A Hand in the Grave by Ghassan Kanafani

I WOKE UP VERY EARLY THAT DAY. I COULD HEAR MY father repeating "God be praised" as he prepared to perform his prayers. Later he came past me:

"Your eyes look tired. What's happened? Didn't you sleep well last night?"

I nodded, turning the soap over in my hand, and began to look at my face in the mirror with its silver back peeling away at the edges, without replying to my father's questions. I did not turn my head, but I realized that he had hung the towel round his neck and put on his sandals. He began to yawn, stretching his arms as far as they would go. As I soaped my face I heard my sister ask my father:

"What's happened?"

"Nothing. Your brother's face looks as though it's been bleached; he definitely didn't sleep last night. Do you know when he came home yesterday?"

"Yes. He wasn't late."

"You're lying. You always tell lies, when it's something to do with Nabil."

I began to rinse my face with water, and though the conversation seemed to threaten a nasty storm, I felt that I was outside it all. I heard my sister say:

"I told you that he came home early last night. You just don't want to believe it. Will you drink your coffee?"

"I don't want any coffee. I don't want to be poisoned. Can he tell me why his face is so pale if he went to bed early?"

I dried my face and turned towards him. I knew he was looking for a reason to explode. That is how he appeared every morning, doing nothing the whole time before breakfast except search for a pretext to unburden himself of his rage; today I represented his first attempt. He looked hard at me and then repeated his question, his lips quivering:

"If you went to bed early, young man, why is your face so pale?"

I circled round him, and when my shoulder was level with his I observed quietly:

"Facial pallor has a number of causes. It may be due to worms in the stomach, or a heavy meal the night before, or excessive smoking. And there are more serious causes, anemia for instance, TB, or the onset of hemiplegia."

What I expected did not occur, for my father did not get in the least upset. Instead he gave me a sidelong admiring glance. Perhaps he was remembering that he had supported me for more than ten years so that I could enter the medical faculty, and here I was giving him scientific answers in all seriousness, which brought joy to his heart. But he did not want to give way so easily.

"You woke up early this morning. Did you give the call to the dawn prayer then?"

I had reached my room, and flung the towel over the bed. Without turning to face my father and sister, who were standing in the doorway, I answered in a calm tone:

"I woke up early to rob a grave."

"To rob what?"

"A grave. " I turned and faced him, trembling. "To rob a grave. Yes. Is that strange? In the faculty we need a skeleton, and Suhail and I have been told to provide it."