The armed fever
A novel by
Asaad Al Jabbouri
All rights reserved
The book : The armed fever
The author : Asaad Al Jabbouri
the translator shurouk hammoud
The first edition :2016
The cover designer: jehan kher
Cover by Vanessa lemen
Damascus – 00963932061735
The angel in the bedroom
The angel pulled the rattan chair and sat beside the sleeper in that bed, to watch the silent events which were taking place in the body of that unarmed man. The sleeper was like a temple of transparent glass, you can see every incident and movement that goes on inside him like moans, singing, dreams;as if his circulatory is a screen which show the watcher a statement of what is happening in his deep inner caves, hence the sleeper’s life is just tapes where events overlap between the world of existence and the world of nihility.
The process of scrutinizing the sleeper’s face and his inner events by the angel did not last more than moments;after that;his eyes began prosecuting the scattered pictures on the walls, observing the furniture of his pitiful room;in such an icy day like that;winter destroyed everything;leaving that creature like uninhabited area, but by the silence of sleeper’s world.
The process did not has clear dimensions exactly
What is the relation between the sleeper and the angel?
Or how the angel descended here from those heavens?
No one knows the game secrets exactly! But it is obvious that the presence of the angel in this sleeper’s room represents unusual stuff, because when an angel interrupts his own heavenly job and descends to the earth without prior notice presents a qualitative work, his purpose is to execute an urgent job; as if the mission of that angel cannot be delayed!
This is what could be understood at first, apart from that, breaking into marginalized man’ room by this angel is a harassment and obvious terrorism to a single, unarmed man who avoids the world of awake people, falling asleep in his dreams intoxication inside his desolate, icy bed.
The history of the sleeping man did not reveal that he thought once to have a good-neighbor policy, or a direct contact with any kind of angels, regardless of their classes or their functional roles; this did not ever come to his mind!
So; is the story of the heavenly creature descending means that the angel escaped from the anger of his upper government, or seceded from god’s authority to ask for asylum from the tenant of this room which looks like a mailbox?
What is his mission, his problem exactly?
Yes. This is what we must think of and say first. Because the sleeper knows his own problems, their degrees and origin; But, it is almost nothing but an alienation problem:
A desperate man with no country.as it were, we can say that everything owned by the sleeper, is nothing but a glassy tree of dreams, the world’s stones rain over, no more, no less.
Here you are, still in your bed, and you may not take us aback if we raised questions related to your existence on this earth. We will not do anything like this. We are here for scrutinizing and helping you to go out of the wells you bury yourself inside, up to suffocation.
We have got sick of your boredom, blaming, screaming and unbelief as a person who infected by terrorism disease and got tired of your calls for help from despair that you say it is spreading inside you like a cactus. We are tired of your durable complaint, which says that you are neglected, weak and no one cares about you in your lower world except the marginalized and the drunks who have no abilities or strength.
Yes.we have got your record book out of the archive, and read what was written about you and everything you wrote about yourself that you call it nothing but a dreams’ cemetery.
If the truth must be told, which is a slogan we –the angels- adhere always to, so I can tell you the following results:
We have found a lot of empty spaces in your head. Because of that , I was deputized over here in order to fill those spaces, after the time’s failure to do so.
You have empty spaces which still virgin lands and they are subject to fertilize a lot of ideas.
We recognized that you think about good things;hence the man’s relation with dreams means that he has relation with a river;because dream is like water which looks always for a path to go to and disappear, and if that dream stagnated somewhere, it would be soon a subject to evaporation and vanishing.because of that; you had been feeling suffocation and got sick of.
You may feel that childhood is the most rich of dreams time because the innocence area or space is larger there, and the more the guy got older, the more his dreams’ betrayals got increase. so, you have been feeling that your head is nothing but a vast cemetery of dreams which died young, and the rest of you is nothing but ruins of handicapped dreams with broken statures;nothing left of them but skeletons that address darkness on the snakes’ land. On the other side; you have a faith that the souls inside people on this earth are freezers which may keep dreams ‘water cold for a long time, store it for postponed days, or what you call as future; and there The second process exactly takes place.so; when creatures try to stick to their past’s whiteness which was kidnapped from them in the past; a special warmth get increase inside them soon to melt some of this frozen water and water childhood’s second half from the substitute water which people usually wait for after their forties.
The angel had not stopped talking and explaining what is happening inside the sleeping man; he was reading, explaining, scrutinizing. What is strange if someone thought of something like that?
What is unusual about the mind which lay under our skulls, so you do not admit to us the eloquence of its ideas?
Sleeper mocking voice got louder suddenly without even wake up.
Then the angel replied him, revealing:
You realize, as we know about you from the record of your whole life that lust is the core of everything, and its job is to resist the fall, to dispel its meaning first, and secondly get away from the cruelty and access into beauty a step or two.
If the soil of the body and the soil beyond it are soaked by electro sexual energy which produces souls inside all of you to crumble among its pleasure, then you are trying by this way to refine these waters to rearrange childhoods and its difficult questions.
Every creature wants to be a virgin land, a mountain range called desires are formed on; may be just to dream of flying over.
Do not be bored, pulling your bedsheet to subside under it;completing your deadly dreams. We know that your relation with sleeping is not a friendly one; because both of you provoke outrage, anxious, fears and doubts inside the other. You hate sleeping because it does not give you an immediate response to stimulate your dreams and make them true.sleeping also malice you and detest every place where he and you meet each other, because of your loud scream that mocks of him, make him afraid. (The angel said to the sleeper angrily and excitedly at the same time( Then added:leave aside the girl who is beside you in the bed now and do not touch her bosom with your fingers again; oh you stimulate desires inside us we did not know before, do you want me to leave you and this place?
No I will stay here, and will not leave the room, in spite of the high level of perfume and profligacy in this frozen place.but it is okay;I think that this girl began evaporating and leaving the room. Here you are; after getting rid of the girl, that is nice;but you are sleeping under rain right now, may be you do not feel it at this moment because you are absent or drunk of desires;you are right, because at all times when childhood band its forces together to rain inside, you feel that you are a deception victim because this rain does not grow anything inside you but illusion.
We will tell you why all this is happening but you must first avoid mocking of such a philosophy.
Are not bodies like nylon bags which can be packaged with different things? Are they?
People open their bodies or their bags every day to gather inside plants and animals which they eat and gather also the water and wine they drink, and the dreams, the mountains, the wishes, the desires and the books that they keep;they also do that with fashion, equipment, books, mountains, rivers, computers, cars and buildings which go inside your eyes, and become later one of the imaginary or assumed property of that big bag of flesh; thus we believe in the sky; because body is not just a language, but also the first assimilation land that is created for you, and then there is no escape from destroying it and exile yourselves away from, to escape from some of its places for fear of its exposure to earthquakes or floods or bombing or blindness or nudity.
The angel calms down for awhile as if intends to leave the room, but;because of the incidents’ pressure which were happening to the sleeper; he screams blaming:
Here you are, busy with a new guest; with a doctor as it seems from his appearance, his bag, lancets, scissors and his stethoscope which is hanged around his neck.
Are you sick, or tired of something at these moments?
I do not think that you suffer from anything because the doctor is working on changing your face’s features.yes; this is what I see, he is doing surgery works; Cut, excise, rebuild, and rearrange your face’s features;may be for a plastic surgery you have wanted.
What is happening is not my business;the angel said; then added with some resentment: because it is sure that you gave him the permit, if not; he would not dare to do what he did and leave the place quickly, you agreed with him to do so as I see, when you asked him to make your face looks like Spartacus, but he refused to do so stubbornly;and decided to fill up every window in your face; so you will not be able to see or hear or smell or speak !
Great!! All things will become great when they harmonize with the rainy desires under the roofs of your bodies.
But why did you want to look like MR. Spartacus in particular?
Have you wanted to free your colonized interior from a black terrorism?Then you will be a famous fighter as the knights of revolutions?
It is not my business; because not only doctors do surgeries here; every one do it when he has desire to change others’ features; each one tries to sew the other’s face, decorate it or sculpture it the shape he wants.
Does the same thing happen there in the sky? The sleeper asks the angel while pulling the sheet to the top of his head.
It is nice, the doctor left and we are alone again in the room.
You are in a deep sleep, although you walk, talk a lot and masturbate in this bitter freeze; for that we will ask you a question: do you admit that the body is nothing but a number of acrobatics? The angel asks the sleeper
The sleeper answers saying: please, my brain is a deep abyss and I do not want my deep-rooted belief in despair to be shaken by any one; because I am the legitimate son of all destruction seasons.
The angel responses: We know you will say something like that;and may want us to seal a document on a paper for you;and give you a document to keep in your own archive in return for this confession, I do not know if you will like that or not?
Are not we –the angels- heavens police as you always say?
Wake up, o sluggish. Every bed in nothing but a temporary tomb, take this scepter and point to others desires, then they will follow you as caravans, waves and armies of savagery and infinite gluttony greed. You have time to have long fun, so do not forget to be tough at some turns; remember that always and do not make the head just dreams’ barrack!! The angel yelled at the sleeper, but soon tried to apologize from him saying:I did not use to awaken other people even in the darkest circumstances. We – the angels – do not do negative things; and when we find relaxed person and his sleeping is crowded with a lot of guests, we sit with him and just watch; because it is not acceptable to attack other people’s wishes to get slumber; may be someone wants to sleep at this time, and get up after centuries. We are against nightmares only because they are heavy coins on the consumers and its dealers’ heads during sleep. The angel said to the sleeper in a semi apologizing language; then added; narrating the new scene:
What I see now is not a nightmare, it is a frog which sees fire creeping among your fingers, hear your screams getting louder because of the heat’s rise not of the multitude of combustion. you are now calling for a help of a frog no more, to help you extinguish the fire before it devours you, and burn the cardboard green file where you keep your documents that you worked on to obtain the citizenship!
Imagine a frog with water in his mouth spits on you to save your future?
It is funny; because If you came with us to the places of our job there, we would give you a citizenship which cannot be damaged by any fire, or retracted by a governor – regardless of his huge body – You know those governors; all their claws are made of hell’s steel. They will try to do anything to break the glassy tree of your dreams. This is what the angel said to him.
Was he mocking at him;or he was serious? Nobody knows toward which place the thoughts’ ropes will overshadow in the well of this surprising surreal festival that happened between an unarmed sleeper who looks like a bird and the angel that fell from heavens just to interrogate someone and examine his situations!
We have unveiled you, o you, who is taken away between himself and his own sleep. Could you tell us how you submit to the sleep while you are his historical enemy?Is this for recalling some of those memories? The angel asked.
Memories are type of bacteria; the head has no escape from even in the darkest conditions. The sleeper answered painfully.
Then the angel responded: when you will find out a method can enable you to exterminate the memories which still ring in your body like a huge bell of deserted cathedral; while being in such situation as an orphan among the tops of west’s civilizations and their blue blood?
The sleeper moves as if wants to get up, but still lazy and answers the angel from behind his nose saying: I do not stop using silence as a fire or stop making language as an expression of my continuing sarcasm of the situation I imprison myself inside; in these countries which look like a refrigerator.
Then the angel asks him: why did not you kick this refrigerator with your acute foot, to clean a lag of a time you condemn; later you decide to return to mount (coastos) which sleep in your history?
before starting this or that, I will announce my search for that mistress who killed my mother with an axe; to go deeply into the secret that makes a sensitive woman of that kind let her desire increase to the level of murder, and choose a poor man like my father, in spite of being the wife of the tribes head.
Do not let inferiority ball walk in your self’s courts and do not say: my father’s fate was bitter; nor why did not he think about inventing a weapon to protect himself from others’ evils and mines.
You have to go on in your life and leave the questions to those who do bury them exactly in the coffins. This is what you have to do; to lack your desire to recall the dead annoying feelings; in order not to be one of the disaster’s episodes which had made you a child with a stature of pain; where isolation, despair, meaningless’ carriages leave his face behind on the road of this world.
I do not prefer wisdom’s terrorism; may be the homeless wonderer among winds pages is a soft flesh but does not be broken; because it has metals with a smell that express our viewpoints about death, sex, holidays, residence, sand, murder, freedom, wine, night, migrations.
What about your ghosts?
They are great.every night I hunt one to train him on some of my unknown characteristics, but if I failed to raise him,
I would keep the room’s door open, making him throw his body out of the universe’s map I form and update every day.
Did you say everyday?! The angel asked him, surprised of that exaggeration.
Yes. In order not to cry for a woman I lost in a battle, and smoke a cigarette in front of a monument of unknown soldier who I do not even know who kills him, or stick on the face’s cover a portrait of a god or a butcher or a fool who is trying to localize in the nerves’ pipes.this is what I attempt to do.
That creature moved in his bed; evoking a little steam in the place, and the room began shaking; as if a terrible earthquake had hit it.the curtains fell down, the books and the papers flew apart from the surface of a table which had reserved a place of her near the window; while the clothes, which were on the chair, began crawling towards the outside hallway with an empty bottle of wine. While a small box of sleeping drug remained still beside the bed and did not move.
What do you want us to do for you now? The angel asked:
To get away from my face; I cannot bear to have you here anymore. The sleeper resplied carelessly.
We see on your face expressions that express things differ from what you say; we will be pleased to notice a trace or signs of your head’s active language or the one that is stored in the tunnels of your body that is thrown as a willow’s trunk which is hit by a tornado. Although you do not stop imagining yourself in a kingdom whose biggest gods had abated from its throne, then it began waiting impatiently and fearfully the next new god who will fill in the vacancy of the late biggest god.
Does not every unknown on your land make you scared? The angel asked.
There are no slaves in the human body, neither in the language. So; wherever we find our magic we glorify it; even if it is surrounded by mystery, Because the civilized person is usually one of those charming fountains’ products that cannot be removed by darkness or surrounded by limits or inferior questions;from the beginning of creation; the fertile was the earth first key; the fertility was the life boat to escape from rotting, elimination and destruction.
Do we have to remember the fertility levels in life?
not as a station; but as a straight endless lines;because each pause or stop happens to fertilization process means the end of essence and the wasting of its meaning, and later to declare emotional waste.
Remember that the dead who enters a hole and thinks that he left an alive world behind is not exist. The sleeper answered while trying to move his limbs that are frozen by the room’s frosty weather.
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In spite of what you said;you do not know all what is said at these moments because sleeping had hit you deeply because of wine and drugs.especially that medicine drugs in their different languages might be the only material which lead people into their far prisons;and you are one of those who are trying to tame their fears with faults rather than facing the isolation that has accumulated inside them as a result of the problems they think there are not solutions for.
You are one of those who tend to isolation and waste a lot of time training themselves to stone others’ deeds, regardless of their tact, charm and beauty.
Imagine yourself by the sea now;and there are beautiful women wear only their swimsuits on the beach, each one has a silky stature with a range of desires’ mountains.
Will you cause a defeat to yourself and leave the sea place;leaving behind the dirtiest phrases of swearwords’ dictionary because that your disability tomerger is the reason of the high frequency of discontent against sea and the soft flesh that you dream of without getting them?! What will you do if one of these women asked you to take off your clothes and share her float on water?will you ask god to turn the sea to granite rocks; to get torn these bodies which man can read through their glass the latest vocabulary that are formulated by the language of the flames and sexual harmony between human beings?
Or what would happen if all those women together decided to rape you on the beach?Would you convict them at the state police, inform of serious desires that should be reduced; considering that those desires are inconsistent with virtues’ time?
The day has become white because of the snow storm that covers up the city, the bystreet between the forest and the sleeper’s old house witnesses a serious accumulation of snows, and became hard to walk on, it seems that panic controlled people who live in the other side of woods, for fear of power cutting off and heaters breakdown. While the sleeper’s room, because it was open;the storm crept into it, letting snow covers the walls, the furniture, the sleeping, the carpet, the mirror and all livingstuff. The local radio stations warned people from the storm interactions, municipalities have mobilized emergency crews to face the worst scenarios in the light of the reports of meteorology and weather experts who receive updated information from satellites.
(It is the first storm that announces its rude insurgency against the geographical and the human nature too). Thus one of the climate philosophers described, without hesitation, the weather of that wintery day!
But the mouths of the drunke homeless groups were releasing their voices with narrow rattle;praising: my home, o biggest ambulance, oh the dead disco.and: do not be sad, o unarmed, we are all awaking in despair’s mills, and: Ah the tiger took my hen for future restaurant, my history lost among garbage.
Only hours had passed;then the light began controlling the darkness’ remnants and grew on extensive windows on the walls; while the trees looked like snowy structures in that blind morning. While the light was overlapping with sounds and the agonies of broken dreams; the morning took place tepidly in that sleeper’s room, where the frozen seats, curtains and windows are. the bed was an uninhabited area but by an introverted body; while the mirror which is rooted in the wall looks like a picture that is painted by a demon’s nose, to overlook a world whose features have melted in a heavy silence. the quietness here does not mean anything anymore; because it is one of dead philosophies, and the one may think him sometimes as a retired serpent or an extended carpet onto clay, this is because all the quiet places gather in this room which is full of isolation to the utmost; sadness in the sleeper’s room has flowers which are trying to spread its smells in the cosmic vessel; making this desperate scent a form of self-pity.