Ishmael's Oranges

by Claire Hajaj

Each man’s life involves the life of all men, each tale is but the fragment of a tale. Stephen Vizinczey

Something to live on, not just dreams. It was all very well for them to say. But what was life worth, once all the dreams have become dust?

It’s not how long you live somewhere that makes it a home. Home is a feeling here,’ she tapped his chest, ‘that you belong somewhere and somewhere belongs to you. But, I’ll tell you a secret, habibi. Some people don’t feel they belong anywhere. No matter where they are, they are always unhappy.’ Her voice shook. ‘They go from place to place trying to find peace. And usually they find themselves back where they started. It’s the greatest curse under heaven.’

They were innocents on a boat floating down a river, dipping their toes into unknown currents and gazing up together at the limitless sky.

Men don’t raise children. Women do. What those children learn, what they take into their hearts, will come from her. That’s why I say she’s taken on a big challenge. I hope you can guide her with it, or your kids will be as much of an Arab as she is.’

‘You can’t live in two cultures any more than you can have two hearts,’

‘Never being torn means choosing one.’

They were so cherished, those secret truths hidden inside their children, linking their old lives to this new one they were building together.

About the meanings of the names chosen for their children

‘It was a war – everyone was running. Didn’t the Jews run too, when the Nazis came? And when the Nazis stole what they left behind, did the Jews call that justice?’

With so many masks to wear, how do you remember who you are?

He was struck by the lunacy of it. The children of the war had grown up to fight each other over things that they scarcely even remembered.