excerpts

Here is an excerpt from my first novel: ''Memoirs of a Young Alien: THE EXILE''

 The Exile

On a beautiful sunny day in the summer of 1962, we slowly climbed the stairs leading to the bridge of the ship “Esperia,” docked in the port city of Alexandria. My grandfather Ohannes lead the way, followed by my grandmother who was struggling painfully with every step. Even though she was a sturdy lady, she suffered terribly from the scorching and suffocating heat. Eight children and a miscarriage had taken their toll on this resilient woman who was accustomed to hard labor.

My mother, Alice, the eldest daughter of Ohannes and Adele, brought up the rear, firmly clutching my hand. Restless, I could not help but wander around perilously, unaware of the dangers and inexorably finding myself in hazardous situations.

-  "Guedo [1], Têta, wait for us!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, trying to break free from my mother's grip.

I chomped at the bit to make a break for it and reach the bridge before my grandfather.

-  “Slowly my boy," replied grandmother Adele, breathless, her face crimson.

I managed to break free and took off to join my grandfather on the deck. Proud of myself, I turned and shouted at the top of my head:

-  “Yallah [2]!” Hurry! The boat is going to sail without us!

Half an hour later we reached our cabin located on the bottom deck.  It was already occupied by several passengers. A musty smell, mingled with human stench and a torrid heat, made the air unbreathable. My grandfather found a secluded corner in the back of the dormitory, dropped off his luggage, and motioned to my mother and Têta to join us.

-  "Rest here," he said to his wife and daughter. I will make sure that our luggage has indeed been carried onto the boat. I am bringing the little one with me.

Relieved, I was eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere of our bunkroom. I hurried to catch up with Guédo who was already outside.

The shrill sound of the ship’s horn almost busted my eardrums and the slight vibration that followed made me lose my balance. My grandfather grabbed me firmly by the collar and ordered me to hurry. We climbed up to the bridge, where, leaning on the balustrade, I watched, with fascination, as the shore moved slowly away. Our journey to Lebanon, the promised land, had begun.

A travelling vendor approached us. Grandfather ordered himself a thick and bitter black Turkish coffee, and an orange juice for me. We settled on a makeshift wooden bench and gazed silently at the distant horizon.

-  “Guedo, is Lebanon far from here?” I asked.

-   “……..”

-  “How long will we stay? When will we return to Alexandria?”

My grandfather gave me a furtive look and fell into a brief silence. He stared again at the blue horizon and replied in a voice filled with emotion:

-    “We will be there tomorrow morning, Inch'Allah [3]. You and your mother are going to start a new life in Beirut. Unfortunately, you can never go back to Egypt ...”

Here's an excerpt of my novel "The Two Continents", second in the trilogy of the  Memoirs of a Young Alien.

 THE GREAT ESCAPE

Johnny bid a moving farewell to his family. His mother kissed him and wept uncontrollably. His father hugged him and gave his latest recommendations. His brothers and sister wished him well. Carrying his shoulder bag, which was his only luggage, Johnny prayed for his friend Ronny to be on time.

Ronny arrived in a cloud of dust, horn honking and tires screeching. He pulled over and braked abruptly. He got out of the car, slammed the door and walked over to Johnny who was waiting for him outside. He greeted the relatives, friends and few neighbors who showed up for the occasion. He was outwardly menacing with his short military haircut, paramilitary uniform, and handgun clearly visible at his belt.

On the way to the port, Johnny remained silent, lost in his thoughts, wondering if his forged document could take him to the gates of Montreal. He was confident that crossing the Mediterranean Sea to Cyprus would go smoothly. The Cypriot authorities were known for their laxity. The flight to Paris should not be worrisome either. Things would become more complicated when the time came to board the plane for Montreal, his ultimate destination. Ronny's voice brought him back to reality.

-      Are you thinking of Hoda? Chou habibi, radaata yé1? Rony snickered, hilarious.

Johnny revealed an embarrassing smile but did not react to his friend’s naughty innuendo. His romantic getaway with Hoda the day before was already a distant memory.

-     Since you're leaving the country, do you have any objections to me courting Hoda ? She's hot and loosey-vavoosey ! Rony sneered, with a salacious look on his face.

Johnny shrugged in indifference. It was common knowledge that Hoda was promiscuous and that Ronny had a wandering penis. The two were destined to become lovers.

-      Even if I refuse, you'll still do as you please. Anyway, you should ask Hoda, Johnny replied.

Ronny scoffed and roared in satisfaction. He gratified his friend with a big pat on the shoulder. Johnny groaned in pain and almost hit his head on the car window. He glared at his friend, rolled his eyes and bit his lip but did not utter a word. Ronny was an impulsive and emotionally unpredictable guy who Johnny did not want to antagonize.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Ronny inserted a tape of Fayrouz, the famous Lebanese singer with the golden voice, and turned the sound up to maximum volume. The two companions settled comfortably in their seats while listening to a litany of love songs. The songs were so tinged with sadness that they caused Johnny to rethink his actions. Panic-stricken, he almost ordered his friend to turn around. He was afraid of failing, afraid of being in an unknown country, and afraid to speak a foreign language. He thought of Faten, his high school French teacher, and bitterly regretted not having made more of an effort to learn the French language. He put his hand in his jacket pocket and reached for the counterfeit immigration document. It was his only chance of survival, his lifeline. The contact comforted him. He found his inner strength, took a deep breath and whispered: Inch'Allah kheir2 !

Upon arriving at their destination, broke from his thoughts, got out of the car, bid farewell to his friend, grabbed his courage and his luggage and walked with a determined step towards the Cypriot boat.

He lingered on deck while taking one final look at Beirut. There were ruins everywhere. The sun set abruptly, drowned in the ocean, red with blood. The darkness fell suddenly, engulfing the shambles in a deathly and lugubrious atmosphere. A few beams of light shimmered faintly on the horizon, a vain attempt to give the capital a glimmer of hope. The guns and Kalashnikovs fell silent, plunging the city into an elusive peace and quiet even while it was buried under the rubble of an endless war.

The boat slowly moved away from the port.

Johnny’s long and perilous journey had just begun.

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             ⁽¹⁾    So, my dear, did you bottle-feed her?

               ⁽²⁾   God’s willing!