The Thief and the Dogs

Said was astounded: why did the government interfere with the affairs of the order? he asked. The Sheikh informed him that it had all resulted from a suggestion by their great authority Rauf Ilwan, who had been nominated for the post of Supreme Sheikh. Stunned with amazement for the third time, Said protested that Rauf was nothing but a traitor, who only had criminal thoughts, and the Sheikh retorted that that was why he'd been recommended for this responsible position. He added that Rauf had promised to offer a new exegesis of the Holy Koran, giving all possible interpretations, so as to benefit each man according to his purchasing power; the money this beneficent move would bring in would be invested in setting up clubs for shooting, hunting, and committing suicide. Said declared that he was prepared to act as treasurer for the new Exegesis Administration and that Rauf Ilwan would no doubt testify to his integrity as one of his brightest former pupils.

At that point the Sheikh intoned the opening chapter of the Koran, lanterns were suspended from the trunk of the palm tree, and a reciter chanted, "Blessed be ye, O people of Egypt, our lord Husayn is now yours."

When he opened his eyes the whole world looked red, empty and meaningless. The Sheikh sat in repose, everything about him, from his loose garment to his skull cap and beard, a shiny white, and at Said's first movement the Sheikh turned his gaze on him. Said sat up hurriedly and looked apologetic, assailed by memories that rushed into his mind like roaring flames.

"It is now late afternoon," said the Sheikh, "and you haven't had a bite of food."

Said looked first at the hole in the wall, then at the Sheikh and muttered absent-mindedly, "Late afternoon!"

"Yes. I thought to myself: let him sleep.

God presents His gifts as His will alone decides."

Said was suddenly troubled. He wondered if anybody had seen him asleep there all day.

"I was aware of many people coming in," he lied, "while I was asleep."

"You were aware of nothing. But one man brought me my lunch, another came to sweep the place, water the cactus, tend the palm tree, and get the courtyard ready for God's loving worshippers."

"What time are they coming?" he said, a little worried.

"At sunset. When did you arrive?"

"At dawn."

The Sheikh sat silent for a while, stroking his beard, then said, "You are very wretched, my son!"

"Why?" said Said, anxious to know the answer.

"You've had a long sleep, but you know no rest. Just like a child laid under the fire of the blazing sun. Your burning heart yearns for shade, yet continues forward under the fire of the sun. Haven't you learnt to walk yet?"

Said rubbed his blood-shot, almond-shaped eyes. "It's a disturbing thought, to be seen asleep by others."

"The world is unaware of him who is unaware of it," the Sheikh replied, showing no concern.

Said's hand passed lightly over the pocket where he kept the revolver. He wondered what the Sheikh would do if he were to point his gun at him.

Would his maddening composure be shaken?

"Are you hungry?" the Sheikh asked.

"No."

"If it is true that man can be poor in God, so is it true man can be rich in Him," the Sheikh went on, his eyes almost smiling.

If, that is, the first proposition is indeed true! thought Said. "Well then, Master," he said lightly, "what would you have done if you'd been afflicted with a wife like mine and if your daughter had rejected you as mine has me?"

A look of pity appeared in the old man's clear eyes: "God's slave is owned by God alone!"

Cut off your tongue before it betrays you and confesses your crime! You wish to tell him everything. He probably doesn't need to be told. He may even have seen you fire the gun.

And he may be able to see much more than that.

A voice outside the window hawked The Sphinx. Said got up at once, walked to the window, called the newspaper boy, handed him a small coin and returned with the paper to where he'd been sitting, forgetting all about the Sheikh, his eyes riveted to a huge black headline: "Dastardly Murder in the Citadel Quarter!" He devoured the lines beneath in a flash, not understanding anything. Was this another murder?

His own picture was there and so were pictures of Nabawiyya and Ilish Sidra, but who was that bloodstained man? His own life story was staring at him, too, sensational doings blown in every direction like dust in a whirlwind — the story of a man who came out of prison to find his wife married to one of his underlings. But who was the bloodstained man? How had his bullet entered this stranger's chest? This victim was someone else, and Said was seeing him for the first time in his life.

You'd better start reading again.