Children of Gebelaawi (64 page)

strongman.

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A raJa

Smiling, Arafa studied the wrinkled face. The man said:

- Let's have one, and don 't be surprised! There's life in me

still; my goodness!

They exchanged conspiratorial smiles. The old man took

courage.

- You're a Qaasimite, aren'tyou? That's how people i n our

sector see you .

Arafa asked sarcastically:

- Do your people know my father?

-A Qaasimite is known by his looks; and you're a Qaasimite.

It was us that raised the Alley up to its high point in justice and

happiness. But what an unlucky place! (Then, remembering

the point: ) Please may I have my present?

The old man left holding the li ttle jar up to his bleary eye

and walking with new hope and vigor.

The latest visitor was someone unexpected. Arafa was sitting

in the consulting room on a cushion in front of an incense

burner, which was giving off a delicious smoke, when in came

Hanash wi th an old Nubian.

- Mr Yoonus, his Honor the Trustee's gatekeeper.

Arafa jumped up and stretched out his arms in greeti ng.

- Hello! Welcome! This is a great honor. Please sit down,

sir !

They sat down side by side. The gatekeeper said withou t any

preliminaries:

- Her Ladyship, Lady Nazeera, the Trustee's wife, has been

having such dreadful nightmares that she can hardly sleep.

Arafa's eyes lit up with interest and his heart beat more

strongly wi th hope and ambi tion, but he si mply said:

-Just a phase! It will pass.

- But her Ladyship is very upset and sent me to you for

something sui table.

Arafa felt important in a way he had never known in his life

tramping around wi th his mother.

- I'd better speak to her myself.

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- Impossible ! She won 't come to you, and you can't visit

her.

Arafa overcame his disappoin tment and fought hard not to

lose this golden chance.

- I must have her handkerchief or some personal possession of hers.

The gatekeeper bowed his turbaned head and stood up to

go. When they got to the door he hesitated for a moment, then

leaned over and whispered in Arafa's ear:

- We've heard about your present to Fisticuff, the Rifaaite

strongman.

When the gatekeeper had gone off with the present, Arafa

and Hanash had a good laugh. Hanash asked:

- Who do you think he's taken the presen t for: himself or

the Trustee or her Ladyship?

Arafa exclaimed scornfully:

- What an alley for presents and cudgels!

He went over to the window to look at the Alley by night. The

wall opposite was silver in the moonlight, and crickets were

chirping. From the cafe came the voice of the Rifaaite bard:

Adham said:

- When will you realize that we're no longer joined by any

tie?

l drees said:

- Merciful heavens! Aren ' t you my brother? That's a tie

that cannot be broken.

- ldrees! You 've tormented me enough.

- Griefis ugly, but we're both afflicted. You 've lost Humaam

and Qadri, and I 've lost Hind. The great Gebelaawi's got a

fornicating granddaughter and a killer grandson.

Adham roared:

- If your punishment is not as bad as your deeds, the world

is done for.

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A raja

Arafa turned away from the window in disgust. 'When wil l

the Alley stop telling its stories? When wil l the world b e done

for? My mother once repeated this p hrase: "If your punishment is not as bad as your deeds, the world is done for. " My poor mother, living in the desert! But what have you gained

from these stories, old alley?'

9 5 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Arafa and 1-Ianash were working with determination i n the

back room of the basement by the light of a gas lamp fixed to

the wall. The room was not habitable because it was so damp

and dark and was siluated at the back, so Arafa had made it his

workshop. The floor and every corner were clu ttered with

paper talismans, earths and limes, plants and spices, dried

animals and i nsects - mice, frogs and scorpions - pieces of

glass, bottles, tinctures in cans, strange liquids with pungent

smells, charcoal, a stove .. . Round the walls, shelves were fixed,

crowded wilh all kinds of vessels and contai ners and bags.

Arafa was busy working several substances i nto a paste in a

big earthenware vessel. Sweat was dripping from his face and

he wiped it on the sleeve of his jellaba from time to ti me.

Hanash was stretched out nearby watching with interest, ready

to follow any instructions Arafa might give. Seeming to want to

console him or display friendship, 1-Ianash said:

- The hardest worker in this wretched Alley doesn ' t take

anylhing like this trouble, and what's the reward? A millieme

or at best a piaster!

Arafa spoke with satisfaction:

- God bless my mother! Only I know how good she was.

The day she handed me over to that wonderful magician who

can read all your thoughts, my life changed completely. But for

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her I'd have been at best a pickpocket or a beggar.

Hanash persisted i n his grumbling:

- A millieme!

- With patience money mounts up. Don ' t give u p hope!

Being a strongman isn't the only way to get rich. Don' t forget

how highly I ' m regarded. The people who come to me rely on

me completely and put their happiness i n my hands; that's no

small matter. And don ' t forget the pleasure of magic itself: the

pleasure of drawing something useful out of impure substances; the pleasure ofhealing people when your i nstructions are obeyed. And then there are the unknown powers you long

to master if only you could.

Hanash looked at the stove. Cutting abruptly across his

companion's train of thought, he said:

- I'd better light the stove in the light-shaft, or we'll

suffocate.

- Light it in hell, but don't interrupt my thoughts ! None of

the idiots i n this Alley who thin k themselves so grand can

understand the importance of the things that are made in this

dark, dirty room with its strange smells. They understand the

usefulness of 'the present', but the present isn't everything.

Uni maginable wonders can come out of this room. Those

crazy people don 't realize the true value of Arafa. Per haps they

wi ll some day, and then they'll have to ask God's mercy for my

mother and i10t i nsult her as they do now.

Hanash half stood up, then squatted down again, saying

resentfully:

- Some stupid strongman may sweep all these good things

away wi th his cudgel.

- We don't harm anybody, and we pay our protection

money; how can we come to harm, you alarm bell!

Hanash laughed.

- What did Rifaa do wrong?

Arafa glared at him.

- Why annoy me with such thoughts?

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A raJa

- You 're hoping to get rich, but here n obody gets rich

except strongmen . You hope to become powerful, but here

nobody's allowed power except them. Work that one out!

Arafa said nothing till he was sure he had mixed the

substances properly. Then he glanced at Hanash and saw that

he still looked anxious. He laughed.

- My mother warned me before you. Thank you, Hanash

Alarm Bell! But I 've come back to the Alley with a plan in my

head.

- It seems nothing interests you any more except magic.

Arafa was qui te carried away.

- Magic is truly wonderfu l. There's no limit to its power.

Nobody knows where it'll end. For somebody who possesses it,

even cudgels are children's toys. Learn that Hanash, you old

snake, and don 't be a fool; imagine if all the people in the Alley

were magicians.

- If they were, they'd all starve to death !

Arafa laughed loudly, revealing his fi ne teeth.

- Don 't be a fool, Hanash. Ask yourselfwhat they'd be able

to do. My God ! The miracles would flow as plentifully as curses

and i nsults do now.

- Yes, provided they didn't starve to death first.

- Yes, and they wouldn 't die as long as they didn 't. . .

Bu t he did n o t finish his sen tence. He was thinki ng s o hard

that his hands stopped their work. Then he said:

- The Qaasimite bard says Qaasim wanted to use the Trust

so that everybody wou ld get what they needed without work

and would be free to enjoy the blissful ease that Adham

dreamed of.

- That's what Qaasi m said.

Arafa's eyes sparkled.

- But ease isn 't the fi nal goal. Imagi ne it if life was spen t in

leisure ! It's a beautiful dream, bu t a laughable one, Hanash.

What would be really beau tiful wou ld be to do away with work

in order to work miracles.

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Hanash shook his great head, which seemed to rest directly

on his body, showing his disagreement with meaningless talk.

Then he spoke again in a serious, business-like tone:

- Now let me light the stove under the light shaft.

- Do that, and throw yourself in the flames! You only

deserve to be burnt.

Arafa left the workshop after an hour, went to the sofa and

sat staring up through the window. Mter the silence he was

deafened by the hubbub of life - the peddlers' cries, the

women's gossip, the shouted jokes and the choice insults that

accompanied the ceaseless coming and going. He noticed that

something new had appeared against the wall facing his

window - a makeshift cafe. It was just an old sheet thrown over

a frame, i n which were ranged boxes of coffee beans, tea leaves

and cinnamon, a stove, coffee. pots, cups, mugs and spoons. An

old man sat on the ground fan ning the stove to boil water,

while behind the frame stood a young girl calling i n a warm

voice: 'Lovely coffee, my masters! '

The cafe was at the point where the Qaasimite and Rifaaite

sectors met. Most of its customers seemed to be street traders

and poor people. Arafa took a long look at the girl from

behi nd the bars. That brown face framed by a black head-scarf

was so pretty! That coffee-colored jellaba, coveri ng her from

neck to ankle, its hem brushing the ground when she went to

take an order or brought back an empty cup, was so modest

and tasteful! And that slim figure and those honey-colored

eyes were so lovely! Except that the left eyelid was red from

some infection or speck of dirt. From their faces she and the

old man were clearly father and daughter. He must have

fathered her at an advanced age, as often happens in the Alley.

Arafa called out without delay:

- Young l2dy! A cup of tea, please!

She looked across at him, then quickly filled a cup from a

pot half buried in the ashes. She brought it over to him and he

smi led as he took it and said:

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A raja

- Bless you ! How much?

- Two milliemes.

- That's a lot. But no price would be too high for you.

- In the big cafe it costs five, and it's no different from what

you have in your hand.

She went off without waiting for him to speak. He sipped his

tea before it could get cold, not taking his eyes off her. How

happy he would be to have a young girl like that! She was

perfect, except for the one i nflamed eye, which he could easily

cure. But he wou ld need more money than he had as yet. The

basement was ready; all that was needed was for Hanash to

sleep in the hall, or in the consulting room if he wanted,

provided he got rid of the bedbugs one by one.

He heard a strange murmuring and saw that people were

looki ng towards the top of the Alley. Some were sayi ng:

'Harpstrings .. . 1-larpstrings ! ' He leaned forward as far as the

bars of the window would let him, and saw the strongman

approaching, surrounded by a gang of his men. As he passed

the makeshift cafe, he noticed the girl and asked one of his

men:

- Who's the girl?

- Awaatif, daughter of Shakroon.

1-Iarpstringc; raised his eyebrows in in terest and wen t on to

his own sector. Arafa felt angry and upset. He waved the empty

cup and the girl came over daintily and collected it, taking the

two milliemes. l-Ie asked, jerking his head in the direction

Harpstrings had gone:

- Aren ' t you worried?

Turn ing to leave, she said with a laugh:

- I'll ask for your help when I need it; bu t will you help?

l-Ie was hurt by her scorn, a scorn that saddened rather than

provoked. Then he heard 1-Ianash calling him and he jumped

down and hurried i nside.

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9 6 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Arafa's clients grew i n numbers as the days passed, but none

of them pleased him as much as Awaatif, the day he saw her