“Who is Hagg Luqman?” I asked, without any real interest.
“There isn’t a single person in Alexandria who doesn’t know who Hagg Luqman is,” Magid said. “Even I have had the honor of meeting him. One day a black Mercedes stopped in front of the pharmacy, and the driver came in to buy five boxes of Givrin. I saw Hagg Luqman in the back seat and he waved at me. I recognized him from the pictures that were hanging everywhere, and I waved back. Then I saw him get out of the car, and thought that he was going to come into the pharmacy to talk to me about the upcoming elections, but he only walked into the side alley, then walked out, buttoning his pants, and got back into his car.”
We all laughed. Hassanayn was surprised at the large amount of Givrin which Hagg Luqman had bought. I wondered if he were really ill, but Magid said that Givrin was a general dietary supplement and also effective as an aphrodisiac.
“You only saw him once,” Hassanayn said to Magid, “but I have seen him many times. At the Lansh Café in Mafruza he used to sell goods stolen from the customs warehouse, such as sweaters, jeans, and transistor radios. Then he disappeared about three ago, and when he returned he had acquired the title Hagg and was known to be one of the biggest importers of girders in Egypt. He’s worth seeing, especially since I’ve heard that he gives public speeches even though he’s illiterate. Come on! We have nothing to lose. If we don’t like it, we can still go to Bahari.”
#
We got into Magid’s car and for the whole trip I was thinking about what a crazy mood we were in. This whole trip was a joke and we took it no more seriously than a game of backgammon. When we got to Qabbari, I almost asked Magid to drive on to Bahari, but I saw the white and yellow lights on Sidi al-Qabbari Street making the night as bright as the middle of the day. There was a huge crowd of people and a tent which took up half the street, and I became really curious to see this Hagg Luqman who could attract so many people.
Magid had a hard time finding a place to park on one of the nearby side streets. We had to push our way through the huge crowd to get to the entrance of the tent. It was only by chance that I was ahead of Magid and Hassanayn when we walked in.
“The men of Dikhayla have arrived,” a man shouted, raising both his arms high in the air to point at us and at the stage where Hagg Luqman was seated in the midst of a large number of men in dark suits and galabiyyas. Hagg Luqman was wearing a dark glittery suit. His dark face glittered as well and looked as if it had been rubbed with oil. “The men of Dikhayla have arrived,” the man yelled out again, and I recognized him as al-Dakruri, the head of the workers’ union at the shipyard. I was surprised to see him here, and wondered what he was doing and what his relationship to Hagg Luqman was.
The men on the stage craned their necks to look at us, and Hagg Luqman greeted us with a slight nod of his big head, while al-Dakruri made room for us to be seated in the front row. We put on a grave look, appropriate for the “men of Dikhayla,” as he had called us. I heard Magid say that we would never be able to walk out of this trap. Shortly after we sat down, al-Dakruri approached us and grabbed me by the arm. He wanted me to follow him, so I did, and it struck me that I looked like a blind man being led by the arm. We stopped behind the stage and he said, “Wait here and don’t move.”
I stood there on ground which had been covered with sand, paying no attention to what he was up to. I was trying to read some of the calligraphy printed on the sides of the tent when he returned, carrying a small bulging envelope.
“The Hagg offers this envelope to you, and you will be responsible for the votes of the people of Dikhayla,” al-Dakruri said. “I know you can do it.”
Have I become a machine whose hand automatically stretches out to snatch up money? Hadn’t I proved my honesty on the day of Begin’s visit? I almost laughed, thinking that maybe al-Dakruri knew me better than I knew myself.
“Five hundred pounds,” he said.
“Don’t worry. He will win and all the competing candidates will fail,” I said, after a few moments of silence. I was wondering whether I should share the money with Magid and Hassanayn or whether I should even tell them about it, but I boldly said, “This is a small sum for a neighborhood such as Dikhayla.”
Al-Dakruri’s eyes gleamed like those of a fox.
“Then we can just give it back,” he said. I was flustered, even though I was capable of sending him flying in the air with a single blow.
“Give my congratulations to the Hagg. The votes of Dikhayla will all be for him,” I said. Then I took the money out of the envelope and stuffed it in my pocket. I was walking away from him when he stopped me and whispered in my ear: “The Hagg will give me an apartment.”
#
I found myself walking toward the street which I had been avoiding for some time. I saw that the house of jasmine was completely dark. No sweet scent met my nose anymore. The flowers were wilted, and the leaves on the trees were dry and dusty and many of them had fallen to the street, where they crackled under my feet. I saw a huge lock on the gate. Under the light of the sole street lamp, which was in front of ‘Abd al-Salam’s house, I looked at the pipes on the walls of the house of jasmine, where the paint was peeling and moisture had left several large stains, and I saw a ferret climbing upward.
9
A man and a woman got married, and the next morning several members of the bride’s family went to visit them. When no one opened the door, they broke it down and found the man on top of his bride, unable to pull his animal out of her. They were both in tears, having tried in vain all night to separate themselves. The relatives wrapped the couple in a sheet and took them to a hospital, where they were separated and returned to their apartment by midnight.
Two days later, the same thing happened again, and the man cried for help from the neighbors, who carried them to the hospital, wrapped in the sheet. They returned, separated, shortly after midnight.
People started whispering, pointing up at the high apartment and laughing every time they passed the building. Then a month passed and nothing more happened. No one knew that the couple had lost their ability to have intercourse.
But finally they went back to it, and then tore the flesh off of their own faces with their fingernails out of fear and repentance for what they had done. The man had to cry for the neighbors’ help once again, and they took the couple to the hospital to be separated, and the couple returned home at dawn. In the morning the man stood alone on the fifth-floor balcony, screaming and slapping his face. He was looking at the street below as if he were going to jump off the balcony. His bride came out and threw herself to the street. He watched her body hit the pavement and make one movement, like a final throb.
I opened the door to the balcony and walked out. I was wrapped in the bright daylight that extended infinitely in front of me and felt as if I were flying in space. I looked down and saw the sea as an azure velvet carpet, and I could almost feel its softness as I stood barefoot on the balcony’s tiled floor. I looked up and saw the dome of the sky, so close. Its pure blue tempted me to jump up and touch it with my hands. This was a day unlike any other that I could remember. Perhaps God had returned to live with us as He had when we were children.
I took my fishing rod, my basket, line and hooks, and went to the beach. I hadn’t planned on going fishing, and hadn’t bought any bait, but I figured that I would find someone to sell me some on the beach. This was a day on which nothing could go wrong.
As soon as I closed my door and turned to walk down the stairs, I saw a pretty child going up. He was having trouble climbing the stairs and had placed his hands on his knees and was pressing on them with every step he climbed. He was wearing a white galabiyya and his surprise at seeing me showed in his bright black eyes, so I smiled at him. Before I had a chance to ask him what he wanted and why he had come into the building, I heard a woman calling him from one of the floors above.
“Hurry, Ziyad,” she said.
“All right,” he replied, and sighed, looki
ng at me with a smile as if he were asking me to witness his exhaustion and the height of the stairs. So one of the apartments must be occupied, and this beautiful child only went down this morning so that I could see him on his way back and add to my joys of the day. But when had these residents moved into their apartment? When had they moved their furniture? How had I failed to notice them? I found that I was galloping down the stairs like a horse.
In the evening, the weather changed, and when it became cold I realized that fall was coming to an end. We were nearing the rainy days, when the rain would be so heavy that you would think it was unaware of the presence of people on earth.
“You have obviously become a skillful fisherman,” said Magid when I went to the pharmacy to give him part of the catch. We were sitting at a small desk in a corner of the pharmacy.
“I’m thinking of buying another fishing kit,” I said, and it was true. The area behind the airport was rocky and deep and had plenty of fish on warm and hot days. I was always relieved by fishing—fighting with the fish and wishing I could catch the heart of the sea. Fishing to me was not just a hobby or an amusement, but nor did I need the fish, since I wasn’t supporting a family who might need to eat them. To me fishing was a fight, but that day I didn’t feel the same power that I had felt in the past.
“I’m sorry that I can’t come to the café these days,” Magid said. “Dr. Musa has gone to Kuwait, and there is no one to help me here.”
“I haven’t been going there myself,” I said, then added with a wide smile, “I saw some new residents this morning.”
“Really? How wonderful. You are a hero to have stayed alone in the building for so long. I only hope that they don’t throw their furniture into the sea.”
We were both laughing when a woman walked into the pharmacy. She was wearing a cheap dress and carrying a child who could not stop coughing, trembling as he did so. She was holding him tightly in her arms to keep him from falling. Magid got up and stood behind the counter. She could not raise her hand to give him the prescription, so he leaned forward and took it from her. Then he went to the shelves where he kept the medicines and brought her what she needed. I was looking at the child’s face, which I could see over his mother’s shoulder—a tiny pale face with the tongue hanging out. Then I heard her say: “Here are two pounds.” I saw Magid shake his head and smile. He reached out and patted the child on the head, then he put the medicines in a bag and leaned over the counter again to hang the bag on the woman’s fingers. She turned toward me with an embarrassed smile, then hurried out.
“Wait!” Magid called out to her. She stopped at the door, and turned towards him.
“Yes,” she said.
“Maybe you should take him to Shatbi Hospital.”
“All right,” she said, then disappeared into the street. He returned to his seat and sat in silence for a few minutes before he said, “She doesn’t have enough money for the required medication, and the doctor has prescribed her enough medicine to kill a horse.”
So he refused to take the two pounds from her, because it seemed that this was all the money she had. I thought of the five hundred pounds, about which I never said anything to him or to Hassanayn, and felt like leaving the place immediately, but I stayed and asked him, “Have you heard from Hassanayn lately? Does he come by sometimes?”
My questions set Magid giggling for a few minutes before he finally replied, “He came by a week ago for some prescriptions. I gave them to him as a gift together with a few bottles of perfume. He’s gotten married.”
“Married?”
“Yes. And I’d like to visit him, but I can’t find the time.”
“But he never said anything.”
“He himself didn’t know it was going to happen. He found himself all alone with his mother after the last of his sisters was married, so he decided to get married as well.”
“And the apartment?”
“He’s living in his mother’s apartment.”
Magid got up to help a few customers who had walked into the pharmacy, and left me thinking about all of the stupid questions which had come out of my mouth. So Hassanayn had solved the problem in the quickest way possible. Though why should I call it a problem? I noticed a copy of Al-Ahram on the desk. The headlines were about the explosions in Iran and the upcoming return of Khomeini to Tehran. Magid returned to his seat, but it was only a minute before a young man in jeans and a leather jacket came in. He smiled at us, but looked rather uncomfortable. Magid went up to him, and the man leaned toward him and whispered something in his ear.
“Sorry. I don’t sell any of those,” Magid said. The man left with his eyes fixed on the ground.
“He was asking about psychedelic drugs,” Magid said with a shrug of his shoulders. I was surprised because the man didn’t look like the kind of person who used these drugs. Magid said that it was not a matter of looks, and that maybe he was just going to try them on the recommendation of one of his friends.
I remembered what ‘Abd al-Salam had said about Magid—that he still had a baby face, which hadn’t changed since they were in high school. The years didn’t leave their mark on Magid’s face. His hair was still as black and soft as it had always been, and he always had a big smile. We sometimes thought that if Magid walked through a sand storm, he would come out of it without a speck of dust on him. He always reminded you of a child whose mother had just cleaned and groomed him before letting him out.
“Are you making progress in German?” I asked him.
“I have quit studying German,” he answered. “I met an American woman who said that she would help me travel to the United States. I ran into her in a pharmacy in ‘Agami. She said that I shouldn’t be studying German when my English is so good, that it would be better to improve on what I already know than to start all over again with something new. She also said that she would be willing to help me join an American institute or one of the pharmaceutical companies. She’s in Cairo now. She came to Egypt with her husband, who is an investor in some projects here, and they will both leave next January. She sent me a letter from Cairo to confirm what she had told me.”
He was talking seriously and with a lot of confidence, and I wondered why he wanted to travel. I was touring the glass medicine cabinets with my eyes and wondering if there were really as many diseases in the world as all these different medicines, how many sick people there were, and if anyone was actually healthy. Or were we all living with germs and microbes which were always waiting for their chance to attack?
#
The gates of heaven opened and poured down their inevitable supply of rain. Alexandria curled up like a ball, and the days became extensions of the nights. I forgot about Hassanayn and my plans to visit him. When I left my house at six o’clock every morning, it was like going out at midnight. I walked close to the walls, trying to avoid the mud on the streets and the water pouring out of the drain pipes. I supported myself with my hand against the walls, walked so close to them that my face and chest almost touched them, and yet I nearly slipped more than once. I saw the people around me doing the same thing and it struck me that we all resembled insects.
I didn’t stop going to work. What would I do in an apartment with no electricity? I only had a few candles to light up the place. There was very little work to do, and many employees were delayed by the rains. The newspapers I read in my office said that the stormy winter had caused the port to close down, and that the ships couldn’t enter it to off-load. I wished that there were a famine. I wanted to see people eat their children after consuming all the cats and dogs in the city!
The newspapers also talked about changes in the atmosphere of the earth as a result of the nuclear experiments that were carried out openly by the powerful nations and discreetly by the smaller ones. Some scientists predicted the return of the ice age and the end of modern civilization. The television showed footage of rains in Europe, of streets and houses covered in snow, of train crashes and people freezing to death.
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The employees in the shipyard said that it was the wrath of God on a nation where the men had become thieves and the women went around naked, but an employee who had just returned from Libya said that it was all because of Qaddafi, who was making the clouds rain out of season. He said that he himself had seen the airplanes fly up into the clouds and emit a chemical that dissolved the clouds over the cultivated areas of the desert. Furthermore, he added, the airplanes sometimes flew in search of clouds, which they drove in front of them like sheep to the areas that needed water, where the clouds were then dissolved into rain. He said that this process was depleting the clouds over North Africa, causing angry clouds from neighboring regions to fill the resulting vacuum. And what region is closer than Europe? He finished his story by saying that the world constantly maintains equilibrium— when a man dies in Japan, another is born in the United States.
He went from one office to another repeating his theory to the employees, and spent most of the day in the cafeteria, where the employees preferred to spend the cold days drinking hot tea. He was serious about his theory, and when the other employees laughed at him, he sought evidence and proof. He said that any high-school student knew that an area of low atmospheric pressure attracts wind, which can make the region cold or warm.
“God created the world at an equilibrium which Man alone has disturbed, and the High Dam is a prime example of that,” he added. “The dam has caused the erosion of the Egyptian coast on the Mediterranean, giving the sea the upper hand over the land. In the past, the Nile unloaded its silt into the sea, reducing the strength of the waves and the salinity of the seawater, preventing erosion. Now the sea freely beats against the coast and in less than five years, both Damietta and Rosetta will disappear from the map. The same problem will face the Nile Valley, which itself is the sedimentation of silt over millions of years. The silt came with the floods every year to counter the effects of the sand that came with the winds from the east and the west. Now the agricultural lands of the valley are being eroded, invaded by sand, and with no silt to counter its effects, it will be less than a hundred years before the Nile Valley disappears and Egypt becomes all desert again. Nature has been kind to us, but we are bastards.”
The House of Jasmine Page 9