ALI FARHAN
ONE YEAR LATER
The refugees settled in well. They did their work, they got their homes. Easy. Then they started to spread the news. Every month, one or two refugees would come, and every refugee was accepted. Some were troublesome, but a few weeks living on a river quickly put them in order. Now two whole families came.
“No,” said the old man. “We cannot possibly fit with ten people.”
“Please, Uncle. We can build homes for them, you won’t even have to do a thing!”
“Fine. Leave me out of this refugees program you have, and keep our house on the edge of this village you want to build, and then we’re done.”
And this happened. More and more refugees came, outnumbering the original twelve inhabitants five to one, and more unpleasant types came in as well. Ali had learnt, more or less, to use a sword (he had spend all his money he earned for a month for one, hoping he’d get better at hunting), and he was practicing when a particularly nasty man got into an argument with Anki over some leak in Anki’s boat.
“It took me weeks to build that boat!” roared Anki. “And you have come in with your great big dagger and put a hole in it!”
“It’s not my fault that it slipped from my hand,” whined the man in his nasal voice.
“And it somehow carved a hole in the boat by itself, did it?” snorted Anki. “You’re trying to get me back for that time I shot the rabbit you missed! All those rabbits! And the bird, and the deer!” (Anki was extraordinarily fit, despite his age).
The man turned scarlet, and Ali probably would have wondered why people turn bright red when angry, except that the following happened. The man pushed Anki, sharply. Anki stumbled, then tripped over into the river. It was at a rather fast-flowing point, and Anki couldn’t swim in waters of that speed. He thrashed in the water, and everyone called for the man do save him, but he just stood there, watching with either horror or triumph. Anki’s head struck a rock. Blood stained the water. Anki tried for one last, desperate grasp for the bank, but he hit another rock and went under. Everyone was speechless. Ali trembled with grief and fury. He clenched his fist on his sword, and stabbed the man right in the back of his neck. He dropped without a sound into the churning, red waters below.
“Now that Anki is.. incapacitated,” stuttered Ali, the rage gone and his face quite pale, “I shall now lead this community. And if a tragedy similar to this happen again…” a drop of blood fell off his sword. “You all know what to expect.”
He turned away and walked home.
