Boy, Everywhere, page 9
A wave crashed and my shoulder smashed into the man next to me, pain shooting up my arm. Shrieks rang around me as icy-cold water splashed all over us, drenching my face, and pouring over the side of the boat. I gasped as another strong wave whacked against the side of the boat and sent it tipping. I put my hands out as I slid into Mama’s legs, thankful to see she was still in the boat. Mama gripped the wooden bench, her chin on top of Sara’s head, trying to stop them both from slipping.
My body trembled and my tummy rolled. The tiny bit of bread I’d eaten on the way to the beach was now sloshing around violently inside me. Sara woke up, looked around, and then closed her eyes again, quickly nestling back into Mama’s chest, her fingers digging into Mama’s arms. The old lady next to Mama started crying and rocking back and forth.
My body started to shake uncontrollably. What if this is the beginning of the end? I panicked. What if we’ve made it all this way only to be swallowed by the sea?
I felt vomit rise in my throat as my stomach churned. If there were any more violent motions, I didn’t think I could hold it back. A cold puddle of seawater had formed from the splashes into the boat; my jeans were soaked through to my boxers. I tried to pull my jeans away from my moist skin, pinching the drenched denim as far from me as possible, but they stuck.
I tried to remember what Baba had explained in the apartment. Don’t panic. Just don’t inhale the water, I told myself, clamping my lips together as tightly as possible.
Smaller waves pounded the boat, heaving it upward. With each wave I begged God to get us to safety. Please Allah, please get us across quickly.
My prayers were interrupted by screams. I cast my eyes around to see where they were coming from and saw Mama and Baba looking behind them.
The dinghy had capsized. Its passengers were all in the sea, waving at us as they thrashed around in the water, screaming for help. There were so many. There had to be a hundred of them.
“Turn us around! Turn around!” Baba and some of the men yelled at the man in charge.
He shook his head and shouted back in English laced with a thick Turkish accent. “We are too many people. Take no more. No safe. Greek coastguard find them. No worry. They have life jacket. This happens!”
Mama squeezed Baba’s knee, giving him a long stare as he tried to get off his seat to stand up. He sat back down and rubbed his hand across his forehead. I looked away as his eyes fell on me.
We could hear children crying, women and men shouting. The sounds hit me in my gut. It was all happening too fast, but at the same time it was in slow motion. I could see shadowy figures holding on to an oval shape, which must have been the upside-down dinghy. I saw arms bobbing up and down in the sea, and then someone’s head emerged from the water, gasping for air before submerging again. I closed my eyes, that image locked into my head.
My heart started throbbing painfully. I couldn’t do anything but let the screams ring in my ears. I couldn’t watch all those frantic limbs slowly sink beneath the surface of the water. I looked around our boat and saw some frozen expressions, some people wailing with their faces in their hands, their bodies trembling. Their cries began enclosing me and my throat tightened, as if I was being suffocated.
Why was this happening to them—to us? What had we done to deserve it? What if Aadam had to get on a dinghy like that one? What if our captain had brought more people on this one—just a few more …
I felt overwhelmed. Exhausted, like a weight was pushing down on me. All I wanted was to get off the boat, but of course I couldn’t. It was rolling even more now. All I could do was pray for this nightmare to be over soon.
The air was cold and the clouds seemed close—much closer than normal. As if I could touch them. The hairs on my arms stood up. I wasn’t hot anymore, but freezing and shivering. I heard retching and twisted my head to see a bald man violently vomiting into a plastic bag, then quickly looked away.
Feeling helpless, I curled up, put my head into my knees, and clamped my eyes tight. I didn’t want to open them. My head buzzed, and all I wanted was to not see or hear or feel any more of this.
I tried to ignore the creaking of the boat and the roar and crash of the waves splashing over us by forcing myself to focus on Joseph. I tried to imagine him walking into school—if it was still standing—playing football, racing around the field, dodging all the defenders, and kicking the ball straight to the back of the net. He’d be shouting, “GOOOOOOAL!!!” and running to bounce his chest off mine to celebrate.
I hoped he knew I had to leave for Sara. That I had no choice.
Chapter 13
Hours later, the eerie silence on the boat suddenly erupted in rowdy chatter, making me lift my head. Still feeling nauseous, I looked up from my knees at the men cheering above me and stretched upward so I could see what they were pointing at.
A light flashed in the distance, where smaller waves were lashing against something tall and solid—rocks. LAND! AT LAST! I wanted to leap up, but my muscles felt weak and instead I almost fell into the legs behind me. We’ve made it. We’ve made it to Greece, I repeated to myself. Tears seeped out of my eyes, and I gasped, trying to get control of my breath.
The sky was pitch black with a few stars strewn across it. It was still the dead of night. If I was in Syria, I’d be asleep in my bed, I thought. The moon cut through the cold, thin mist that veiled us, and I was glad, knowing we couldn’t be seen.
Some of the men shouted, “Allah hu Akbar! God is the Greatest!” and jumped over the edge of the boat while the water was still waist-high, splashing through the sea to shore.
Baba sat calmly, so I waited to follow his lead. When the water got shallower, Baba began helping the women and children off. The old lady that had been sitting next to Mama sobbed in relief as she stepped into the waves.
Finally it was our turn, but my knees were locked from being squeezed into one position for so long and my jeans were soaked, making them stiff and heavy.
Mama grabbed Sara, her wet hair hanging down straight beneath her winter hat, and passed her to Baba, who went ahead of us. “Come—hurry, Sami.” Mama’s lips quivered as she took my numb fingers and helped me to my feet. My knees clicked and I stumbled as I lifted my right leg then the left. I felt dizzy, my eyes blurring for a few seconds before they refocused on Mama’s back.
Mama sat on the edge of the boat and slowly slipped her legs into the water. I copied her. The water was icy, but I focused on the shore and keeping a tight hold of Mama’s hand. She looked less steady than me, stumbling on a rock and almost falling as we approached the beach, like a baby learning to walk. Her legs wobbled every few steps.
We dashed through the shallow, freezing water and across the pebbly beach, our sodden shoes squelching beneath us. My Air Jordans were ruined. Why hadn’t I taken them off on the boat and held them? Baba had asked his friend to get them from abroad for me for my thirteenth birthday, last month. It was stupid to worry about that, I knew, but I had nothing left. Now my only pair of shoes would probably split open.
Baba and Sara neared a truck on the beach. I could hear the men in front of it arguing about something. Next to them, a group of relieved-looking guys from the boat were taking a selfie, probably to prove they’d made it. I gulped as the truck driver stepped away from the group and walked toward us with one hand in his jacket pocket and the other holding a big bright flashlight.
“Women, children, get in! Get in! Quick! Quick!” he shouted at us hoarsely. I looked at Baba, and my stomach lurched, wondering if he’d be left behind. I could see he was reaching into his backpack for money. It was all he’d done since we left, talk to strange men who asked for money and then asked for even more.
Where would we go now? Would we drive to a hotel or to another apartment? My insides quivered—I needed a bed. Anywhere would do, really.
There were twelve of us, including Mama, Baba, Sara, and me. There were no other children because most families probably didn’t have enough money to stay together.
We all huddled quietly into the back of the truck, settling in a small compartment at the front, just behind the wall of the driver’s cabin. There were no seats, and the tight space was dark and bare and smelled of dust and rust. The air was stale, like in a cellar that hadn’t been unlocked in years.
“You no talk. Be quiet all time, until I let out you. Unless you want be caught. Okay?” the driver said in broken English.
I flinched into Baba and took the deepest breath possible before the driver put back the small metal sheet he’d cut out of the false wall to get us all in. We were now cut off from the outside world.
Everyone was silent. I listened to the driver loading boxes onto the truck, my knuckle in my mouth. He was covering up the compartment wall. It seemed to take ages. I guessed he was filling the truck to make it look as if he was transporting goods.
There was no way of getting out without his help. My breath suddenly became shorter as I panicked at the thought of suffocating to death.
Baba put his hand on my chest. “Deep breaths, Sami. Slow it down.”
I focused on Baba’s hand and my breaths grew slower. I couldn’t see anyone’s expressions in the darkness, but I could feel the fear. The atmosphere was tense and silent, not cheerful and chatty, as I had imagined it would be after we’d made it to Europe safely.
I was stupid to think we would be making plans, that people would be smiling in relief. We still had so far to go.
The driver started the engine, and the floor beneath us rumbled. As the truck moved off, the smell of diesel wafted into the compartment, which I found comforting for a moment, a smell I knew. I opened my mouth to breathe and then snapped it shut again. What if they poisoned us? Was there even enough oxygen in this enclosed space for us all to survive?
I was squished between Baba’s legs, even though I wasn’t much smaller than him. The man next to us was a lot taller and wider and every time we hit a bump in the road, he fell into Baba and me. It hurt not only my muscles and bones—it hurt deep within, each bump reminding me of what my life had become.
I closed my eyes and tried to think about better times. Again. It was pretty much all I’d done to get me through the long days and miserable nights since we left. I missed Joseph. Even Tete. I missed my life. I missed home.
The silence was deafening. I felt as if we’d been swallowed by the darkness that surrounded us. We’re nothing in this black hole, I thought. Nobody in Greece even knows we exist. We could die and no one’s going to care.
I hated my brain sometimes. I shook my head to push the thought away. I had to stop thinking like that.
Sara was asleep in Mama’s arms. I could hear her inhaling deeply and exhaling with a wheeze. She was good at that—she could fall asleep anywhere. Not me. I had to be in a bed, or at least on a mattress with a thin blanket, like we’d had in Turkey. I thought back to my double bed at home, and my bones ached. I longed to switch off my thoughts and sleep, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about where we were and how we’d lost everything with barely any warning.
The memory of the shrieks and screams of the people from the capsized dinghy pierced my ears. I put my head between my knees, trying to block it out.
As my eyes welled up, I reached out for Mama’s hand on my left. I found it resting on her knee, shaking hard, her legs trembling too. I wanted to ask Mama exactly where we were heading next. I hated not knowing. I hated all the uncertainty. But she was scared too—I had to stay quiet.
I’d learned in geography that it was about five hours on a plane from Syria to England. But how long would it take in a truck? What if it took months? Mama had said we couldn’t get caught traveling to England. If we did, we would be forced to stay in the country we were caught in. We’d made it through Syria, Lebanon, and Turkey, and now we had to get through Greece to get to England.
It wasn’t long before I felt hot even though my bottom half was clammy. I couldn’t take any of my clothes off, not even my woolen hat, because there was no room to move. My damp jeans chafed my inner thighs, but I couldn’t pinch them off me.
There was a small vent in the wall in front of us, which allowed in some air from the front of the driver’s cabin as he drove. I wondered if he had his window down. It smelled like it hadn’t ever been opened. How many Syrians made this journey before us? How many of them made it to England in one piece?
* * *
After a few hours of driving along bumpy roads, I was desperate to go to the toilet. My stomach ached from holding it in, but I couldn’t any longer.
“Baba,” I whispered. “I—I need the bottle.…” The truck driver had given us empty Coke bottles to pee in, but I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to use it. Baba passed it into my right hand. I unscrewed the top and unzipped my jeans.
It was so humiliating doing it in front of everyone, even though no one could see me. I tried, but nothing came out for a few seconds, and then all of a sudden, I missed the bottle. Warm liquid trickled down my hand and onto my jeans. Ugh.
I forced myself to stop, wiped my wet hand on my leg, and tried again. This time I made sure it couldn’t go anywhere but in the bottle. The blood in my ears throbbed loudly. I was sure everyone could hear my heart beating.
I finished, screwed the lid firmly back on, and then zipped up my jeans. Everyone would’ve heard what I was doing, but hopefully they didn’t know it was me.
Thank God it wasn’t long before the driver stopped the truck. He removed the boxes, then the metal sheet to the compartment, and beckoned us to crawl out. But by then we could hardly move our muscles after being trapped in that little space. Painful cramps threaded through me as I shuffled over to the gap. I thought sitting on that overcrowded boat for a few hours was bad, but, man, this was painful. Once I managed to get out of the small rectangular hole, I stretched out across the truck floor before standing tall. Baba waited behind me patiently, then did exactly the same.
We stretched our legs, ate some bread, and sipped on some water. Then, while the women and Sara went somewhere to relieve themselves where we couldn’t see them, we poured the bottles we’d used in the truck out onto a field at arm’s length.
The driver clapped his hands—a signal to climb back into the truck. As we waited in line, I felt like an animal, herded in and out of a cage.
A short old lady stood next to me, and the scent of Vicks VapoRub filled my nostrils, taking me right back to Tete’s bedroom, which always smelled of Vicks. Sorrow stabbed at my heart—Tete was a part of us, our life. I remembered the coolness and quietness of Tete’s courtyard, sitting there doing my homework while listening to the water trickling down the beautiful tiled fountain. She’d bring me snacks as I worked and kiss me on my forehead, looking at me as if I was the best thing in her life. I should’ve spent more time with her. I stroked Jiddo’s ring. Would I ever see her again?
The driver shouted, “Come! Quick! Must move!”
I pulled in the scent of menthol and eucalyptus as deeply as I could as the old lady hobbled away from me to join the back of the line and took her comforting grandma scent with her.

We’d been traveling in the truck for what felt like two days when it parked in a forest. We all piled out just as the sun was setting and stretched our sore, aching limbs. I looked around the hilly area and at the city lights spread out before us, thousands of houses all built up together. It reminded me of the view of Damascus from Mount Qasioun: sparkling buildings and lit roads snaking their way through the city. I wished I was sitting in a café on the Mount, looking over my home, watching the minarets of the Umayyad Mosque bathed in green light.
“Right, we in Athens,” the driver told us. “If someone come you collect, wait here. This agreed pick-up location.” His bloodshot eyes with their dark-gray bags were disturbing. Thank God he’d managed to stay awake for so long with hardly any sleep.
I blinked in relief that we wouldn’t be getting back in the truck. But what if we were getting picked up by another one? How were we going to get to England from here?
The Vicks VapoRub lady walked away from the group over to a grassy area and dropped onto her knees, weeping as her forehead touched the ground. Some of the men, including the burly one we’d sat beside, walked off into the distance.
“Two days I be driving. I go home to bed,” the driver said to Baba with a half-hearted smile. Baba went to talk to him while Mama, Sara, and I stepped forward to gaze at the view.
A cool breeze rustled the leaves around us. The sky bathed the city in shades of orangey-red. Mama took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds then puffed her cheeks out as if she was blowing up a balloon. She tapped my shoulder and said, “Shake your legs, Sami, loosen them up again,” as she kicked her right leg and shook her foot forcefully, making her whole leg tremble. Sara pulled on Mama’s jacket, her little arms shaking as Mama moved beside her.
“Come on, kick your legs, Thumbelina,” I said to Sara, flexing my legs out one after the other.
Sara looked at me and said nothing. Not even a smile. She looked tired. I wondered what on earth she was thinking. Did she even know where we were and why we were doing this? Poor thing.
As we stood there stretching, a tall man in a black leather jacket with short, gray hair approached Baba. The man studied Baba’s face carefully and then broke out into a huge, warm smile. Baba rushed toward him, and the man reached out to hug him.
“Tarek! Let’s go!”
“Ah! Daichi! So good to see you, my friend,” Baba said in English, wrapping his arms around Daichi tightly. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Only a couple of hours. It’s fine. Don’t worry!”
“You haven’t changed a bit! We should never have left it this long!”
