His Mission Crossed His Path

By Ahmed Thabet

A young man wakes up on a pavement with no sense of self and place.
His name is anonymous and his nationality is unknown. He doesn’t know his mother language even though he isn’t dumb. He is somewhere on earth but he doesn’t know the city in which he is lost and homeless. Moreover, he is looking for something he doesn’t know. It’s not an enigma but his life. At the first sign of the past a crime takes place. Flashbacks are enough to clear up somethings, but where is he? It remains a mystery and destiny aggravates it when it intervenes: divine retribution is sometimes a bequeathed mission to the descendants. Thus, he knows everything but he wishes he hadn’t known. Furthermore, he realizes that his war had already begun and now it’s the last battle.
A tale of finding one’s path, even if there is no idea where to begin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781528977210

Ahmed Thabet

Ahmed Thabet was born in Taiz, Yemen, on November 4, 1999. He is a multilingual person, speaking Arabic, English and German. He started writing since his childhood and wrote his first book at the age of sixteen. He currently lives in Germany.

Book preview

About The Author

Ahmed Thabet was born in Taiz, Yemen, on November 4, 1999. He is a multilingual person, speaking Arabic, English and German. He started writing since his childhood and wrote his first book at the age of sixteen. He currently lives in Germany.

Dedication

For the moments that can change someone’s life, turn tears of despair into tears of joy, do more than spells and magic wands can.

Copyright Information

© Ahmed Thabet 2021

The right of Ahmed Thabet to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528976855 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528977210 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2021

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank my parents who have encouraged and supported me throughout the journey since my childhood and who taught me how to hold a pencil before I became an author.

Part One

Chapter 1

In the dead of night when the wide pavements become so narrow, when the green trees are like logs or ghosts, when the breeze is cold and not enjoyable at all, when it’s snowing and you are freezing but you don’t feel it – just your body goes numb, when the blue skies are so gloomy and dark, when the white clouds are ugly and dark, when the yellow light of the street lamp is so dim and unhelpful to see, recognise anything or even know who you are, where you are and where you are going to. When you know that you are lost and you have no shelter or food, nevertheless you keep walking, walking and you continue walking. The wind whistles in your bare ears and hits your red face and your running nose. The world has no end and your way is your only destination – it’s open and so wide. Thirst can stop you in the middle of the way; you put your arm on a tree trunk and then you rest your head on it. You breathe rapidly as if you were going to die. Certainly, you wish a miracle would come on your way and get rid of your pain. Moments of rest for a sleepy and faint body in desperate need of some slurps of pure water or just drops from a water tap, and then life is so rosy – no matter how many hours a person will need to spend under the tap. When then you open your eyes and see that you still have the same standing position: tired, hungry, thirsty and want to sleep. Your faint body stops resisting and falls gradually to the ground. The sting of the cold ground in the winter season presses you to hate life more and more.

In that moment, a carton appears as a gift from God to a helpless person. You put the carton in front of a parapet and lean back. The cold becomes freezing as long as you are sitting and not sweating. Then it starts snowing and you start shivering: your hands, legs and everything alive in you. A teenager, not 20 years yet, must have a charity work – helping old people or little children. But on the contrary, he needs who can help him even in just knowing himself. His body is shivering as a machine working; he doesn’t know and he doesn’t remember, but his brain is still working and useful. He resists the tiredness and stands up looking for water sources. He keeps running and trying to overcome the freezing cold. Furthermore, a hope falls from the sky onto him to continue resisting. It starts snowing again and the snow falls on his head and his scruffy clothes. The tiny ice crystals reach his toes through the shoes’ holes and cuts. They cause pain to some toes and relieve some other toes suffering from swellings. His scruffy hair covers his forehead and forbids him from seeing at some moments. At a moment everything stops: his legs, his hands and even his eyes. Everything works for a limited time and a glimmer of hope is an incentive to make you work as never before but when the brain sends messages: ‘I can’t see what I’m looking for and I don’t know where it stands. I’m wasting my already lost time.’ So, reasonable justification from the brain to all the body parts; their leader and works in favour of them, therefore, they, all respond to give up. Then, the heart feels as if it had been deceived; actually, it’s the only thing that is still resisting with that hope! The eyelids shut as if it was a performance on the theatre and reaches its end as the teenager falls to the ground. The teenager passes out, and later at the crack of dawn he returns, shivering, and no one shows mercy or even cares, they treat it like any machine, working, and maybe the sound is a little annoying! It lightens but you only see a pitch-black night, a collapsed person will always be blind. The passers-by look at the lifeless body, but they will only help it if it’s trendy. Unfortunately, it’s scruffy and the dark golden hair hides behind the mud. The heart is still beating, refusing to give up, whereas the rational mind accepts the decision. The theatre will open again to complete the tragedy show. The teenager moves his hand, and the passers gather around him. Ten seconds! Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! The show starts and the two curtains get opened but not to the left and right side as any ordinary theatre! This time the curtains are pulled up and the teenager opens his eyelids. Hold your breath! A show of misery will start, but all of sudden a man breaks and destroys that event, and gives a bottle of water to the teenager. The crowd leaves the place a few seconds later, disappointed in that trivial and banal show where the teenager collapses and then the protagonist offers help to them and shows compassion. Where is the brutal and cruel enemy? The alternative show must be that the man kicks aside that mad person lying on the pavement and obstructing the passers’ path.

Indeed, life is only repeated events; what you encounter today will happen tomorrow but in different setting with different people. Every day you are in such situations where people want to deceive you; in your school and then in your work and so on…You love a friend, and he goes, then you find another loyal friend and like the first one goes. You try to be protective and secretive and you keep making lies in every alley and valley. It’s a fact, not a calumny!

We live new experiences, as the previous experiences with change in the decoration and the liar who says that he has learnt the lesson from each past experience. We just put it down to experience and continue repeating the same mistakes. Shocks in this life have no end. We suffer and struggle, and in the end, we celebrate the victory. Our victory is when we overcome the sadness inside us, when we fix our mistakes, when we forgive ourselves, and when we change our course from the wrong path to the right one. Happiness is an achievement for those conscientious people who sleep after they think about everything that happened during their day and of every person they dealt with. Did they do well with themselves? Did they do themselves or anyone an injustice and did they upset someone? In every moment there is a treasure and not a treasure after that moment passes. Many things are only priced at their time of birth.

When there are no morals, be a factory of morals for ‘yourself’, and when ethics become extinct, be an ethical school. Moreover, when they all sell their principles, be the customer. In this life nothing stays the same. Many things come and go but you are only one. Time is nothing when we have nothing, we are everything!

You are a treasure for yourself; you are so smart but never smart when being dishonest and deceitful. Your heart is so kind, nevertheless, under such circumstances the monster inside you comes out.

***

Once upon a time, a young man was lying on the pavement. He was so afraid that there was terror in his eyes. He was so tired, nonetheless, he stood up and looked around him. Then he remembered, but what he could remember was, that yesterday he collapsed on the pavement. His identity was unknown to him, and he hadn’t spoken to people for a long time. It seemed that he was deaf and dumb, especially when he was collapsing and bumping against the passers in the big squares full of people. He was that person walking hesitantly, and looking right and left, back and forth without any specific destination. At that moment of his life, his distress was when he saw a man holding in his hand a hot, crispy croissant had just been taken out of the oven. That moment was a calamity for a person who hadn’t eaten anything for a long time. His stomach was rumbling like hungry chicks calling their mother. The bakery wasn’t that far from him in the square, where the aroma of fresh bread and croissant wafted through. It was still the morning and the people were hurrying to get their favourite pastries and cakes. Behind the shop window there were pieces of cakes with offers that caused a poor person to slump to the ground disappointed. It wasn’t the right time to beg for the croissant, while the shop was crowded with customers. Definitely, no one would pay attention to him, if not scolding him. As the person started knowing himself newly, he realised that he was someone shy. He was getting to know himself more and more as someone strange in his life. He sat for a few seconds on the pavement, and noticed that all the passers were wearing jackets and coats no matter how low or high the quality was, but his clothes were frayed, dirty and worn!

He was the only one with dirty clothes, and he realised that he looked suspicious to the passers and the police. He started thinking what if he was a citizen would that help him?

…Maybe, but if he isn’t a citizen, that would lead him to deportation. Someone like him was suffering from amnesia, and he didn’t know what, how, or even why. The situation motivated him to think smart. He imagined himself in an official office and began to think of ways to know if he was a citizen or not. Immediately, he stood up and walked very close to the passers. He looked and focused on their lips to read them. Then he moved his ears to hear the people – yes, he had the ability to waggle his ears like few people can do. He could understand them so easily, but he didn’t know what language they were speaking. Anyways, he felt happy that he was in his nation. He thought to speak to himself, and make sure if he could speak the language fluently. He could speak fluently with the same accent, but he was stuttering for some reason. That youth became happier and thought to go to the nearest government institution. Something occurred to him and scared him – would they allow him to enter with this appalling appearance? He had no choice but to try, he had to try his luck, furthermore, he was a citizen in a country looked so prosperous. He strode forward along the way ahead of him because he was extremely hungry and tired. There, they would prepare a dwelling, food and everything for him. Some bad thoughts crossed his mind, but he ignored them because they might not be correct. Another question from those bad thoughts crossed his mind, what country is this? What is his nationality (and surely his refuge)?

He had nothing that could prove his identity, but now he had something to do first. At least, he should know the name of his country. He walked in the streets in search of just one national flag. It was nonsense to ask the passers such a silly question, ‘what is the name of this country?’ Of course, no one would give him even a look, if not a dirty one. He wasn’t a kid at all, he was tall enough for everybody to know that he was a teenager. Coincidentally, he found the flag he had been looking for, waving. All of a sudden, he exclaimed loudly, Argentina! At that moment, he motivated his brain to work again and return to its nature. At the end of the street, he found another flag fluttering. Someone absent-minded with a look of wonder; that should be him and his facial expression at the moment. Canada… He ignored what he had read and continued walking disappointed. Then he was surprised by a third flag, but he didn’t know to which country it belonged. Later he was shocked by fourth and fifth flag. Although he knew what countries they represented, in general he faced difficulties to remember. Obviously, it seemed that he was good at recognising the names of the countries from their flags. Nonetheless, he needed a lot of time to remember and match them to the map. Another idea came at the perfect time, an idea he should have thought of from the beginning. He must have asked about a government institution, there the flag would absolutely be. A dirty person with a bad smell, asking the passers while snowing, was absolutely in vain. He felt ashamed and stopped asking them, thinking about these embarrassing and degrading situations for a person hadn’t chosen this fact for himself, and he didn’t know how he had reached this low stage of poverty. But he was only sure about one thing, that he could speak the language of that country fluently. He felt tired and he couldn’t continue walking on the way. He wasn’t feeling his hands, they were numb, and his fingertips were tingling with cold and hurting him. They were causing a serious pain to him. He fisted his both hands to warm them but that was useless. He realised that he would die if he yielded and his only hope of survival, if he was to live, was the citizenship in this country. He thought that he had only one rescue attempt to save his life otherwise he would become like ‘The Little Match Girl’. He would die on the pavement and no one would ask about him or even care, he might lose his consciousness in an abandoned place and then his dead body would spoil there. He shuddered at the thought of being decomposed body, then his eyes shed tears one pushing the other. He was scared and frightened. His face transitioned from red, purple, yellow and then dark. He was red because he was running and purple because he was frozen cold, yellow, because he was terrified and finally, dark because he was staring death in the face. He rushed forward and decided to walk endlessly. Facing his death was much better for him than waiting for it. He ran and peered at the signs in the streets. Suddenly, he saw the prospective sign. He smiled as if he had seen the moon in his pocket. What was written on the sign was the key for him, it was written in two languages. One of them was in English: ‘The Royal Palace of Madrid’. And thus, the other language was in Spanish.

I’m in Spain and I can speak Spanish fluently, he said gladly. Thereafter, he decided to go directly to the nearest police station or any official office. At the time, he didn’t think how the people would interact with him if he asked them the way there or inquired, because he had in this country rights as the ones they had. He asked the first one, but he ignored him, then he asked the second but he stared blankly at him. The third one mocked him, nonetheless, he kept asking not caring about anything. Because he was happy, he felt that as the peels of an orange. The peels are always sour even if taken after a shower, but the tasty favour lied underneath. The fourth one answered him and left quickly. Then the teenager hurried forward, thinking he might pursue the path of his youth, before it’s too late and better is to book a grave. He could memorise the way quite easily, although the roads and the paths were slippery and everyone was sliding. Some of them were nimble while some others were falling upon their backs, and some in other ways; everyone has got their own skills, giving him the chance to see circus performers. However, the way to the nearest official office was about fifteen minutes by car as the man said. Twenty minutes later, he was tired and the address seemed far and a little bit difficult. He needed to ask the way again instead of taking a wrong way. After two tries someone nice helped him. The teenager licked his dry lips and gasped. Then he ran for ten minutes more continuously, but thereafter he couldn’t continue without stopping and gasping. A long break was taken by him but he felt even warmer. He hurt his toes badly but that was to rescue his life. Now, he was running for 50 minutes and he reached the moment where he felt like he was dying and was extremely thirsty. His lips looked chapped and his tongue turned white. He would beg anyone to give him a glass of water even if it wasn’t enough to quench his thirst at all. He was longing for a big bottle of water. Unfortunately, he couldn’t get drops of water because he didn’t try to get even one. He was not so far from his destination; thus his brain sent some optimism to the heart and a great power was created. It pushed him along his way uphill and downhill. He saw the creek that was mentioned in the address. That was so auspicious for him, and made him run faster and faster than before. He treaded on many bars of melted snow on the pavement. Suddenly at dusk, he lost his balance and tumbled over to slip then from the pavement and fall into the creek. At these moments, he could only see the darkness and the terror controlled him, making him paralysed with fear. He didn’t shout and he didn’t call for help. He screamed only once reacting to these horrible moments as any normal person would do. But between the moment that he was on the pavement and the moment he became in the creek, there was a moment, where he screamed inwards, asking himself as someone didn’t believe to die in a blink of an eye. ‘No, no that isn’t my end! It’s not going to be like this. Something will happen, someone will help me. I won’t fall in this creek,’ but indeed, at the moment he was falling in the creek, and his body began to touch the surface of the water. He was convinced of his death. He was getting deep in the water, deeper and deeper! Like a person jumped into a swimming pool and still drowning downwards, but how deep was the creek? It was a rainy season.

The teenager was reaching the bottom and didn’t know what to do. He believed that he was not taught how to swim. His desire to live and the will in his heart were pushed by the blood. His heart was palpitating as it had never done. His hands, legs, feet and even his toes and fingers wiggled pushing him upwards. He found his head above the water. Instantly, he felt shivers as a blast of cold air hit him. He felt so cold and tired. A man was looking for him in the water and trying to pull him out. Then some passers gathered to help the man and the teenager.

Your hand! Give me your hand! The man said loudly, but the teenager didn’t exert force because he was panicked and exhausted. Indeed, when he saw many people trying to help, he stopped being anxious and relied on them. The man walked downwards the narrow, earthy embankment, then he crouched stretching out his hands into the water. Another man was standing behind him to help. The teenager held onto a handhold and then they pulled him out of the creek safely. The teenager shivered in a terrible and horrible way until he lost his consciousness. The women there screamed frighteningly as they saw that scene. The children were shocked and then their parents took them and left. Immediately, most of the crowd left, leaving the man with the teenager alone. It was a huge responsibility and no one wanted to help with money. The man was twenty-seven years old and he had the physical strength to hold the teenager, however, he hadn’t enough money to take the teenager to the hospital. Also, the teenager’s clothes showed that he mightn’t be able to pay or even support himself. Therefore, the man held him on his back and took him to his house behind the creek. The man’s apartment was under the ground, and looked like a cellar. It was forty-five square meters, with one window above the wall; a basement window. It was dark! There were no lights or the man had a dark side.

The man laid the teenager on his bed and gave him from his clothes then he removed his coat and wrapped the blanket around him. The bed was in the left corner at the further end of the apartment. When the man held the coat of the teenager, something shinning was hanging on the inside pocket. He glanced at it and immediately discovered what it was without touching it. Then he hung the coat on the wall and he went to prepare a hot drink with some hot soup. The teenager fell in a deep sleep wrapped by two blankets on the bed. That was absolutely a dream. He would sleep a long and deep sleep to make up for the nights he stayed awake. He was feeling like someone rocking him or as if he was sleeping in a cradle. The pillow that was holding his head seemed to rock his head left and right, lulling him to sleep as a baby. He wasn’t awake but he was conscious. He felt how delicious was to sleep as a human being on a bed after days of tiredness. The man offered the teenager a hot drink and soup. The teenager woke up for few minutes but he was sleepy. He ate the soup very quickly and gulped the hot drink, and then he got back to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The man stared at his hanging coat and then stared at him.

In the morning, the man woke up and left the apartment. He returned at dusk, and the teenager was still sleeping. He made hot soup and then walked to the teenager who was snoring. His hand on the teenager’s shoulder, shaking him, woke him from a deep sleep and then he handed him the bowl of soup. Here, the teenager took the bowl silently and began eating. Instantly, he started thinking what he was doing here. He glanced at the man anxiously.

Certainly, he was a little bit shy and afraid at the same time. However, his hunger overcame his shyness, and so he had finished his bowl before the man did. Quietly, he waited for the man until he left the place opposite him and he lay under the blanket. He wasn’t sleepy but it was a chance for him which he wouldn’t get again. Later after the midnight, he was coughing with sore throat and fever that didn’t go away all night. His sleeping changed from feeling comfortable into seeing nightmares; rather a fitful sleep. For a while the man couldn’t sleep, especially when the teenager was hallucinating and drifting in and out of sleep. The man woke up and brought a wet cloth, he put it on the teenager’s forehead and he got back to sleep. Two days had passed and the teenager was getting worse; the man helped with what he could do. Later, the teenager had inflammation in his throat which was triggered by the flu and was noticed lately. The man had a sense of responsibility towards the teenager for no reason and went to the nearest pharmacy. He explained what had happened to the teenager and then he took the consultation from the pharmacist. Also, he had to pay for the medicines out of his own pocket. He used his card to pay but it wasn’t enough. Thus, he took out most of the money in his wallet and paid. He was calm at the moment but his looks were worried about the coming days; when the wallet becomes empty. Unfortunately, the medicines weren’t with fast effect and the teenager would stay for longer time at the man’s house. After two weeks, the teenager recovered to be conscious as normal. He had his lunch with the man. Certainly, the man was speaking to him happily and kindly in which he seemed good. Nonetheless, the teenager didn’t want to speak and show that he had fully recovered. Because…then he must wear his coat, say goodbye and leave