Author: Hari Navarro, Staff Writer
The little girl clutches into her blankets and runs her cheek over the ancient concrete veins that etch into the great wall at her side.
“I love the wall. It is strong and tall and beautiful and long, isn’t it Dad?”, she says, thinking with the scrunch of her lips.
“Tell me, again, who built it, please…”
“Again? You’ve heard this story, maybe, and this is just a rough estimate, a bazillion trillion and two and a half times. How about you tell me the story?”, says her father as he looks out through their acid-strafed hermetic bubble, and across the undulating flotsam of the now dimming Sonoran wetland sea.
“Well, in the beginning, there were no houses on the wall. There was no monorail, no shops, there were no buildings at all sprouting up and out from its sides. There was nothing. Just wall. On one side, there was wall and on the other side there was more wall looking back at it. Why was it just a wall, Dad?”
“Because the man who built it wanted a barrier, not a city.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to stop people from crossing from one side to the other. Remember, there used to be a border where the wall stands now. Many years ago, before the deluge… before the resumption.”
“Why did they want to cross?”
“Many reasons. Running away from stuff. Running toward stuff. Running stuff… Hey, it’s time for sleep.”
“Dad.”
“Yes.”
“What’s your favourite drink?”
“Corn Squeezin’s.”
“That’s alcohol, isn’t it Dad?”
“It most certainly is.”
“Belen’s mum told her that her Dad came home so drunk the other night that his auto-pilot got arrested for drunk droning.”
“Christ, that reminds me, your father will be landing any minute. Best for us both that you be found deep in Sleepsville.”
“You’re scared of him, aren’t you Dad?”
“More than fear itself”, he smiles.
“They’re going to build a pool at my school.”
“A pool. In my day, there wasn’t enough water to drink, let alone swim in.”
“Yup, it’s going to be made of transparent polymer forged in New Qalqilya. It will go right through the wall from one side to the other, right under the football pitch. I think it’s much more fun that we all live here together, it’s better than a border, isn’t it Dad?”
“It is, and you’ll be able to swim from one side of the city to the other. But you really, really, really… did someone say really?… need to sleep.”
A silent alarm flashes, a signal of the family transport’s imminent arrival.
“Buenas noche, Dad.”
“Tisbah Ala Kheir, Gal. Go to sleep. Sleep. Eyelids getting heavy, shutting…”
There is a gentle scratching and the sound of hydraulic clamps locking, as the drone settles on the pad above their heads. Dimmed internal lights automate, and a decontamination lift whooshes into life and begins to lower from the ceiling.
“Dad?”
“Toilet?”
“Nope”, she says, awkwardly now sitting, her face burning in excited recognition as her father steps into the light. “Papa!”
“Glass of water?”, her father smiles as he kisses her Dad’s cheek and, tiredly, drops his briefcase, it too flopping to the floor with a resided sigh.
“No. When I’m big, I’m going to build walls. Huge strong walls that reach out across the dead water. And I will keep adding to them and adding to them until I find the lost tribes. We can all be together. Like a bridge. That will be good, won’t it?”, said the little girl, gesturing excitedly with the tentacle stubs of her shoulders.
Excellent, and on that note now I might be able to go to sleep.
Thank you Cat, your comments are much appreciated.
A fable-like tone and very topical (as Jae commented) undertone. Very good, Hari.
Thanks David. A fable-like bedtime story tone was what I was after. I just wanted this little girls innocence to bulldoze the prejudice and lay bare the obvious.
This warms my heart ❤️
Mission accomplished 🙂
I’m also reading this at work I was a bit slow off the mark getting to read your story this week. Thought it was great. I love how direct your writing is without it coming across as a lecture. I’d live on that wall
You have no idea how much I appreciate you taking the time to follow my work. Yes, I too, kind of (not really) now want Trumps monument to himself to be built. Then I can take a swim in that pool 🙂 .
No problem at all. I really enjoy your style of writing.
Reading this at work, awesome. Its now doing the rounds in the art department. Those guys are brutal but they love It.
I have no idea where you work Emma Brown, but, please do keep bending the rules by reading during work hours (Its good for the brain). Plus, if that art department ever feels like publishing a struggling, unknown, ruggedly handsome, writer then… I know this guy 😉
Lol Hari, Sorry but unless you start writing stories about womans beach fashion I cant help you.
Hmmm… now there’s a story prompt if ever I saw one 🙂
Topical and imaginative. Nicely done.
Minor point of order: ‘Tisbah Ala Kheir’ should be ‘Tisbah ala kheir’.
Many thanks Jae and I appreciate the correction, it is blaring now I see it 🙂
That was beautiful and sad and so current. I thought that if I heard the word wall again this week it would be the end of me. Now I see hope and integration. Thank you.
I’m very glad you had that reaction to my story. Thank you for reading.