Sarai

by Lilya Myers

  Kafele came out of the gym and rounded the building. There were several closed spaces side-by-side, each one the size of a single car garage. He found the number twenty-seven above the door, nervously unlocked the padlock, rolled up the door, and backed Nahab’s car out of the space. He was apprehensive and exhilarated all at the same time. Not long ago, I was trying to steal a mango and now I’m driving a Mercedes!

  Traffic in Cairo was always bad at night so Kafele made sure he had plenty of time to get to the airport. When he arrived, he parked exactly where Nahab had told him to wait. As it turned out, the flight was early. Nahab spotted the waiting car and trotted over to it. He pulled open the back door to throw his small carry-on bag in the back seat, startling Kafele who had been lost in thought about what happened that afternoon at the compound. Nahab hopped in the passenger seat before Kafele had a chance to get out.

  “Wouldn’t you like to drive your car now?” Kafele asked sheepishly. The truth was, he’d be happy serving as Nahab’s chauffeur just so he could drive the car.

  “No, go ahead. I want to see how you handle my car in case there has to be a next time,” Nahab said with one of his rare chuckles. He’d rather Kafele drive so he could monitor the young man’s expressions as they talked.

  Kafele stole a quick glance at Nahab to make sure that the look on his face lined up with the lighthearted chuckle. His passenger seemed to be in a good mood.

  “So, you had a successful trip?” Kafele ventured.

  “Better than I could have imagined. Many good products. I placed a large order that will ship in about six weeks. We should have it by the time tourists start coming for the spring. I had you in mind when I did my buying.”

  “Me? What do you mean?”

  “You have proven yourself to be reliable and a good salesman. Before I left, I was able to find another shop next to the ticket office for the Nile sightseeing and dinner cruises. It’s a very good location that attracts many tourists. It’s quite close to where you live. I decided to put you in charge of that shop. I know you will do well.”

  Kafele was speechless. To anyone else, Nahab did not fit the model of a kind and generous man. Yet, from the day they first met, he was benevolent.

  “You have done so much for me already that I could never repay. I can’t accept such a

  gift–”

  “You can and you will. Tomorrow. I’ll take you there after I pick up the paperwork.” Nahab smiled but his commanding tone did little to put Kafele at ease.

  “Now, tell me what news while I’ve been gone.”

  Kafele wasn’t quite sure what he expected. There really wasn’t much news. He told Nahab about the weight set he’d purchased. He heard some gossip about a few of the boys he had befriended before he met Nahab. For the next fifteen minutes, Nahab patiently listened to a litany of nonsense. He could be patient when needed.

  “My brothers will be here tomorrow, late in the day. They’ll be in for quite a surprise when they arrive,” Kafele said with a sardonic laugh as he related the scene on the patio that afternoon to Nahab. He really didn’t understand the magnitude of what had happened and the extent to which it would change his life.

  CHAPTER 26

  HASHIM WAS PACKING to leave for Australia when the call came. It was mid-spring in Australia. Perpetual summer made it seem like he couldn’t break from the throes of death and turmoil. The time since he last saw Sarai was difficult, causing Hashim to push himself harder than he ever had. If it weren’t for the windfall account he had landed soon after he sent Sarai to America with Dan, day-to-day life would have been unbearable. There had been problems with the deal in Spain and that never materialized.

  The Australian account for new jets was the largest he’d ever had and their orders would keep him busy for at least three years or more. Busier than ten of his largest accounts put together. The most arduous part was the one-way, eighteen-hour flights. He had just spent the past two months preparing presentations and flying back and forth to meet with executives headquartered in Sydney. The schedule had been grueling, which was effectively a good thing for him. He had little or no time to harvest regrets.

  He’d be spending most of his time in Australia and make occasional return trips to Egypt to see that business was running smoothly. This account was one Hashim would be handling personally on-site. There were plenty of repeat customers he had delegated to a few of his most trusted and long-term employees. He’d also hired several more very competent representatives to take care of the individual and smaller accounts that flowed in steadily.

  Hashim didn’t recognize the caller’s voice and the man did not identify himself. The mysterious voice spoke in French but he was sure that the person on the other end was Arabic. He gave Aswad’s name, twenty years, and the name of the prison. The caller hung up before Hashim was able to process what he’d just been told. He let the receiver slide slowly out of his hand and into its cradle as he stood there in stunned silence.

  He sat down on the bed next to his suitcase and stared at nothing in particular for a few minutes. He wondered if this was a sick joke or if it was really true. He’d verify it only because that was his nature. But who was the mysterious caller that knew where to find him?

  Aswad’s imprisonment was an outcome that he had prayed for over and over. As evil and repugnant as Aswad was, there was a facet of Hashim’s makeup that did not wish him dead. Incarceration was far more suitable for his wickedness, especially in an Egyptian prison.

  He would make one quick call to confirm the information, mainly because he wanted to hear it again. It didn’t change a thing for his position regarding Sarai’s well-being. From what he believed to be true, Aswad’s vendettas were hard-wired into his sons’ DNA. In fact, their father’s imprisonment might only heighten their resolve to seek revenge on his behalf.

  Hashim was also tempted to call Dan. He picked up the receiver and reluctantly returned it to its cradle. He re-ran all kinds of excuses in his head for why it would necessitate alerting his daughter’s father, Dan. He knew better than to entertain that kind of exercise with his conscience but it wasn’t until he exhausted every plausible reason for making the call that he examined his errant foolishness and admonished himself.

  The decision he made, which seemed a lifetime ago, was to see that Sarai lived to see another birthday, and another, until God decided it was time to take her home. In the meantime, not even he had the right to upset any part of her new life.

  Hashim finished packing. He was traveling light this time. He had a few things, personal and business, which had been shipped ahead of his arrival to the address in Sydney which was to be his semi-permanent home while he conducted the start-up..

  On his previous trip, he was given a tour of the house that was rented for him and handed the keys. Despite its location in one of the most exclusive resorts, the house was very private. The property was a pristine waterfront residence, very posh and absolutely stunning. Hashim had only one thought that he kept to himself. Too bad I don’t have anyone to share it with.

  He walked over to a table where he kept mementos of his two loves, Hasne and Sarai. He picked up a photo of Sarai. After carefully slipping it between his clothes, he zipped his suitcase closed and set it by the door. He made one more cursory round through his flat and stopped in the doorway of Sarai’s room.

  He had given the decision a lot of forethought before asking a close cousin to take care of something after he left. She would come and neatly pack up all of Sarai’s things for storage, except the furniture. He told her that she could have Sarai’s bedroom set for her new granddaughter. Hashim realized that keeping Sarai’s room as a shrine was too painful a reminder and the purging would be better while he was away. Sarai lived inside his heart and every beat was a reminder of his beautiful little girl.

  ***

  Aswad had been sitting in that stinking, filthy jail cell for not even a day but it felt as though he had been there a year. It was a basement cell below th
e police station in central Cairo. There was a small entrance area but the main cell was approximately five by nine meters or roughly the size of an American single car garage. Thirty other prisoners struggled for space, leaving them to sleep with their knees in the air.

  The guards were sympathetic to no one. In their eyes, Aswad was as deserving of his fate as the rest of the men there. And many of the men who shared that cell were meaner than and just as sadistic as Aswad. Some had been there longer than Aswad. Long enough to turn their anger into rage against the other detainees in their cell.

  The next morning, Aswad was taken to court. Omar and Saib were not due in until later that day. Aswad knew that visitors and prisoner’s rights were generally better before sentencing than after. Prisoners were not given a shower or clean clothes prior to being presented before a judge. Aswad’s case was a little different from that of the average prisoner.

  The legal system followed several prescripts based on a combination of English, Napoleonic, and Islamic codes of law. Because of the nature of Aswad’s case, there was some uncertainty as to whether or not his offense was considered terrorism. They had no proof that he was trying to overthrow the regime. But the information they had received could well be interpreted as such.

  His purchase of an army’s arsenal worth of military grade weapons had been discovered, which led to his arrest. Now, it was up to the court of appeals judges to decide if this was considered a State of Emergency offense.

  Ever since the assassination of President Sadat, State of Emergency had been put in place. It meant that Aswad could be detained without due process. He’d then be tried in an Emergency Security Court where, upon conviction, there would be only one recourse. He could make an appeal for clemency to the president or prime minister. But since it was suspected that his target was the president, clemency would be out of the question. He’d be lucky not to be put to death.

  One of the judges had served in the military with Aswad and recognized him immediately. Aswad recognized him as well. Fortunately, he was one of the few men whom Aswad had not made an enemy. It was the only thing he had in his favor. For once, he realized that it would be wise to keep his mouth shut. The court ruled that Aswad would be sentenced to serve twenty years. It was the best he could have hoped for initially. There were avenues to pursue but they couldn’t be explored that day in that court.

  He had to think this through to come up with a viable plan that would get him out of the hellhole he was in. He’d grown accustomed to a life of extravagance. This barely resembled the realm of existence. It reminded him of his beginnings in the military. He never forgot serving under conditions that made this miserable situation pale in comparison. He put on his metaphoric external layer of armor to carry him through until he could get out of there. Several days. A week, at best.

  Tora Mazraa, a large prison in the southern suburbs of Cairo, was where the court had decided Aswad’s home would be for the next twenty long years and they transferred him immediately. There were plenty of rules that applied to the proper treatment of prisoners, some adopted after a UN conference on that topic and others that were already in the national law. The problem was that not one of the rules were being applied because no one bothered to read them. Hygiene, lack of food, water, and medical care were major problems. Quite often, one or all led to the demise of many a convicted man.

  Aswad was lucky enough to be assigned upstairs in a huge first class cell alongside former judges, generals, and businessmen. The cell could hardly be considered luxury but compared to the rest, it was. Comprised of nearly forty concrete bunk beds, there was only a single narrow walkway down the middle that was closed five times a day for prayer only. No space had been set aside for any activities except prayer. Prisoners ate their food between the beds or in the washroom area.

  Aswad sat on his bunk and watched the others while they prayed. He had already exhausted a long list of enemies that wanted him dead or in jail. At the top of the list was Hashim. But it was impossible for him to have known about the weapons. That didn’t matter right now. His only concern was to think of a way to be released. Omar and Saib should have arrived in Cairo by now. Surely Kafele had heard and told his brothers what happened.

  Try as he might, Aswad was no longer in a position to order anyone to do anything. The same thought monopolized his mind as the hours slowly passed. He would have to make a decision and he would have to make it soon. He had a cache of money that was readily accessible, in case of an emergency. This was not the kind of emergency he thought he’d ever have.

  The accessible cash was an exorbitant sum by any standard but not quite enough to buy a judge in his case. The money he’d hidden in Alexandria could be his ticket out of prison. Still there were serious issues with it being a viable endeavor.

  He’d never trusted Saib when it came to money. Omar would be the one he’d have to ask. If he told Omar about the money in Alexandria, there could be only one of three outcomes. There were no guarantees that Omar wouldn’t keep the money for himself. Or, even if Omar did dutifully and secretively present the bribe, a greedy judge might very well keep the money and do nothing for Aswad. The only hope would be for a judge to accept the bribe and, covertly, release Aswad. Wrestling with the idea made him weary.

  The prospect of serving until a deal could be struck– if a deal could be struck, was an impossible reality to grasp. If the whole ordeal didn’t age him twenty five years, there would be one thing of which he could be sure. He’d be penniless. The odds were not in his favor.

  CHAPTER 27

  FOR ONCE, KAFELE hung around the compound waiting for the arrival of his brothers. Rumor had traveled quickly to him that this was an arrest Aswad could neither buy nor talk his way out of. He ignored the gossip because he’d heard it before. A couple of days and Aswad would return meaner than ever. Kafele was anxious to tell his brothers because he knew that they secretly hated their father. Too bad he didn’t know just how deep the hatred ran or he would have gotten double the satisfaction telling them as he got when he told Nahab.

  For the past couple of years, Kafele had secluded himself or stayed away when he knew Omar and Saib were expected in Cairo. The older brothers always saw him as the weak, sniveling boy they shunned, and for the most part, excluded him from their lives all the time they were growing up. Were they ever in for a surprise.

  A driver would be sent the airport. The brothers’ flights were scheduled to arrive less than an hour apart in late afternoon. The two would meet at the Cairo airport and ride together back to the compound. Kafele handed the driver a note to give to Omar. The note wasn’t signed, and simply read that they were to come directly to the large parlor in the west wing of the main house upon their arrival.

  Nahab had picked up Kafele around ten that morning. It was another one of those mild winter mornings in the desert. The night had cooled to a crisp temperature and because of it, brought a cooling breeze to tame the morning sun that was already heating up the landscape. They arrived in Giza, along the banks of the Nile, where ornate ships sailed tourists on short dinner cruises, or cruises that took them to ancient ruins along the river. On the west bank stood the Sphinx and the Pyramids, their enormity and mystique an overwhelming presence even to those who lived alongside them.

  The area bustled with tourists and those trying to ply a living from merchandise or services they could sell to the tourists. Shuttles and cars loaded and unloaded passengers coming and going from their hotels. Tour guides, taxi cab drivers, shopkeepers, and camel handlers all contended for the attention of prospective buyers for whatever service or product they could sell. Camel rides were always an attraction to foreigners. Once they paid the fee and were atop the beast, the handler was shrewd and deceptive enough not to let the unsuspecting traveler down until he or she relinquished their watch or something else of value.

  Brightly covered canopies shaded the shopkeepers and their wares. Dazzling hues in the handmade rugs, and gilded threads that adorned ladie
s’ clothing hanging from crudely made displays all added to a brilliant collage against the desert sand.

  Nahab pointed as he walked directly to the space he had purchased. Kafele was looking around in awe. There was a panoramic view of the Pyramids and the Sphinx just slightly to the left and an unobstructed view of the tall white sails of boats on the Nile. The breeze by the river further set it apart from the stifling confines within the city where the other shop was located.

  Nahab yanked a key from his pocket and inserted it into the padlock he’d already replaced. With one sweeping pull, the double sized door rolled up. The interior expanded into large adjoining spaces that were accessible only through the one door. Kafele’s eyes widened when he saw how big the shop was.

  Nahab began, “I’ve already arranged for shelving and cases to be built. There will also be an iron gate to pull across the door with stronger locks. Until the products arrive, your job will be to oversee the men I hired to do the work.”

  Kafele was still stunned by everything that was happening. “I…I can’t believe you want me to run this shop. It’s beautiful here and I would think you’d favor it for yourself.”

  “I’ll have someone in charge of running every one of my shops. I’ve chosen you for this location because I believe you have earned it. All the shops are doing well and my time will be better spent traveling to buy new goods to sell. This will be the first and only one of my stores to sell jewelry.”

  After locking the door, Nahab took Kafele on a stroll along the length of the market area where the bulk of their competitors did business. He pointed out different items being sold and gave Kafele invaluable lessons on the art of selling as they walked. The conversation turned to the subject of Aswad.