I saw you at the mghaysil, Father.
It was my first time at work with you. Hammoudy was not with us and it was pitch dark. You had a candle in your hand.
I asked you, “Why don’t we wait until it’s morning and then start work?”
You smiled and said, “There is nothing but night here.”
I was surprised and asked, “Why?”
You said, “Have you forgotten that we are in the underworld, my son, and the sun doesn’t rise here?”
I felt a lump in my throat and a tear found its way to my cheek.
You wiped it and hugged me saying in an unusually loving tone: “Don’t worry, dear. Candles are enough for us to do our work and live a good life. You’ll get used to their light.”
It was the first time you ever called me “dear.” You asked me to follow you and showed me the bench and said, “This is where we put together the body parts al-Fartusi brings every day.” I was surprised that al-Fartusi was here as well.
You pointed to the cupboards, which I couldn’t see clearly, and said, “The needles, threads and glue are all there.” Then you pointed to wooden boxes which were stacked on the floor and said, “The feathers we use to cover the bodies are all in there.”
I asked, “Why do we have to cover their bodies with feathers?”
You smiled and said, “Do you still ask too many questions, son? This is what our ancestors did before and what our grandchildren will keep doing.”
You moved toward one of the cupboards and opened it. You took out a candle and lit it with the flame in your candle and handed it to me. I held it in my hand. Its flame illuminated more of the place. I saw legs and arms stacked in the corner and asked you about them.
“We will find a place for them in the bodies that come every day.”
“What about Ammoury and Hammoudy and the others? Are they here too?”
You didn’t answer. I saw an eye hanging on the wall by a thread and shedding tears. When I asked you about it you said, “It longs for another eye or perhaps it is crying for the sun.”
I asked you: “Are we alive or dead, father?”
You didn’t answer and blew out your candle and mine died too. I stayed alone in the dark listening to the tears falling from the eye on the wall until I woke up. The candle next to my head was choking and about to give out.