Adrift On The Nile Part 12

"Have none of you committed a virtue?"

"He who goes by the name of Ahmad Nasr!"

"Perhaps you mean his fidelity to his wife."

"And to financial directives and stocktaking and regulations for the acquisition of goods!"

"And what was your opinion of yourselves?"

"Our consensus was that we are in a state of nature, immaculate; and that the morals which we lack are the dead morals of a dead age; and that we are the pioneers of a new and honest ethic as yet unsanctioned by legislation!"

"Bravo!"

Anis gave himself over to the view of the trees that bordered the road. They had been planted with extraordinary regularity. If they moved out of their fixed order, the known world would come tumbling down. There was a snake coiled around a branch; it wanted to say something. Very well, say something worth listening to. But what a cursed row. "Let me hear it!" he cried aloud.

At his bellow, they all laughed.

"What do you want to hear?" asked Mustafa.

They piled back into the car, and Anis was once more pressed against the door. The snake had completely disappeared.

"You will be driven by a thoroughly modern driver!" Ragab said. The car moved onto the road, engine roaring, and then they set off, faster and faster, until they were traveling at an insane speed.

People laughed hysterically; then their voices shook; and then they began to protest and shout for help. The trees flew by. They felt as if they were plummeting into a deep gulf, and waited in dread to hit the bottom.

"Madness--this is madness!"

"He'll kill us in cold blood!"

"Stop! We have to get our breath back!"

"No! No! Even madness has to stop somewhere!"

But Ragab put his head back in a terrifying frenzy, and drove as fast as the car would go, whooping like a Red Indian. Samara was forced to put a hand on his arm, and whisper: "Please!"

"Layla's crying," Khalid snapped. "Will you return to your senses!"

My mind is dead. All that is left in my head is the pulse of my blood. My heart is sinking as in the worst depressions of kif--close your eyes--that way you will not see death-- Suddenly a horrifying scream rang out. He opened his eyes, shaking, to see a black shape flying through the air. The car was jolted with the shock and nearly turned over, and they were thrown against the seats and doors by Ragab's violent braking. Sobs and cries of "G.o.d forbid!" broke out.

"Somebody was. .h.i.t!"

"Killed ten times over."

"We should have seen this coming!"

"G.o.d, what an appalling night!"

"Get a grip on yourselves!" Ragab shouted. He pushed himself up in his seat and turned to look out through the back window. Then he sat down again and started to drive off. Ahmad leaned toward him, a question on his lips. "We must get out of here!" Ragab said decisively.

There was a sick silence. "It's the only solution!" he continued.

n.o.body uttered a word. Then Samara whispered: "Perhaps he needs help?"

"He's already finished."

She said, this time more loudly: "You can't just . . . lay down the law like this!"

"What can we do, anyway! We are not doctors!"

"Well, what do you all think?" said Samara, turning to the others. And when not a word was said, she began: "I think--"

Ragab furiously slammed on the brakes. The car stopped in the middle of the road. Then he turned to the others. "Let no one say tomorrow that I took this decision into my own hands. I leave it up to you. What do you think we should do?" And then, when there was silence, he shouted: "Answer me! I promise you that I will do whatever you tell me!"

"We must get out of here!" said Khalid. "It's the only solution. If anyone disagrees, let them say so now."

"Get moving," Mustafa said anxiously. "Otherwise there's no hope."

Layla was still crying, which made Saniya start as well. At that point, Ragab turned to Samara. "As you see," he said, "we have a consensus."

And when she said nothing, he started off.

"We're living in the world," he said. "Not in a play."

They set off at a slow and steady pace. He drove woodenly, tense and thunderous. A funereal silence reigned. Anis closed his eyes, only to see the black shape flying through the air. Was he still perhaps in pain? Or did he not know why, and how, he had been killed? Or why he existed? Or was he finished forever? Did life just pa.s.s away, as if it had never been?

They drove without stopping until they reached the houseboat. They got out of the car without speaking. Ragab stayed behind to look at the hood of the car. Amm Abduh rose to greet them, but no one paid him any attention. Their faces looked pallid and devastated in the light of the blue lamp. It was not long before Ragab joined them, his features set hard in a way that they had not seen before.

When the silence became intolerable, Ali said: "It could perhaps have been an animal . . ."

"That scream was human," replied Ahmad.

"Do you think the investigation will lead to us?"

"We'll only lose sleep over that idea."

"And it was accidental," muttered Ragab.

"But to run away is a crime," said Samara.

"We had no option!" he said harshly. "And the decision was unanimous!" And he began to pace back and forth between the balcony and the door. Then he said: "I am desolate . . . but it is best that we forget the whole thing."

"If only we could!"

"We must forget; any other action would ruin the reputation of three ladies, and confound the rest of us--and send me straight to court."

Amm Abduh came. They looked at him in irritation, but he did not notice anything unusual. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

Ragab signaled him to go. He left the room, saying that he was going to the mosque.

After he had gone, Ragab asked: "Do you think the old man understood anything?"

"He understands nothing," Anis replied.

"We should all leave now," said Ragab nervously.

Khalid agreed. "Dawn is about to break."

Khalid, Layla, Ali, Saniya, Mustafa, and Ahmad left.

Ragab turned to Samara. "I am sorry to have caused you such distress," he said, "but come with me now, so that I can take you home."

She shook her head in revulsion. "Not in that car."

"You don't believe in ghosts, surely!"

"No--but it was me it ran over. . . ."

"Don't let your imagination run away with you!"

"It's true. I'm . . . shattered."

"All the same, I won't leave you. We can walk together until you find a taxi." And he stood in front of her, waiting for her to rise to her feet.

16.

The voice of Amm Abduh, making the dawn call to prayer, came to him; and he thought: I am alone. I should call someone to be with me, or go to be with someone.

He gestured with his arm at the night, and thought: The mystery has evaporated from my head and I am sober. He laughed at the extraordinary idea. But he was sober; and here was the coming dawn without a single voice talking, and there was no trace of the whale. Where was the rest of that fine stuff they had put in the pipe--run over by a car? The Caliph al-Hakim had murdered so many. When he came to believe that he was a G.o.d, he forbade the people to eat _mulukhiya_. Why did I give in and go out with them? So have I been crowned a killer. The speed, the madness, the murder, the escape; the sharp discussion, the taking of votes in bloodstained democracy. My wife and child rose and died once more. No one save the dead will sleep tonight. That scream, which mocked the perfection of the heavenly spheres! Unknown, from unknown to unknown. When would his mind have mercy on itself and surrender to sleep? The Caliph al-Hakim went up on the mountain to practice his sublime secrets, and did not return. He has not returned to this day. No trace of him has been found, but they still look for him now. That is why I say that he is alive. A blind man saw him once, but no one believed him. He might yet appear to those who smoke the pipe on the night that marks the Qur'an's revelation. As for that unknown man, he has murdered sleep.

His distracted gaze lingered on the refrigerator, just above the door. For the first time he discovered the resemblance between the curve of the door and the forehead of Ali al-Sayyid. And it had eyes as well, filled with tears of mirth. They said that the Caliph al-Hakim had been killed. Impossible. A man such as he could not be killed. But he could, if he wished, commit suicide. From the top of the mountain, he had looked down on Cairo, and commanded the mountain to crush the city; and when the mountain did not carry out his command he realized that his struggle was absurd, and killed himself. That is why I say that he is alive, and may still appear to those who smoke the pipe on the Night of Revelation . . .

He heard Amm Abduh's voice now, from the garden, as he was returning from the prayer. "In the name of G.o.d, the Merciful, the Compa.s.sionate," he was murmuring. Anis called him, and the old man came at once. "Aren't you asleep yet?" he said.

"Have you taken the rest of that good kif?" Anis asked him.

"No, I have not!"

"I've looked for it everywhere; I don't know where it has gone."

"Why are you still awake?"

"My head is still spinning from that d.a.m.ned trip."

"You must go to sleep. It will soon be morning."

As the old man started to leave, Anis asked him: "Amm Abduh, have you ever killed anyone in your life?"

"Oh!"

Anis sighed vexedly. "Oh, go away," he said.

He began to pace to and fro to tire himself out. He went out to the balcony and threw himself down on a mattress, but he was so keenly awake that he despaired of sleep. The fact that there was no kif on the houseboat redoubled his anxiety and sense of foreboding. He would have to summon the patience of the stars.

The streetlights went out. Nature took on her true colors. The first glow of dawn came creeping, staining the horizon with a violet that deepened into carnation. Then the gloom retreated, and the acacias were born again. He rose to his feet, at once despairing and defiant. He held his head under the tap for a long time, and then drank a gla.s.s of milk, which he did not want, from the refrigerator. Then he made himself some coffee and sipped it. He became sick of the place; he put on his suit and left the houseboat early, to wander in the side streets until it was time to go to the office.

He came out to the street clearheaded for the first time. He felt as far as could be from the laughter, the reveries and apparitions of the pipe. The road stretched out ahead of him, bordered on both sides by tall trees. The tops of the trees bowed to meet one another, like a frown on the edge of his field of vision. For the first time he saw the houseboats; large and small, they were moored all along a sh.o.r.e made pretty by the variety of the gardens on the bank.

It was extraordinary. Each houseboat had its own personality, color, youth--or old age; its own human faces appearing at the windows. And the most astonishing thing, a date palm laden with yellow dates. He would not have believed that there was a single date palm on the bank. There were a great number of trees of different sizes and shapes and blossoms. He did not know their names, or anything about them.

A caravan of camels pa.s.sed him. There was a man driving them. He wondered where they had come from, and where they were going. An intimation as strong as certainty stole into his mind: that he was sliding into a depression filled with tension and pain. There was a sign over the door of one of the houseboats: "Furnished Rooms to Let." So here was an empty flat, and a woman as well, not so old or unattractive either, looking in his direction from the upper floor of the houseboat. Think of all the possibilities awaiting a new, bachelor tenant. But how on earth did the sober man get through the day? There was a tree in his way; the huge, st.u.r.dy trunk stopped him short. He looked up at the branches spreading out in the breeze, a huge dome, the top lost in the thin, low clouds of the morning. Then he turned once more to the aged trunk, letting his gaze wander down to the splayed gray roots driving deep into the earth beneath the pavement like talons, as if the tree were in a rigid frenzy of defiance and pain. A patch of bark had been eaten away to reveal pale yellow inner wood, hollowed in the shape of a Gothic arch. Directly in front of him, as tall as he was, it invited him to go in. The great life span of that tree--that one alone--would be enough to convince anyone, even those who did not need to be convinced, that plants were beings with no intelligence. He walked on, examining everything around him, wondering amazed whether the color of existence was red or yellow, and whether the bark of a tree was like a dead man's skin--but when did I see the skin of a dead man? Now he was sure that there was something in his way, challenging, resisting, causing pain. He realized suddenly that he had not shaved. And that when he had been smoking he never forgot to shave. And that made matters even more complicated. A voice asked him the time, but he did not bother to answer it, and paid no attention. He continued sluggishly on, catching sight of a morning newspaper seller, and pa.s.sing him by.

He had not read a newspaper for a long time; he knew nothing of current events except what he picked up from his friends' delirious commentaries that merged into the endless babble of the smoking party. Who were the ministers? What were the policies? How were things going? But who cares! As long as you can walk along a deserted street without a thug attacking you, as long as Amm Abduh brings you the good stuff every evening, as long as there is plenty of milk in the refrigerator, then things must be going well. As for the agonies of sobriety, car accidents, the cryptic conversations of the night, he still did not know who was responsible for those affairs.

He arrived at the Ministry early. Hardly had he sat down on his wooden chair when he was overcome by an irresistible desire for sleep. He rested his head on the desk and sank into a deep slumber. His colleagues called on him to join in a discussion on the penal code, but he told them that the best thing for the government would be the Ten Commandments, especially those on stealing and adultery. He left the room and went to the village back home, and the boys from his childhood surrounded him and threw dirt at him, and he fell on them with a rock in his hand; but Adila grabbed his hand, saying: I am your wife, don't hit me; and he asked her about their daughter and she said: She's gone before us to Paradise, and walks among the immortals, giving them sweet water to drink, and that made him so happy; and he told her that a long life had ended, and he was trying in vain to remember that, and remember that the way to heaven was bordered with evergreens, and you could not walk along it at night, but a car could go the whole way in seconds which were ghastly with fear; and the person screamed but his voice was trapped in his throat and no one heard him and he flew through the air and landed on the branch of a tree; and he said: It was you! And she said: How did you not know? The night was so pitch-black, he said, I couldn't see a thing; and he talked a great deal to no avail; and she said: Tell me what you want, and he said: I want what I was looking for all over the houseboat--but here it is now coming in the shape of a dark cloud; there will be just one downpour, but it will be enough to slake the thirst of one roasting in torment; and then he stretched out his arm toward her, but he spotted Amm Abduh coming from the far end of the road, running as fast as he could, so he ran too, without stopping or turning around, but all the time he felt that the old man was about to catch him; and he reached the houseboat and rushed up the gangway and locked the door behind him, and found to his astonishment that everyone was there, the brothers laughing together as usual; and he embraced them, unable to believe it, and said to them: I had a terrible dream, and Ragab asked him what he dreamed; and he said: I dreamed that we were all in your car, and you were driving us along madly, and we hit a man and he flew through the air; and they laughed for a long time; and Mustafa said: Arrange the bedclothes properly the next time you go to sleep; and he sighed, and said: Let me smoke; and Samara offered him the water pipe, for she was looking after him now; and he took such a deep drag, it made his head spin, and he began to laugh at her and say: Did we not tell you? And she pushed the pipe away, and stood up and wound a scarf around her hips and began to perform an Egyptian dance; and he called on them to clap their hands, but found none of them there--indeed, there was no one else on the boat apart from the two of them, so he clapped for her on his own, and then he took her in his arms, saying: I've been looking for you everywhere, and I asked Amm Abduh about you; and at that moment there came blows pounding on the door, and Amm Abduh's voice was heard, shouting: Open up! And he dragged her by the hand to the refrigerator and they squeezed themselves into it, then he shut the door, and the pounding became more violent until the whole place began to quake, and the quaking went on until he opened his eyes and saw his colleague shaking him.

"Wake up!"

He rubbed his eyes.

"Go to the Director General," the colleague said. "He wants to see you."

He looked at his watch. It was nearly ten. He staggered to his feet, his heart sinking. He went to the washroom and washed his face, and then he went to the Director General's office, and presented himself to him. The man fixed him with a cold look. "Sweet dreams," he said.

Pain and self-disgust prevented Anis from speaking. "I saw you with my own eyes," the man continued, "as I was pa.s.sing through your department. Sleeping like a baby."

"I am ill."

"You should have taken the day off."

"I did not feel ill until I got to work."

"The truth is that you are chronically ill. Incurable, in fact."

Anis was seized by a sudden anger. "No!" he shouted roughly.

"Are you addressing me in that tone?"

"I said that I am ill! Do not make fun of me!"

"You have gone insane--there's no doubt about that."

And Anis shouted, in a voice like thunder: "No!"