One Problem Too Many

Night fell over Jerusalem. Like a dark blanket, it engulfed the city, embracing it as the city slept. Most of the city, that is.

Abdul scurried across the road, looking for leftovers in the trash cans that were tucked away in the alley ways. Some days, he would score a huge haul, enough to last him a few days. On others, he’d be lucky to find a bone. Tonight wasn’t one of his better nights though. The dogs had reached it before him. They growled viciously, and Abdul retreated. It was pointless getting into a fight. He looked up into the sky. It was so vast. With infinite possibilities. How many places must share the same sky? And yet he was stuck here. In a dirty alleyway with a grumbling stomach.

He slowly started walking back home. He was thankful that it was night. It saved him from having to deal with other people. His blonde hair and blue eyes always drew attention to him, whether he liked it or not. He could hear their whispers. He could feel their gazes. That his mother was a prostitute and had slept with a foreigner. It sounded impure when they said it. Filled with spite and disgust. He wanted to shout out the truth. But he couldn’t. He would clench his fists but he never retorted. The price was too steep.

But none of that mattered anymore. Mother was dead. Had been for six months now. It was just him now. Him and the narrow clay roads of Jerusalem.

He had been lost in thought as his feet led him home. Another dirty alleyway tucked away in some corner of the city. It wasn’t much but it was something.

Something to call home.

He wrapped himself in his one and only possession. A blanket that Mother had given him before she died. It was dirty and full of holes, but it still got him through the cold nights. He lay there, looking up at the stars, and quietly fell asleep.

The battle raged on all around Wido. The sound of men shouting their battle cries echoed in his ear. Sword clattered on shield. He did not know what was happening. The smell of death lingered in the air, making Wido puke. Desperately, he tried to get a bearing of his surroundings, but to no avail. He could not find father. He tried to shout, but fear paralyzed his voice. Tears stung his eyes. He needed to escape. He could faintly make out a small alleyway that was removed from all the chaos. If he could just get there. Slowly, he started to crawl towards it. A soldier suddenly fell in front of him, bleeding profusely. He twitched once. Twice. And he was dead. It was the first time Wido had seen a dead body. For a moment he was paralyzed with fear. But Wido had no choice but to keep moving forward. Painstakingly slow, he crawled over the dead body. He was still aware of the battle raging on around him. It would only take a second for a soldier to notice him and end his life. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes to hours. Still the battle raged on. Long enough that Wido lost track of time. He wouldn’t be able to get there. So there he lay. More soldiers fell. He couldn’t tell friend

from foe. But the bodies kept piling up.

It was night before the battle came to an end.

Wido got up from the ground. He was drenched in blood. As he looked around, all he could see were dead bodies. Quickly he ran into the alley way he had spied so long ago and cried himself to sleep, exhausted from the ordeal. The stars twinkled above, ever so cold.

Wido was woken up by a woman. A woman he would come to call Mother. She patted him affectionately on the head.

“Come on Abdul. It’s time to wake up”

Abdul woke up with a start. His stomach was still growling. Unbearably so now. He needed to eat. Reluctantly he got up and began searching for a meal that would quench his hunger. It would be so much easier for him to steal from the vendors during the daytime. But he had made a promise to Mother that he would never sink so low. No matter the circumstance.

He did not know where he was going. He just let his feet take him in whatever direction they wanted to go. Snow was starting to fall. Little flakes drizzled through the air, floating gently on to his head. He wished he had taken the blanket now. The wind did not help matters. It was going to get worse. He needed to find a place to shelter from the snow. In the distance he saw a dilapidated shack. Probably a stable. That would mean there were bales of hay inside. Abdul made a run for it as the light drizzle became a full blizzard.

The snow had really started to come down hard. Abdul shook off the snow as he entered the stable and searched for a place to buckle down and spend the night.

But someone was already there.

An old man, withered by the years he had seen sat in the corner. The wrinkles etched on his face seemed to tell a story. A strong breeze would finish him but something held him there. In his arms, lay a baby. It was sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of their predicament. The old man nodded to him, as if asking him to come closer. Abdul approached cautiously. He wasn’t sure what the old man was thinking. His dark brown eyes gave nothing away. As Abdul got closer the old man slowly raised the baby. Abdul looked confused for a second, but then took it in his arms. He looked into his eyes, for it was a he. He had the same blue eyes as he did. Had he also been left behind by the Crusaders? Suddenly the boy woke up, and looked up at his face. Surprisingly, he began to laugh, despite seeing a new face for the first time. He seemed content, wrapped in Abdul’s arms, protected from the cold. Abdul looked back at the old man, but he was gone.

His body had gone limp and his head was tilted to one side.

He was smiling though.

The blizzard had died down. It was safe to go outside now. He held the baby tenderly, all the while wondering what he was doing. How was he going to care for this child? He had no food. No money. His only possession was a torn blanket. But he couldn’t turn his back on him now. Especially since he had been in such a situation before. For a moment Mother’s face flashed before him. He would figure it out.

Somehow.

They reached the alleyway that Abdul called home. Immediately Abdul knew something was wrong. He slowly walked in and saw what had happened. There was blood splattered everywhere and the body of a man he did not know. It had been a long time since Abdul had seen blood. It still made him nauseous. But he needed the blanket. He quickly searched the area but couldn’t find it.

It was gone.

He tried to hold back his tears, but to no avail. His stomach growled loudly as he looked up into the stars, trying to find solace. The baby quietly slept in his arms, a smile still on his face.

Mother. What do I do. I’m lost.

The stars twinkled in the dark night sky, as if laughing at the boy who had one problem too many.

#writing #historicalfiction #HolyCrusades #story #Jerusalem #Literature