Crack

Michael endures hardship for his family, while Karim clings to faith in a war-torn world.

Crack

By Ahmed Elfeky

Beeville, Southern Texas
"I pray for you every day, Michael darlin', for everything you've done for me and this house."          
         Mrs. Davis's words barely made it through the tractor's noise to Michaels's ears. He turned the tractor off.          
         "May the Lord bless you real good for all you do. May Saint Raphael keep you safe from any sickness or harm, and I'm callin' on sweet Jesus to watch over you, keepin' you safe from the fires of hell."
         He smiled. After nine hours of work on Mrs. Davis's farm, he couldn't do more than smile and walk away.
         In his pickup truck, he was on autopilot, driving through green upon green the countryside. He knew every ranch by heart, and he worked on most of them at one point or another. Beeville is his home and life. He was born there. He grew up with his brother, dropped out of high school, fell in love, got married, and buried both his parents in Beeville.
         Before he knew it, he was pulling in at his home. The one he inherited from his parents. The home that houses his beautiful family.
         "Daddy!"
         Michael's regrets of the past, pains of the day, and fears of tomorrow vanished as soon as he saw Sophia. He always says that she is the light of his life. He was nineteen when he had her, one year after both his parents died.
         He turns of car looking at his house and family that awaited him at its door. He breathes in God's blessing. Once he is out of the car, Sophia ran toward her dad jumping in his safe hug.
         "I missed you, princess."
         His wife, carrying their newborn, Elias, awaited him at the door. Carrying a third of his world, Michael walked to the door to unite with his other two thirds. Michael left a kiss on both their foreheads. Looking at Elias, he wondered if this kid is going to grow up with no father around. Is this the kind of father he wanted to be?
         When Michael entered the house, he saw the dinner ready on the table. His wife smiled at him. He knew without a doubt in his heart that she is the love of his life. Therefore, he consequently knew that she is the one who shared his suffering the most. He went to the restroom, and washed his hands, not breaking eye contact with himself in the mirror. He goes back to his awaiting family at the dinner table.
         Rose held her husband's hand under the dinner table. She tightly pressed and smiled at him. He forced his smile back.
         "Daddy, today in school, Ms. Jones said--"
         "Sophia, let your father eat!" Rose stared at her daughter.
         "Let her tell me, Rose. I haven't seen her all day." Rose looked down at the table. "What did Ms. Jones tell you, princess?"
         "I said that you work on an oil rig, and she told the class that jobs like that kill the environment. But I didn't let it go. I told her that my dad works two jobs and very hard..."
         Michael looked at his plate. He was counting the beans. He wondered if he was actually killing the environment. Is he balancing the three weeks of oil rig work with the one week he works on Mrs. Davis's farm? Well, he didn't know, and he didn't care. He would rather kill the environment than let the world kill his family like it killed his parents.
         Rose saw the pain in Michael's face. Noticing that her daughter finished her plate and that her husband definitely had no appetite for anything but sleep, she sent Sophia to bed. In her lap sat Elias and in front of her sat her husband. Michael finally looked up, not at her, but at Elias. He smiled at him. Elias smiled back. A smile that warmed Michael's freezing heart. Afraid of getting to comfortable in this feeling, Michael got up.
         Rose watched her husband go and she set Elias on his chair. She cleaned up the table with disappointment. She spent a couple of hour cooking and Michael didn't eat. Can she blame him though?
         Elias fell asleep in his chair. His mother picked him up and went into her daughter's room. She gave her a kiss and mediated kisses between Sophia and Elias. Carrying the later she walked back to her room.
         "Did you kiss Sophia goodnight?" Rose asked, walking into the room and finding that Michael was already in bed.
         "I always do. At least when I can."
         "Baby, don't be too hard on yourself. You have to know that we really appreciate what you do for us. I can't imagine how scary it is to spend three weeks every month in the middle of the ocean, working and sleeping in God knows what conditions. And the week you return home, you spend most of it working at Mrs. Davis's. You sacrificed yourself for us, love." Rose saw the lines of distress on her husband's face. She saw the pain that never escaped his lips.
         "Honey, you can talk to me. I'm your partner. You can lean on me whenever you want. You don't have to hide how you feel from me." She looked at Michael. She saw how he changed. He isn't the sweetheart boy who proposed to her when they were eighteen. He is a different man now. A man who was carrying the weight of the whole world on his back.
         In silence, she hugged him and took his head on her chest.
         "You can let it out, baby. You can cry."
         Michael didn't cry.
         He fell asleep in his wife's hug and woke up at four in the morning. He changed silently and took the bag that Rose packed for him the day before. He didn't want to wake her up; it had been 6 months in his new job, and she was used to seeing him leave. He landed a kiss on her forehead and another on their son's. He whispered, "For you. Anything for you."
         At Sophia's room he tiptoed inside. Sophia would cry if she woke up to him leaving like she did last month. He looked at her, enchanted by her sleeping smile. Looking at his watch, he discovered he spent ten minutes in her room. He gave her a kiss and went to his truck.
         Michael was on his way to the Port of Corpus Christi. There, a boat awaited him and his colleagues to send them on a three-week vacation in the hell of the Gulf of Mexico, the Poseidon Oil Rig.
         He knew he was heading to a dark night. A nightmare that will end in three weeks when he is back with his family. However, this night had one moon. His brother. The one who never left his side, even in his nightmares.

***

Amran, Yemen
         "As-salaam alaykum."          
         "Nadia, you're back early?"
         "I didn't feel well at work today, so I asked my colleague to substitute for my last two classes."
         "I was against you going to work while you're pregnant from the beginning! You need rest, and so does he." He pointed at her inflated belly.
         Nadia was used to hearing this lecture all the time. She kept wondering if Karim was actually serious. If she doesn't work, how will they live? She decided against getting into this argument, so instead, she asked him about his work.
         "Nadia, my love, I'm a baker. How can I bake with no flour? There is not a single bakery that opens for more than two hours in all of Amran. Oh Allah, how long will we stay in this misery!"
         "Karim, Allah is with us. He'll figure it out for us. He always does." Karim didn't respond.
         "How many years have we been married? Answer me, how many?" asked Nadia.
         "Eight years, my love. Best eight years of my life."
         "Yes, but haven't we been trying to have a kid to carry your name and lift us in this life when we're old. Eight years of us trying with no success. Eight years of tears in prayers. And Allah listened to us. Here I am, alhamduillah, due in two months." Nadia only realized that she was crying when she tasted the salty tear touching her lip.
         Karim got up from the couch and hugged his wife. Gently, he took her hijab off her head and kissed her forehead. With one hand, he played with her hair, and with the other, he wiped her tears.
         "Allahu Akbar. Allah is the greatest, indeed."

***

The Poseidon Oil Rig, Gulf of Mexico
         The castle. This is what they called it. Three floured floating giant housing 35 men. The rig ran on three things: heavy equipment capable of ending a life in the most creative and grotesque ways, alcohol, and testosterone. The sleeping quarters were on the upper deck. The lower deck, also known by the men, as the pit is the closest to the water. This is the housing for all the computers that control the drill. The main deck is the central hub of activity on the rig. This is where most of the work is done and where the control room is. The control room had two very distinctive features. The first is the surveillance tower that stood above it. The second is Master Cruz: the boss. With a can of beer in his hand he was always in the control room shouting orders through his walkie-talkie. In other words, with the fierce of a bear and the preciseness of a maestro he led the Poseidon Oil Rig.
         On the main deck the Engineers supervised and the rough necks were slaved into work. Two rough necks stood out; they never complained and always got the job done, Isaac and Michael White.
         "Man, they gotta make this week back home fucking longer! There is this girl I have been tryna fuck, but every time I'm so close, I find myself back here for three weeks." Isaac's yells got lost in the roars of the drill.
         "What are you talking about Izzy?"
         "You motherfucker! Are you ever gonna stop calling me that?" Isaac tried everything to lose that nickname that his grandma gave him. He covered his body in tattoos, had a bullet in his arm, grew a seven-inch beard, and worked on an oil rig. But still, he couldn't make Michael forget about it. "For real man, I'm not a fucking twelve-year-old girl."
         Michael smiled. He was never able to get in the habit of talking and working. Especially when he was handling a couple hundred-thousand-pound drill. He thought about quitting the job the first time he saw it, but Isaac "talked" him into it.
         "Mike!"
         "Izzy, shut the fuck up and work. We need to keep this fucking circulation pump cranking, or we gonna be here all fucking night."
         "Mike, the kelly's chain looks a little loose." Isaac pointed towards the monstrous chain that held the drill together.
         "Shit! Come here, take my place."
         "Be careful, Mike, or you will lose us both a couple of limbs."
         "You scared?" That was the first time Michael laughed since he got on the rig three days ago.
         "Pull, man, fucking pull! For Christ's sake!"
         Isaac watched Michael pull on the chain as he wrapped it around the drill. Isaac always struggled to comprehend the power Michael had over this machine. The drill that dug out millions of gallons of black gold. The drill that defeated Earth's crust in the middle of the ocean couldn't beat Michael.
         With his mighty power, Michael got the drill under control. His brother hyped him up and smacked their hands together for a high five. Isaac then noticed his brother's torn gloves and bleeding right hand.
         "I will find a first aid kit and get you something for your hand." Isaac left Michael staring at his bloody hand and ripped glove.
         The stars were beginning to come out of their hiding above Michael. It must've been seven already, Michael thought.
"Twelve hours of hustlin' can get any man to collapse, but our twelve hours are fucking suicide." Isaac was back with some band-aid.
         "You know, man, I sometimes wonder if anyone knows. If anyone knows what we do here. If anyone knows the fucking shit hole we live in. Like, I ask myself if my daughter knows what I do for her and her brother. Her brother... I fear he will become me one day. I won't fucking let him tho. All my kids are getting PhDs. Man. Sophia, she can be a doctor. And Elias...He will be an engineer. Not on an oil rig tho." Michael knew the stars were intrigued by his words, so he decided to continue. "Even Rose man. This woman gave me everything, and I can't give her security. I'm not able to give her faith in tomorrow and not worry about taking one of the children to a hospital. And for me to try to do it, I have to torture and kill myself and not be able to see my kids grow. Jesus. I fear that life is becoming stronger than us. I fear that it will swallow us."
         "What will, life or the fucking drill? Man the fuck up you pussy! Wanna start crying now or what?" Isaac punched Michael's shoulder.
Michael laughed.

***

Amran, Yemen
         "Today, we will talk about a very important narration of prophet Muhammed; peace be upon him." Nadia stood in the tiny classroom.
         Nadia started her career as an elementary school mathematics teacher. But in the last seven years, she has found herself teaching mathematics, Arabic, and religion. The famine and war left very few people willing to teach. Nadia's ex-colleague once asked, "Why are we teaching these kids anyway? If they escape the death of hunger, they won't be able to escape the death of bombs." Nadia remembered this statement when she was faced with fifty-one boys displaying blank faces.
         "Class! We will cover a hadith of Prophet Muhammed; peace be upon him."
         The class finally answered in one voice, "Peace be upon him."
         "Last class, we discussed how our religion orders us to love and respect our parents. In this class, we will be talking specifically about loving our mothers."
         Motherhood was all that Nadia could think about. She promised God that if He granted her the gift of being a mother, she would be the best mother to her kids. She would raise them on Islam and protect them from the world. Even though, a lot of times, she doubted the latter.
         "Prophet Muhammed, peace be upon, was once approached by a man who asked, 'Oh Prophet of Allah, who among people is most deserving of my fine treatment?' He answered, 'Your mother.' He asked again, 'Who next?' 'Your mother.', the Prophet re-answered. 'Who next?' 'Your mother.' But the man asked a fourth time, and this time, the Prophet said, 'Then your father.' Therefore, class, the Prophet has ordered us to treat our mothers with love and kindness before anyone else, even our fathers."
         The class listened and nodded their heads to the lecture they had heard since the day they were born.
         "So, Ahmed, who is the person you love the most?"
         "My mother!"
         "What about you, Youssef?"
         "Of course, my mother, Ms. Nadia?"
         "And you, Ibrahim?"
         Ibrahim looked to the ground as if the question made him shy.
         "Ibrahim, the answer shouldn't be hard. Ibrah--"
         "My father." Ibrahim was still looking to the ground.
         "But Ibrahim Habibi, the Prophet, asked us to--"
         "Ms. Nadia, the Americans killed my mom. I only have my father now."
         The class was silent, and only then did Nadia notice the tears flooding from Ibrahim's eyes. 'How many mothers did this war take?' Nadia wondered. It isn't fair.
         "A martyr. She is heaven, my darling." Nadia said as the rest of the class echoed her words.

***

The Poseidon Oil Rig, Gulf of Mexico
         "Mike, wake up!"
         Mike must have been extremely tired. Not only did he not hear the rig's deafening sirens, but he also didn't smell Isaac's sickening beer breath two inches from his face.
         "What the fuck is going on!" Michael's ears were pulsing.
         "White squall!
         When a monstrous storm unexpectedly hits, with thirty-five-foot waves and flooding rain, there is only one expected response on the Poseidon Oil Rig: chaos. Flashlights were out, and everyone was running. The now awake men left the sleeping quarters and were speeding down ladders that led to the main deck. There, as expected, they found Master Cruz in the control room.
         "Alight soldiers! Let's show Poseidon what his children can fucking do."
         'Did he just call us soldiers?' Michael wondered, looking at his boss or, as he calls himself, "Master Cruz".
         "We ain't fucking drowning tonight. We're gonna defeat the fucking ocean!" Master Cruz held on to the railing with one hand and a bottle of beer occupied the other.
         "Izzy, the drill. Let's go!"
         The Poseidon's workers were trained on how to handle most emergencies. Michael's and Isaac's role was crucial. They had to turn the drill off. But that can only be done from the pit. The brothers ran to the trap door that led to the lower deck. And they started climbing down the ladder.
         "Holy shit!" Isaac and Michael didn't know how bad it was until they went down to the drill floor. The drill was drowning in at least three feet of water.
         "We have to turn off all the drilling and derrick machinery. Mike, get to the drill control!"
         Mike tried to figure out a safe pathway to the drill control. There was none. He had to swim over the wires.
         "Mike, be careful! I don't wanna die electrocuted!"
         "Are u scared or what, Izzy?"
         Mike knew that his brother was scared. He knew that Isaac was claustrophobic. No one knew that but him. The mighty Isaac was scared.
         "Nah, with you till death."
         "With you till death."
         The water kept rising at a scary rate. The water has already passed Michael's shoulders in less than ten minutes. Then, the event that was feared occurred.
         "Mike! I can't see shit. Mike!"
         "I'm right here, Izzy."
         "No, man, I can't fucking breathe. I can't even see my hands. I can't breathe, man."
         "Calm the fuck down, I'm trying to find you."
         Mike was swimming in the ocean's dark room. He was taking very delicate strokes, trying not to touch any of the wires that were then floating everywhere.
         "Mike! I swear to God, I can't breathe. I'm fucking claustrophobic! I will die."
         Mike's hands touched Isaac's back.
         "I'm here; I got you, man. We're gonna find our way out to the main deck. Just hold on to me."
         Michael used his arm as a cane around the blinding room. He was hunting for the ladder, this grave's only entry and exit. Isaac's hands, holding onto Michaels's back, were trembling in fear. Michael was breathing heavily, seeing only one thing ahead: getting home to his family. But when he felt his body being aggressively lifted by the water and his head touching the ceiling of the room, with barely any space for them to breathe, he knew that the end was near.

***

Amran, Yemen
         "Kids, where is Ms. Nadia?"
         "We don't know."
         "No, we do! Ms. Asma, Yahia is not telling the truth. Ms. Nadia was writing on the board, and then" Ibrahim hesitated to continue.
         "Continue, Ibrahim. Then what?" Ms. Asma started to get worried about her friend.
         "And then there...there was water on her pants and Yahia said, 'Ms. Nadia, did you pee your pants?' and he started laughing. Then she ran out of the classroom."
         'There was no way. She is still in her seventh month.', Asma thought as she rushed to the bathroom.
         Running to the bathroom Asma found Nadia sitting on the toilet crying.
         "Nadia, what's wrong? Come here, dear. Are you okay?"
         "I think my water broke." Nadia was sobbing and her hands were shaking. "I'm still not due in at least forty days. Ya Allah, I am so scared. I don't want him to die. Please, God."
         "Shh! Don't say that; it won't happen. I'll call an ambulance immediately and get you to the hospital."
         On the phone, Asma's face turned yellow.
         "What! What do you mean? How do we get there then? I don't care about the gas shortage! I'm telling you her water broke."
         Nadia knew. No one had gas in Amran, not even the hospitals.
         "Call Karim. Call my husband, please."
         The nearest hospital was fifty miles away. It took Karim almost five hours to find a car willing to take them there. He offered the driver money; he knew he couldn't afford it. And finally, he was able to get to his wife six hours after her water broke. His heart sank when he saw her colorless face. Without words, he took her to the car and looked her in her eyes.
         "My love, we are going to make it. Look at me. In a few hours inshallah, we will have our son with us."
         "Ya Allah, please don't bring us this close and then take it away."
         "Nadia, don't say that. God is the best of planners. He will protect us. He won't let us go."
         A couple hours of driving was between Karim's and Nadia's lifelong prayer to be realized.

***

The Poseidon Oil Rig, Gulf of Mexico
"Keep going, man. Don't stop! I can see the light. We are almost there."
         "Why do I feel that the ladder got longer?" Isaac was joking now that he wasn't suffocating in the dark room.
         At the end of the ladder, Michael felt waves of heat coming their way. And as soon as they both stepped out, they realized they should have stayed down there. The main deck was on fire. Michael stared at the hell that was unfolding in front of him. His eyes were glowing with flames of fire inside of them.
         "Mike, the control room!"
         The control room was in the middle of the main deck. Fire was spreading in all directions. Shielding their faces from the blaze around them, they ran, stepping over the burned corpses of their colleagues. Michael even noticed Master Cruz's burned face; still, he held his beer in his right hand.
         They got to the control room, and Michael locked the door.
         "What, you think the lock will stop the fire?" Isaac laughed out loud. His laughter fit in very well with the crackle of the fire.
         "What should we do!" Isaac didn't answer. He was just laughing.
         "Isaac, you son of a bitch! Think with me, what should we do?"
         Isaac stopped laughing and stared at Michael.
         "This is the first time in your life you don't call me Izzy. It feels weird, man. I don't like it. Call me Izzy, please."
         "Fuck you, Isaac! We need to figure a way out."
         "Not before you call me Izzy."
         "Isaac, what's the matter with you!"
         "I fucking told you, call me Izzy!"
         The ground shook from the impact. The control room, along with the surveillance tower that stood above it, collapsed over Michael and Isaac.
         It was the sky, the clouds, the metal sheets of the tower, the bricks of the room, the two brothers, the rig, and the deep ocean. They laid under the rubble 10 feet across each other.
         "Remember when we used to bury our bodies under the sand? When we used to go to the beach when we were kids."
         Michael opened his eyes, slowly comprehending what had happened. He and Isaac were under the rubble. The destroyed room temporarily protected them from the fire that surrounded them from every direction. He tried moving and pushing the sheets of metal and bricks from on top of him.
         "Mike. Mike! Stop. There's no way out, man. Remember when we used to bury our bodies under the sand? Remember how weak our muscles were and how we trapped ourselves and couldn't get out? And we kept calling and screaming for help. Remember who came to save us?"
         Michael was silent and closed his eyes as he lay flat on his back under the rubble.
         "Mike, remember?"
         "Yeah... Dad came to save us."
         "Exactly. Mike, dad isn't here anymore. There is no saving us."
         "No, there is! There is! I'll get us out of here. I promised him I would protect you. I promised Rose that I would take care of her. I promised Sophia that I would be back. For God's fucking sake, I promised Elias I would never let him be like me!"
         "Mike. Mike, look at me."
         Michael and Isaac locked eyes under the rubble. Michael saw the waves of fire approaching his brother's back.
         "Thank you, Mike, for everything. I always looked up to you. You're an honorable man, my brother. Don't you fucking cry! Don't you disappoint dad and crack now. We lived as men, and we'll die as men."
         The fire was eating the rubble from around them. Isaac felt the heat inches from his back.
         "I love you, Mike."
         Isaac screamed as he rolled from under the rubble into the blazing fire. Michael watched the greedy fire latch onto his brother's body. He saw his, once-solid, body melt. He saw Isaac's skin decompose into boiling droplets. Michael was powerlessly watching the monster swallowing his brother in slow motion. His left arm first and then his legs. The fire was spreading upwards consuming his body, inch by inch. And then it reached his face, and Michael closed his eyes. The feeling of betraying his brother burned his heart.
         He cracked. His tears escaped.
         "I love you too, Izzy. I love you too."
         He knew that the monster that had just devoured his brother was on its way to do the same to him. The pain crawled inside his head through his eyebrows. It stung his eyes from the inside. He saw it. He knew what it was. An uncomfortable welcome. Death awaited him. As the heat approached him, he felt his soul in his throat.
         He rolled his eyes backward and saw a helicopter approaching the rig.

***

Amran, Yemen
         "You have to let her in!" Karim was holding himself back from choking the doctor to death.
         "Sir, I told you we can't do that! You have to pay first."
         "You son of a bitch! I'm telling you, my wife's water broke over eight hours ago! She's only thirty weeks pregnant. She's going to die!"
         Nadia's hands slipped off Karim's arm and fell to the ground.
         "My wife! For Allah's sake, help!"
         Doctors showed up out of nowhere running towards Karim and Nadia. They helped Karim put Nadia on a gurney and rushed her to the emergency room.
         "Ya Alllah, help us! Ya Allah!"
         "Karim, I love you. I love you and thank Allah for whatever he brings us. Oh Karim, alhamduillah."
         Running through the hallways of the hospital, Karim and the doctors were pushing the gurney. Karim cried as he held his wife's hand. He cried as he looked up, asking God for aid. He cried outside the emergency room, begging God to make his wife and son return to him. But when he heard every artificial sound fade into nothingness, when he saw the ceiling lights disappear, and when he witnessed darkness invading the hallways of the hospital, he knew that God's time has ran out.
         In the darkness of the hallway, he sobbed.
         Then he stopped when he heard Nadia's heart crack.

***

Beeville, Southern Texas
         "Ms. Jones, we got a complaint about you from Mrs. White, Sophia's mother. She says that you degraded what Mr. White does for a living and that Sophia is very hurt because of it."
         "Mr. Miller, with all due respect, I stated facts. The guy works on an oil rig. He does kill the environment."
         "Ms. Jones, it is not your job to spread your opinion about different occupations to the children you teach. I didn't call you here to argue about it. This is a warning. Don't bring it up with Sophia again. Understood?"
         Ms. Jones sought refuge in the teacher's lounge. She spread the news that the principal threatened to fire her because she cares for the environment.
         One of her colleagues burst into the room with a newspaper in his hand.
         "Ms. Jones, did you read this article?"
         "Which one? Let me see." Silently her eyes read the bold title at the top of the page, 'Yemen's Heart-Wrenching Crisis: Tragedy Unfolds as Gas Shortage and Hospital Power Loss Claim Lives of Expectant Mother and Newborn'.
         "No, not this page. The next one."
         Her eyes shifted to the page on the right as they scanned, 'Crisis in the Gulf: The Poseidon Oil Rig Explosion Claims All 35 Lives Onboard.'


         19