. That’s what we’re here for.«

Abdoul didn’t understand what he meant and was just about to probe when Ḥusām continued: »We’ll be at the beach shortly. There you can help Haīkal to unload the boat and then go to al-Qubāʾ with him. I’m going to do my rounds in the camp.«