And so? Why don't you feel you can talk around them?
Haj Harun turned to Joe and opened his mouth. Most of his teeth were gone, only a few stumps remained.
Rocks, he whispered. For two thousand years people have thrown rocks at me and run after me yelling insults because they said I was a fool. Well maybe I am.
Joe put his arm around the old man's shoulders.
Here now, what's this all of a sudden? You're not a fool, we know that. The city depends on you, it's survived because of you. You're the one who patrols the walls and guards the gates and sounds the alarm when the enemy's coming. If you weren't here who would rebuild the city after it's destroyed? How would the mountain keep growing higher? Who would take care of the caverns?
Haj Harun lowered his head. He was weeping quietly.
Thank you, Prester John. I know I've always failed but it still means a great deal to me to have someone know I've tried.
Not tried man, said Joe, you did it. Now get ahold of yourself and let's forget this nonsense.
Haj Harun wiped his eyes. As he did his helmet tipped and released a new shower of rust in his face. The tears began to flow again.
Thank you, he whispered. But you see it's going to take me time to get used to having friends again. To be able to trust people again. After so much ridicule and humiliation, and the slaps and the kicks and the punches that go with it, you can't help but be afraid. When we met and you believed what I said rather than beating me when I said it, that was wonderful, the best thing that had happened to me in two thousand years, ever since I lost my credibility in Jerusalem. But I don't want to rush things with Munk and Cairo, I have to have some confidence in myself again. I'm so afraid they might think I was mad and it's terrible when people think that, it hurts much more than the slaps and the kicks and the punches. You can understand that, can't you? Please? A little?
Of course I can, all of it. Now then, let's both of us stand up straight. It's a March morning and spring is coming and we're walking through the streets of your city. Let's smile too.
Haj Harun tried to smile and a shy little twisted grin flickered across his face. Two well-dressed young men were going by and he tentatively held up one of his newly laundered dishcloths to show them. With a single glance they took in the dishcloth and the old man's faded yellow cloak, his spindly legs and bare feet, his rusty Crusader's helmet with the two green ribbons tied under his chin.
As if on command the two young men noisily coughed up phlegm and spat into the gutter. They both turned their heads away as they went striding by, one holding his nose and the other making an obscene gesture.
Haj Harun dropped the dishcloth to his side and shrank back against the wall, cringing pathetically. An enormous sigh escaped his lips.
You see? he whispered sadly. The younger generation doesn't believe in me at all. They think I'm just a useless old man.
What? said Joe. Those fat werewolves from the merchant class? Who cares about them? They've already taken a turn on their morning hookahs and they're so dazed they couldn't believe in anything. The hell with them, we were talking about Munk and Cairo, two very fine gents. I mean I don't think you have to worry with the likes of a Munk or a Cairo.
Maybe I don't, but I still feel shy around them. Anyway a time will come, Prester John, and I'd rather wait until I feel easy about it. I do like them though. Isn't that enough for now?
It is, certainly, so let's be on our way. Say, did I ever tell you I used to have a regular name before I came to Jerusalem five years ago?
Everyone always has other names before they come here.
I believe it. But how would you like to call me by this other name once in a while?
Haj Harun looked puzzled.
Why?
Just so I won't be confused, just because it was the name I was born with. Sometimes I do get confused when we're together. You know, time and all, it can be a jumble.
Time is, murmured Haj Harun.
By God I know it, but just occasionally. O'Sullivan Beare's the name. Or just O'Sullivan if that seems too long.
That's Irish.
That's what it is all right. Now can you use it now and then so I can keep myself straight?
If you wish.
Yes, that would be nice.
They walked into the garden in front of St Ann's and sat down on a bench. Haj Harun untied the two green ribbons under his chin, removed his rusty helmet and held it out to Joe.
Do you see these parallel dents on each side, O'Rourke? I got them one day five or six hundred years ago when I was on my way out of the grotto in this church.
A fight to the finish, was it? You were emerging from the caverns and the Crusaders had the exits blocked?
Oh no. That is, I was emerging from the caverns but there was no one around at all, unfortunately for me.
You remember how low the ceiling is on the stairway up from the grotto? Well my torch had gone out and it was night and I kept banging my head with every step I took. Finally I became so angry I butted the ceiling and got stuck.
Stuck?
My helmet did, O'Banion, in a cleft between two rocks in the ceiling. And then I lost my footing and there I was hanging in mid-air by my helmet. I felt like the top of my head was coming off.
Awful, I know the feeling. I have it some mornings myself. How did you escape?
I didn't. I had to hang there the rest of the night. The next day a group of pilgrims came along at last and freed me by pulling on my legs, which was terrible. Then I really felt as if the top of my head was coming off.
Haj Harun stirred uneasily.
O'Donnell?
Yes?
O'Driscoll?
Still here as best I can be.
You know all at once my mind seems to be a perfect blank.
Why?
I can't imagine. I'll have to think about it
Good.
But that won't help, will it, if my mind's a perfect blank to begin with? Oh dear, I just seem to be going around in circles today.
Suddenly Haj Harun laughed.
I know why it is. It's because we're here. This is a very special place to me.
The old man chuckled and put his helmet back on his head. He drifted over to the church where a part of the wall attracted his attention. He examined himself carefully in a small nonexistent mirror, then stepped back to examine himself again in a full-length, nonexistent mirror. All the while he was humming and smiling and raising and lowering his eyebrows.
Seems unusually concerned with his appearance, thought Joe.
O'Brien?
Yes?
I've never seen a helmet with more dents in it than mine, and isn't that just like history? Always new blows to the head? Inevitable blows it would seem?
Seems so, yes it does.
But there are other moments in life, O'Connor, truly unforgettable moments. Here in this garden, for example, in my youth.
Your youth? A journey, I'd say. How far back are we going?
To the Persian occupation. Oh those were the days, you can't imagine.
Haj Harun laughed softly.
Such long lazy afternoons, O'Dair. I ate garlic incessantly during the Persian occupation and always wore my leather bracelet, the one with the right testicle of a donkey inside it.
Do you say that. Why these customs?
To increase my sexual powers.
Ah.
Yes. And when it was necessary I induced abortions through the mouth.
By way of, you mean?
No, out of. That could still be done then.
I see.
And I had to do it frequently because I was very active with the ladies. Feverish days, O'Casey, when the Persians were here.
Feverish?
Sex. Just sex and more sex. Rampant sex. I was insatiable.
Groin fever in other words. Couldn't get enough of it?
No, never. Not until the princess finally accepted me as her lover. I even remember the year. It was 454