Falafels and A Vanilla Coke

Joseph felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His brother had always been secretive about his affairs �" his parents were the conservative type.   But hiding a whole marriage?

He felt his head spinning and lifted his palm to his forehead. Hadar grabbed him as he was about to fall and sat him down on a stool.

“Joseph. I know this will be hard for you to take in. Your brother.....”

“Just shut up. I don’t want any more of this bullshit. My brother was a lie. My country was a lie. Heck, my whole f*****g life has been a lie.”

“I’m sorry.”

They both fell silent. Joseph poked at the dust with a stick, slowly making patterns. Hadar began to sob quietly beside him, but he took no notice.

“B*****D!” Joseph snapped the stick in two across his thigh and roared in anger.

“Get up. I need to go see Samir.” His voice was cold and steely.

Hadar didn’t move.

“I said get up.”

Silence.

“GET UP!” Joseph grabbed Hadar roughly by the collar and pushed her onto the dust. She lay sprawling, her tank top now a muddy brown, and blood trickled from a fresh cut on her arm.

Hadar whimpered.

“I’m really sorry Joseph. Your brother was an amazing man. I fell for him the moment I saw him. When he used to hold me in his arms �" I would feel like the world’s problems would melt away. Please forgive me.”

The wave of anger had passed and Joseph helped Hadar up to her feet. She shook the dust off her shirt, and, ripping off a length off cloth from her jeans, bandaged her bleeding arm.

“Follow me.”

She began to slowly walk towards a wooden sign with a cross, the traditional symbol for health and treatment, etched into it. Joseph followed behind, thinking about his brother. Ibrahim had become reclusive after high school �" they had begun to see less and less of him at home �" he always claimed he was busy. Suddenly, at 20, he had moved out for no apparent reason. Joseph chuckled now as he saw Hadar striding up ahead of him. Of course there had been a reason. She was perfect for him �" intelligent, funny, and even stubborn at times.

He ducked his head as Hadar lifted the flap of the nurse’s tent and ushered him in. There had been around 20 bed-like structures erected, and Joseph’s eyes scanned around the room until he found Samir.

He gasped. Samir’s face had lost all colour �" the usual radiance replaced with a deathly whitish hue. There were pale blue bags forming under his eyes, and he was tightly wrapped in a brown wool blanket.

“Ishka...Azam....Ishka....Azam” Samir’s lower lip trembled and a thin sliver of saliva trickled down his chin to his shoulder. A nurse quickly appeared by the bedside, produced a white antiseptic napkin, and wiped his face. 

“Hush baby. Azam isn’t here now. You’re safe. Hush.” The nurse slowly patted Samir’s head as he snivelled.

“Joseph. Where’s Joseph? I need to see Joseph.”

Joseph leant down over the bed.

“I’m over here Samir.”

He had never seen Samir in a state like this.

“Ishka.....Azam.....Ishka.....Azam......” Samir’s voice trailed off as he mumbled something indecipherable

Joseph’s heart skipped a beat.

“What did Azam do?”

Samir’s eyes jerked violently from side to side. Joseph grabbed his friend’s hand and gently spoke.

“Samir. What did Azam do?”

Samir’s pupils dilated and he opened his mouth to speak, then, as if forgetting what he was about to say, closed it. Joseph felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked around and saw that the nurse had appeared again, this time with a plate of food. Joseph looked down in revulsion. There was a piece of stale bread, some beef jerky and a glass of yellowish water.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now sir. It’s his lunchtime. You can visit him again tomorrow.”

Joseph felt tears spring to his eyes but he brushed them away. The nurse was right. It was best to leave Samir alone.

*****************************************************************************

Samir watched Joseph walk out of the tent. Making sure no-one was looking, he slowly removed the white baby powder on his face and ripped off the bandage on his forehead. He felt a pang of disgust. Disgust at Azam for making him do his dirty work. Disgust at the nurse for the crappy food they gave him. Disgust at himself for being such a coward. 

Azam had handed him a small paging device.  Upon reaching the Rift, it had beeped, with a simple message.

“Fake Nervous Breakdown. Make-Up under Car Seat.”

Samir had then pulled up at the side of a petrol station, and applied powders and waxes of all types over his face. Joseph had, of course, been fast asleep through all of this �" Samir had drugged him with a sleep serum in his drink. He must’ve woken up with a massive hangover.

Samir lifted the blanket off and stared at plate in front of him. The food didn’t look appetizing, but he needed the nourishment. Besides, he hadn’t eaten for a day and a half, and he was hungry. He felt his stomach grumble.

He picked up a piece of bread and inspected it. The sides had turned green �" some kind of mould was growing. He ripped a seemingly unaffected part off and bit into it. He retched and tasted bile, but forced himself to swallow it down.  Next, he moved onto the beef.  Samir had been a vegetarian since birth, but today was an exception. He fought back thoughts of slaughterhouses, held his nose, and dropped it into his mouth. He slowly chewed the meat �" it was tough, and had a strange, unfamiliar texture. Samir didn’t like it.

Samir picked up the glass and drank up the water. He looked around. The nurse was no-where to be seen. He slowly removed the pager from his coat pocket.  Being a whistleblower had its benefits, and Samir decided to take advantage of that. He began to type a message back to Azam.

“Food here is s**t. Want decent food.”

He suddenly felt drowsy. F**k, the nurse must’ve put some kind of doping agent in the water, thought Samir. He resisted against his eyelids, but it was useless. Samir began to fall in and out of dream, harrowing pictures of Mira being taken hostage by Ishka, or was that Azam?

The icy blade of wind awoke Samir from his trance. He looked around. The tent was empty apart from a few sleeping patients. His eyes trailed to his left and he gasped.

There, in front of him, was a brown paper bag.

He slowly opened the bag to reveal its contents: a falafel wrap, and a Vanilla Coke. There was a small note on the side of the bag. Samir chuckled as he read it.

“With Love, Azam”

*****************************************************************************

Joseph began to walk back towards William’s tent. He felt horrible. His best friend was sick, murmuring nonsense and being forced to eat stale food. Suddenly, his phone rang. 

 

S**t, Joseph thought. It was his mother.

“Hey Mum” He tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible.

“Where the hell are you? I come home and I find a freaking note that you’re leaving! If you wanted your own place, you could’ve told me!”  She was angry. “I didn’t raise you up to get s**t from you. Now come back.”

“I can’t”

“What?”

“I said, I can’t come back home.”

She banged the phone down and Joseph heard the beep signifying that the call had ended.  He sighed �" he was in for it when they next met. If they ever would meet again.

“Joseph! Wait up!”  He looked around and saw Bazooka panting up behind him.

“Oh. Hi.” He wasn’t in the best mood and he made it clear.

“William wants you.” The sunlight reflected on her sweat, making her forehead glitter like diamonds.

Joseph checked the time, stifling a yawn. He was tired, but nothing mattered now. F**k it.

“Alright then. Take me to the X1, Bazooka.”