Bilal and I had accepted the consequences long ago (though how could we truly?), which was complete destruction of the tree groves and orchards, as well as the demolition of our home, all of which happened before my trial. It was a small price compared to what happened to others.

VII. Between Freedom

VII.

BETWEEN FREEDOM

The Cube, the Unreachable Beyond

THE CUBE, THE UNREACHABLE BEYOND

THE INITIAL SHOCK of seeing the newspaper clippings dissipated quickly. Feelings erode in here. Memories wear off. All that’s left are facts without the emotion that once accompanied them. I don’t cry in this place. There isn’t room enough for the heart to move. There are no winds to rustle it. Silence here is not the absence of sound, but the presence of a dense, unshakable stillness. Like dark matter in space, silence here is a living force that slides into all corners and seams. I have come to depend on it.

I’ve been here long enough for my hair—almost entirely gray now—to grow down to my back three times, after being cut just a few centimeters from my head. I still wonder whether Bilal is alive. If Israel knew, I think I would too, because that kind of news seeps through every permeable point. What I learned over time—from smuggled notes and occasional conversations—is that Bilal’s coordinated assaults on their military killed twenty-four Israeli soldiers and wounded twelve on that stunning day. It was a staggering toll for Israel that caught them by surprise. They’d never imagined guerrilla resistance with such unconventional weaponry as crossbows and hornet spray. Some of the arrowheads were poisoned with plant oils, all of which were found in Ghassan’s home. Soldiers had raided his house many times before, not realizing the weapons he would use against them were there in the potted plants they ransacked, and which Ghassan simply replanted. It was those plants that gave plausibility to Israel’s claim that Ghassan had been the sole mastermind of the attacks. They knew it wasn’t true, but they needed to sustain a narrative of strength, because admitting that the leader of this offensive had slipped through their grip would have been a humiliating sign of their vulnerability.