The armed fever: Novel by Asaad Al Jabbouri

 

 

(2)

(The isolation among spirit’s mountains)

(Totmito) woke up to sounds that were addressing him; when he got up from his wooden bed, he soon got broken as a block of ice, he looked around the all parts of the room trembling severely, but did not see an angel as he thought at first while;but found his room with open windows and doors, it has been turned into large refrigerator and all its assets suffer from freezing.

Wow!

Thus he said this word as if he was trying to vomit the ice substance that filled his thin body, the body that he thought many times to throw it out, or hang it on a clothes line; making his blood, dreams, soil and his oppressed mineral get dried; so it will be the end of the violent isolation he belonged to for a long time. here you are, totmito; facing another thing which is not composed or written by the human nature you were condemning its symbols, its tyrants, its rich and its politicians whose minds were constructed of terrorism clay and ethnic discrimination; but also women whose feet had  practiced distancing policy to move away from you, your ways and your life without a single explanation fits their beauty, in spite of being the closest to them in your little position as a postman. When you were delivering letters to houses, your heart- before your nose- smelled the smells of love, betrayals and the news of fondness and money that are emitted from those letters which were full of all kinds of perfumes.

Did not you say that the letter is a garden;either a garden of love or a garden of sorrow? And the postman is nobody but a discoverer of others’ inner areas and secrets.

Yes, totmito, it was in the past, but today you are facing  creatures of a new model, looking down upon you from the far towers, spoiling your life worthily. Therefore the confusion will begin swelling in the depths of your soul, spreading your desires as hot blocks in the whole body, maybe as an attempt to shove you into life against your will, and you; with all your calm and indifference about others; will announce the difficulty of entering among the passing statures in these continuing migrations. Is it because it is hardship for the soul to remove an old mountain from its land and replace it with another one?

No, o totmito, you do not know the time that has been running in your veins since millions of years; as if you had not infected with diseases that are produced by the empty spaces between time and another. These harsh spaces cannot be usually filled by nature except with corpses and overabundant phrases. So; do you have an ability to fill up one of these gaps that snores in the history depths?

You will say to yourself: what is this nonsense? What is the meaning of those gaps or the called empty spaces in time panel?

Or may be you will even call one Hercules from the middle ages Hercules to stick a thousand whip on your skin all at once because you commit such foolishness in the early morning;the morning you see in front of you as a piece of ice. Is not time also going to die in this room one day?

((Ritual((

After closing the window and filling up the door with his body; totmito could not find an interest in cleaning up the place from the snowstorm’s mess that still flowing to the city, but the only thing he thought about was to ignite wood in the fireplace which is drilled in the left side of the room, and this  was exactly what he did, he kindled fire, put the teapot on the edge of the fireplace and sat down to medidate the fire that was exhaling smoke and boredom. after that he picked up the transistor, removed the ice from it; as an attempt to listen to something. but it did not happen, so; he threw the radio toward the ceiling;only to return back to the floor, broadcasting suddenly one of the most famous songs which says:

The more you immersed in the far,

The more I expel the curtains out of my house,

And stand as a cat in the window

Waiting for you

Although the night in my room is white

Because of my memories with you

But it is black outside

Will your absence get longer, my sweetheart

Or you will come back too late

To collect my heart’s glass from the garden

Next spring

Totmito kicked the teapot with his foot, then wore his gray coat, leaving the room without closing the door behind him. once he became in the sub road which get to the city through the jungle, he felt suffocated, and felt that his glances that were directed at the trees had become heavier of  boredom early.and here he is; trying to get over himself  first, before that lamentable white jungle, he thought about his old feet, the roads and paths he had gone into over long years; while delivering letters under rain, wind, lightning, freeze and severe sandstorms which make man ungrateful to nature’s mood and madness.

As if the archive of his head had his papers turned over at these cold moments that may be he could not feel because of the big discontent he had in himself of the character he carried inside, that is whathe was talking about as a charismatic character and can break down any mirror as soon as his image penetrates in its glass!

you are sicko, o totmito, and if you want to be a natural person, you just have to dig the soil of the body you ride; in order to purify it and evacuate it of its last inhabitants, especially the tribe’s women whom you looked at  friendly all the time and never molest or ask one of them to go with you to a far corner of a forest, to make love with her. You were only delivering letters and as you finish work; you were throwing the world behind as a ball of rotten with mud cloth,and take the road towards the far mount (coastos) which no one dare to approach. So; how was the situation to a young man like you, who thought to get to the mount and really did it?

(coastos) mountain was like one of the myths that prompts horror and curiousness in souls. the people of cities, who really interested in hearing the fantasy stories from television, while they extremely amazed;nor the villages men who are usually marked by adventure and  fighting soul got excited one day to break through that place which smelt the smell of magic, danger and mystery.

Coastos Mountain remained unknown by the tribes’ people to the day you invaded it in that fiery summer of last year. Thus you entered the race on your own, to retain the victory until this day in history.

So Totmito, what did you discover in Coastos?

You haven’t ever told anyone about this. This mountain was of your speciality alone. But it is special kingdom of your self, as became common among the tribes of the region, when  you were asked about coastos by anyone, you were telling him to go there to see and discover that fairy place himself.

But an adventure like this doesn’t look compelling and easy, even for one of the (Pont) or (Alrond) tribes, which are famous for the strength of their men.

Because in many times, panic can eliminates the most physical strength in human beings.

And it was always in your favor, O Totmito, O mighty by chance totmito.
Did anyone know that suicide was your motive to break in the fairy unknown mountain caves, not heroism?

Did you get rid of your Great Turmoils?And what did you do there Totmito?

Were you reading Socrates books, or summarizing Darwin’s theory, or reviewing Kontakinte’s history, or were planning to invade one of the mysteriou galaxies, or you were obsessed with Baudelaire’s evil flowers and dance rhythms of  Zorba?

No one knows what you were doing there, and I think even you personally, do not know what exactly was happening to you.when summer comes, and the distance between the sun and the head become short, and perhaps one feels that it does not exceed but a few centimeters, Brains flow in their black cans like butter, without being seen by anyone. This is exactly what happened to you that summery day!

 

((Ritual((

Totmito’s feet havn’t finished crossing the woods yet, he stopped to look at a woman in her thirties sking in such a bad weather.
Once the woman looked at him cautiously, as if trying to convict his curiosity, he decided to walk amid the(Popcorn) trees till the street where (philosophy) bar, which he used to visit it regularly two years ago.

Totmito entered the bar and greeted his friend (Graf) who was sitting next to one of the windows looking outside, as if trying to get rid of the meaning of looking, and  content only with color-blind which  suits this country in such a terrible winter.

After minutes of silence, totmito asked for a cup of coffee;he wanted to move graf from his place, the place he was nailed in painfully; semi-disgusted.

The bar was almost empty, and sadness was a statue whose stature rises actually and imaginary in each corner of the bar. That statue was probably the only thing which moves and makes noise inside the soul and in the dead ritual of the bar at that time.

Graf (the bar’s owner) came to totmito, then pulled a chair with his huge hand which seems infected with a type of  alokzma, and sat down with totmito; carrying a bottle of vodka in his hand. and as speed as the lightning; he opened his mouth and a truck of discontent and  obscenities got out of it, directed to the decadent and low weather who has not seen similar to it since thousands of centuries. but before totmito begin to sympathy with him and start cursing the weather and the boredom of the place; graf made fun of totmito’s wish to drink coffee, mocking the  brazilian coffee, reviling the ceramic of china’s cups. Graf was eager to change the current of the gloomy sitting, and switch the drink from coffee to vodka and red wine.

Just moments passed before they begin exchanging toasts and conversations. They looked like tow creatures, trying to pull out what was sticked to their flesh of cold and isolation. they drank alot and before noontime; graf surprised  totmito with a strange offer, when he confided a secret of his own to him saying while intoxecated and almost cry: listen man

What is your name?

Nothing wrong about your silence;I do not want you to answer, I will remember your name later; but you have to hear me well and seriously, my friend; I have been keeping a bottle of cypriot old wine a long time ago; yes. seven years before my damned birth, this bottle was all I inherited from my father, I will bring it right now.it is duty, o totmito; when some one dear to you die; you must honoring him and open a bottle of good wine, so the heat creaps into his soul in such cold, damned weather. please do not leave, I will not be late; I will bring the bottle before my wife wakes up because she refuses disgracing  the ancient honor of this bottle  of wine, because this will break the confirmed agreement between us years ago. Wait. I will bring the bottle and complete this confrontation with this damned weather..

What a wonderful day totmito; to drink an old wine now in honor of the soul of a dead who lies down snow’s layers!!

What a wonderful night too;I mean last night that you spent as a floating in pajamas; with an angel who was motivating you to go out of the caves you live in.

Do you deserve this or that estimation, o totmito;although you make me suspicious of the necessity of being attracted to your far worlds; because the more you liberated  from a lock, the more you replace it with two locks of  stainless steel. Why do you do so for heaven’s sake?You were your parents’ only child , note that the only child in the (suppo) does not  get coquet as he gets dust. because this country has its wealth destroyed at all times;as long as the mouth of the army governor (ronch) looks like a highway that is open for swallowing the gold, wheat, uranium, oil, bananas, phosphate, rain, crocodiles, elephants, forests and people.

Here you come to the west countries with Red Cross teams to be a refugee, sitting at a table and feeling exultated of being a creature who is still alive, far from ethnic conflicts, tribes’ wars and democracies’ absence. These are the favors of west for you o totmito.

The forighners take oil from the wells of (suppo) because its governor said to his people once that he can not extract the oil from the ground using his fingernails, nor the uranium, gold, phosphate; for that reason the technological techniques of the west are necessary, and this is exactly what  he did when he handed the keys of all wells to the foreigners; but the farce that is bigger than this or that is governor’s attempt to convince people of the need to get rid of uranium under the pretence that this substance is satanic, cause disintegration to elephants’ ivory, the leather of crocodiles and snakes, and also it will cause sterility to women’ wombs and neutralize potency if one of the tribe’s men mouth tastes its smell; therefore, let  foreigners take all these evils, and put them in their laps; then we get rest.

Graf came back to find totmito drowned in his thoughts totally in the far exactly, he asked him:what is the matter totmito? Do you suffer from panic attack that turned your face’s color to the color of fresh lemon?

I am exhausted, as if exhaustion does not want to dispute with me forever. Totmito replied sarcastically.

Oh, we all feel tired and exhausted, as if we still cross the world jogging and did not complete this marathon. So, is not it true that we still jog without catching the end’s line?

Damn this trivial fate. Graf replied while his eyes were scrutinizing the bottle: yes. Even those who do not practice jogging, feel tired, and their knees are about to escape from the tops of their legs. Totmito commented.

forget this nonsense; I have brought the inheritance of my father now, I do not want anything to disturb this session, after the weather rot my mind to destroy my joy that I wish it could reach to my father in his deep hole.

Look, is not it a beautiful bottle?I am sure it contains all remained virtues in our current world, and if we immersed in it a little more, the soul of my father might come to us again. Graf said these words while laughing loudly; then totmito continued his talking: how could you know graf; your father may came out of his grave as soon as he get a sip of this wine, and rises before us due to his warmth. Totmito replied with hidden sarcastic.but graf interrupted him, saying: we will know that later.

Listen carefully, totmito: I have been hesitating in doing this thing since a long time, the more I tried to open this bottle, the more I felt a terrible feeling: that my father will enter the bar and drink half of the bottle.

Forget about that and do not be boring, graf, but tell me: what about the the agreement about this bottle between you and your wife? I hope that my question does not embarrass you.

No.you are not embarrassing me, o totmito, you have the right to ask about that historical bottle and the bilateral agreement as long as the madam is asleep;and we are drinking my father’s legacy.

The story began, o my friend, a quarter of a century ago, namely, since the wedding, both of us – me and my wife- have got this bottle of wine as a gift of our wedding from my father; and when the wedding ceremony was over, and we came in our bedroom to experience desires and dive in the body’s dictionaries, I tried to open this bottle; just to add one more string to our sexual harmony at that time, before going to our bed; but the bottle fell out of my hand on the marble floor and did not crash. We got astonished at this odd incident and then, after we had astonished that the bottle did not break, we had a deal that says: we will not open it and we will not drink it except in the future and in one case: to be drunk by one of us at the night of the other’s death.

Why do you want to break the agreement between you and your wife today, o graf?

It is not an agreement breaking as much as it relates to the tendency of tyranny that makes me not to throw my rights away to the others; I am worthier to take over the property my father left behind to me, which are all collected in the bottle, the one that is about to be empty after a while, o totmito.

Please drink, cheers.

Yes. What an old wine! Of course you have the right to wish doing so; because this bottle is a museum of the descent you were born from its erotic sperm, which may contain the deep secrets of our world.

Do you object to have an erotic world?

Never; During the last few years, I did not fall in sexual love; as I think; I kept my self away from escorting the evil that  I did not give him my neck for fear that my lust may kill me.

Did it happen because women rejected you and did not care about you?

No. But in order not to have my mind flown because of women’s charm and curses. I did not learn the doctrine of love beggary; for that reason I became, since a long time, the tent of myself that is strangled burn under sun to the utmost degree; although I did not chase a woman, I said to myself that isolation is the reward that protects me from the blind waste among women.

Here you  are; telling me about trifles that were  removed from my life, as if lack of sex is the equanimity of the human being, or a bracing of the brain against damage; while the opposite is quite true.

My father used to say to my mother:I am the money and you are the bank; and if rupture happened between the two parties, each of us may exposed to a serious loss.

And where is your father now, graf?

He is flowing in your blood, o dog; do not you feel him and the teachings he is sending you from his grave now; to increase your knowledge and culture?

No. Your father did not get there, because my shoes have thick leather, it is difficult to be penetrated by your father’s teachings.

No, no, do not say uncivilized phrases like these, at least, we first invented the shoes for you.

If I could take your invention off my feet, I would do that; at least for your father, but the wine exhausted me, o graf.

Then pass through the forest to your house, o vile, before my wife wakes up and witness that a foreigner has spoiled the possessions she shared her husband with. I am not prepared to have a fierce war with her in such an early morning that is full of boredom which is about to cut off my head and send it  next to my father who is sleeping in his hole. Did you understand o vile totmito?

Never mind, o graf, you are engaging in wars on several fronts; and let it be final that I am not a lax front of those fronts, but I have no time to clean your far depths from their fossilized darkness; and one like you; needs centuries of hard work to be cleaned up; and this is not my job now, Good bye.

Ah. do not go please, totmito, and do not say good bye; you have to do nothing but planting snow in your nerves and under your skin, then you will become cold stature to take my words which fell out of my blind mouth.

If you went, you would destroy my last ambition in this universe. yes, your leaving will make me lose the last enemy I dream to fight in this city. please do not leave me as a donkekhota with no front to fight in; I do not want to engage in my wars against windmills as the don did in the past. Do you know, I would not feel any victory if you were not here.

As soon as they finished drinking what is left of wine and legacy in the bottle, totmito went out of the bar, dragging his grey coat behind him hardly and tottery as if he was pulling a horse which got tired after hard journey among mountains. He did not care so much about Graf’s silly words, he often listened to such words that form the dictionaries of many people here and there, even if they were in other ways and levels of ideas. the most important thing totmito thought about  was the battle that will happen between graf and his wife if she catch him in the crime of the ancient bottle of wine which is spilled insidiously. but how the news will come to her ears ;it is the great question.

 

((The text’s shadow

As the time exceeded shortly midday, the streets began to breathe humans, even in few embarrassing numbers, in spite of the slight gradual improvement of the weather;there is a licentious cold make the iron of the elecetricity polesshake, and there is ash that cover faces and the glass of the shops windows and women hats, who tried venturing to get off to work or chatter in some cafes and bars.

Totmito, who dragged his feet slowly on the snow that covered the sidewalks, maybe was the only one who does not know exactly where he is going. The idea of ​​hanging around, which control him, and works under, is not worthy to be carried out in such weather conditions like those that break bones with their cold.

Therefore;he walked towards a side street near the main train station in the capital, and there he had a sudden idea:to storm his old fears of women, and enter one of the private residential buildings of the prostitutes.

((Let this day be the first day in your life, Totmito, to buy human flesh without emotions, to have sex with the first women in the world. Here, fancy is sold like sardine cans, bottles of cola, skins of snakes, tomatoes, newspapers and shampoo, electrical appliances and tobacco, but by one difference, that such a commodity remains in its place, and one must aware well that he will not be able to carry the goods to the house and enjoy it all the time; fancy here  is just for once, and the more you pay more, the more you renew the sale and purchase contract, until the date of  the agreement invalidity and its expiry.

Do not you want to enter this market?

Yes, you wished, but not this way, but what is preventing you now from accomplishing something you can do, and leave the incurable issue of marriage and love – the issue that you only think it is incurable – to other time?

No. do not do it, Totmito, because if you did, you would be finish your eternal hesitation, lose the fortune of sex phobia, the fortune you have saved long years ago.

You know what will happen to you if you sleep with a prostitute?

Your feet will run in the mud or in the dirty water daily and lose that overwhelming wish that jammed always in your caves in ((wedding night)).

But why did not you think of that damned wish but in these minutes, when you put your feet on the first thresholds of sex?

Is there a demon follows your trail now, Totmito, to get you away from women you often wanted from one of them to absorb all your rivers, and leave you as sand dunes blown by storms in the deserts of nothingness?

Are you tired of romantic fiction, while captivating you in its nets as a bird that no blood left in his body; or a voice in his throat but the voice of wailing, that is secreted by his remote depths, those depths that are covered with tons of snow. But, how Spirit trees turn into dust Scarecrows where you bury underneath all your mysterious and shut-in history, then you get choked with it?

 

(The text steam(

at first, you, totmito did not admit that dreams are shinng lights on poles’ tops, whether they were in the streets of the self or in the cities’ streets. you were always feelng that cold ashes, as a kind of birds follows you, waves to you with the defeats napkin; and the day you found yourself victorious for yourself within this cosmic flot of events, you felt that the ships you often wished them to take you across continents; have sunk inside your violent soul. as you were stealing from yourself its amazement, to have its stature swelled by it, just as finding someone who is lurking you, and throw your soul outside universe;the theory of metamorphosis of young dreamers is still valid in most of our world schools which are flourished with the outcome of tragedies’ philosophies that try to feed us their teachings, as if being insects that cannot live but on its rhythms frequency, even though we feel restless and disgusted. And from leisure to leisure;there are ways, o totmito, so; you have to remember that the body is nothing but a revolutionary book whose texts  do not end at borders of perfume or a woman or a paradise or a philosophy. there is always a chance to expand the text with a woman who belongs to writing ink, and each notation of that craziness; empowersa sexual electricity of a special type then the desperate expressions turn to pleasure like an open singing pleasure; the onethat its composer frowns the recession, damage, submission to premature aging.

then; you will not be saved but by one hero, the one who comes out of unconscious fires, to create his own legends from craziness we did not owed by some virtue till near past.