Numb and shivering with fright, Dr. Booshy obeyed. On such occasions Dr. Booshy would sit on the middle step and light a candle, which he would place on the bottom step. He would then close his eyes tight and bury his face between his knees. He hated going into tombs, and he had often pleaded with Zaita to spare him the ordeal. However, his colleague always refused him and insisted he participate in each separate stage. He seemed to enjoy torturing Dr. Booshy in this way.
The wick of the candle was burning now, lighting the interior. Zaita stared stonily at the corpses laid out in their shrouds side by side throughout the length and breadth of the vault, their order symbolizing the sequence of history, the constant succession of time. The fearful silence of the place spoke loudly of eternal extinction, but brought no echo from Zaita. His gaze soon fixed on the new shroud near the entrance to the vault and he sat down beside it cross-legged. He then stretched out his two cold hands, uncovered the head of the corpse and laid bare its lips. He drew out the teeth and put them in his pocket. Then he covered the head as he had found it and moved away from the corpse toward the entrance.
Dr. Booshy still sat with his head between his knees, the candle burning on the bottom step. Zaita looked at him scornfully and mumbled in sarcasm, "Wake up!" Dr. Booshy raised his trembling head and blew out the candle. He raced up the steps as though in retreat. Zaita followed him quickly, but upon emerging from the vault he heard a fearsome scream and the doctor yelping like a kicked dog, "For God's sake have mercy!" Zaita stopped short and then rushed down the steps, icy with fear and not knowing what to do. He retreated backward into the vault until his heel touched the corpse. He moved forward a step and stood glued to the floor, not knowing where to escape to. He thought of lying down between the corpses but before he could make a move he was enveloped in a dazzling light that blinded him. A loud voice shouted out in an Upper Egyptian accent, "Up you come, or I'll fire on you."
In despair, he climbed the steps as ordered. He had completely forgotten the set of gold teeth in his pocket.
The news that Dr. Booshy and Zaita had been apprehended in the Taliby sepulcher reached the alley the next evening. Soon the story and all its details spread, and everyone heard it with a mixture of amazement and alarm. When Mrs. Saniya Afify heard the news, she was overcome with hysteria. Wailing in distress, she pulled the gold teeth from her mouth and flung them away, slapping hysterically at both cheeks. Then she fell down in a faint. Her new husband was in the bathtub, and when he heard her screams, panic struck him. Throwing a robe over his wet body, he rushed wildly to her rescue.
28
Uncle Kamil was sitting in his chair on the threshold of his shop, lost in a dream, his head resting on his chest. The fly whisk lay in his lap. He was awakened by a tickling sensation on his bald head, and he lifted his hand to brush off what he thought was a fly. His fingers touched a human hand. Angrily he seized it and groaned audibly, lifting his head to seek the prankster who had wakened him from his pleasant slumber. His gaze fell upon Abbas, the barber, and he could scarcely believe his eyes. He stared in blind confusion. Then his bloated red face beamed in delight and he made as if to get up.
His young friend protested at this gesture and hugged him tightly, shouting emotionally, "How are you, Uncle Kamil?"
"How are you, Abbas?" the man replied in delight. "Welcome indeed. You made me very lonely by going away, you bastard!"
Abbas stood before him smiling while Uncle Kamil gazed at him tenderly. He was dressed in a smart white shirt and gray trousers. His head was bare and his curly hair gave him a decidedly appealing look. All in all, he seemed extremely fit.
Uncle Kamil looked him up and down admiringly and said in his high-pitched voice, "My, my! Oh, Johnny, you do look good!"
Abbas, obviously in the best of spirits, laughed heartily and replied in English, "Thank you… From today on Sheikh Darwish is not the only one who can chatter away in English!"
The young man's eyes roved up and down his beloved alley and rested on his old shop. He could see its new owner shaving a customer and he stared longingly in greeting. Then his gaze lifted to the window. He found it closed just as it was when he had arrived. Abbas wondered whether she was home or not, and what she would do if she opened the shutter and saw him there. She would stare at him in delighted surprise while his eyes feasted on her dazzling beauty. This was going to be the happiest day of his life…
His attention was once again drawn to Uncle Kamil's voice asking, "Have you quit your job?"
"Oh no. I've just taken a short holiday."
"Have you heard what happened to your friend Hussain Kirsha? He left his father and got married. Then they fired him and he came back home, dragging his wife and her brother along behind him."
Abbas looked sad. "What rotten luck! They're firing a lot of people these days. How did Mr. Kirsha welcome him home?"
"Oh, he's never stopped complaining. Anyway, the young man and his family are still in the house."
He sat quietly for perhaps half a minute and then, as though he had just remembered something important, said, "Have you heard that Dr. Booshy and Zaita are in prison?"
Then he related how they had been captured in the Taliby sepulcher and been convicted of stealing a set of gold teeth. This news staggered Abbas. He would not have put it past Zaita to commit the most dreadful evil, but he was amazed that Dr. Booshy was a participant in this ghoulish crime. He recalled how Dr. Booshy had wanted to fit him with gold teeth when he returned from Tell el-Kebir. He shuddered in disgust.
Uncle Kamil continued: "Mrs. Saniya Afify has got married…" He almost added, "Let's hope you do the same." But he stopped suddenly, recalling Hamida. In days to come he was often amazed at his frequent lapses of memory.
However, Abbas noticed no change in Uncle Kamil, as he was quite lost in his dreams. He stepped back a couple of paces and said, "Well then, goodbye for now."
His friend was afraid the news might shock him terribly if it came too suddenly, and he asked hurriedly, "Where are you going?"
"To the cafe to see my friends," replied Abbas, moving along.
Uncle Kamil rose with some difficulty and shuffled off after his friend.
It was late in the afternoon, and Kirsha and Sheikh Darwish were the only ones in the cafe. Abbas greeted Kirsha, who welcomed him, and he shook hands with Sheikh Darwish. The old man stared at him smilingly from behind his spectacles but did not speak.
Uncle Kamil stood to one side, gloomily obsessed with thoughts about how he could broach the painful news. At last he spoke: "How about coming back with me to the shop for a while?"
Abbas hesitated between accompanying his friend and making the visit he had dreamed of these past few months. However, he wanted to please Uncle Kamil and he saw no harm in staying with him. He accompanied him, hiding his impatience with small talk.