Читать книгу An Unsafe Haven - Nada Jarrar Awar - Страница 13

It happens as they make their way back home, discussing the possible outcome of Maysoun’s search for Anas’s family, wondering what else they can do or say to comfort their friend.

They stop to cross the street at a busy intersection a few minutes away from their building, a traffic light that most drivers and pedestrians tend to ignore, and observe the chaos as drivers manoeuvre their vehicles through narrow gaps in the traffic, past cars that are double-parked on either side and between darting pedestrians. The small shops on either side of the road are also busy, women buying groceries on their return home from work, children running in and out of stationers for school supplies, people waiting to be served outside a sweetshop famous for its baqlawa and, on the pavement, constant movement.

Hannah is nervous because a group of refugees congregated at the intersection, as usual, do not seem wary enough of the cars whizzing past. It is getting dark and the street lights have not come on yet. The refugees are like shadows, she thinks, colourless and in some ways invisible to everyone else. She has seen them here before, remembers especially a young woman with a very young boy sitting together on the median strip running down the centre of the road. When night begins to fall, Hannah has watched the young woman wrap the boy tightly in her arms, both of them sitting very still, the little boy’s head on his mother’s shoulder, eyes open and searching. It is a disturbing sight.

Tonight, though, the little boy is up and about, moving between vehicles, at times running after them and begging for money. But before Hannah can point this out to Peter, the boy grabs the door handle of a large four-wheel drive and jumps on to the car just as the light changes and the vehicle begins to move forward. He is so small she is almost sure that the driver will not have seen him. The boy’s head snaps back and he is thrown off the car and on to the road with a heavy thud. The mother screams and the car immediately behind comes to an abrupt halt. Hannah and Peter run towards the child, gesturing to the vehicles on either side of the road to stop.

The driver of the four-wheel drive walks over to them.

—What happened? he asks anxiously. I swear I didn’t see him until it was too late.

People get out of their cars and come up to see what has happened.

Peter bends down to check on the boy as the mother tries to pick her son up, her wailing overwhelming the commotion around them. Hannah holds her back.

—My husband is a doctor, she says in a firm voice. Let him take care of your son.

Someone pulls the woman further away and she stands at a distance, whimpering quietly now.

—What was the child doing in the middle of the road? someone protests.

—They should have a policeman at this junction, another man says. It’s getting dangerous.

—It’s dangerous because these people insist on accosting us and begging for money.

—Is the child all right? Shouldn’t someone take him to hospital?

Hannah squats down beside Peter and watches him check the child’s pulse and gently pull up one of his eyelids. The little boy begins to stir.

Moments later, Peter turns to Hannah.

—I think he’s going to be OK. But it would be a good idea to take him to A & E to be properly checked. He has to be kept awake for a while to make sure he’s not concussed and that the shock hasn’t been too much for him.

He lifts the child off the ground and feels the back of his head.