This isn't like me. I'm not afraid of the desert, or dreams, and I'm not superstitious, in spite of which I carried out a stupid experiment to talk to the spirit of Alexander. Naturally, I didn't believe that his spirit would appear to me or visit me but I told myself that I'd play the game to pass the time while I was a prisoner in the house after Ibraheem's accident. I did what it said in the book. I closed the windows and doors so that the room was completely dark and lit a candle and put it on the table, with an upturned water glass next to it. I did change the book's instructions, though: I didn't put pieces of paper with the letters of the alphabet round the glass. Why would I need them? I just put next to the glass the three letters YES and, on the other side, NO. That's all I want to know. I closed my eyes, concentrated all my thoughts on Alexander, and murmured his name many times over while at the same time extending the tips of my fingers towards the glass. Then I stated my question: Will I find you here? My voice came out shakily and I was breathing hard, despite myself. Of course I was afraid. Of course, I'm human. Of course my hand that was touching the glass had to tremble, making it move with a low ringing sound, so I got scared and stood up straight away and opened the doors and windows.
I will not repeat the experiment. I still believe that this business of spirits is mere superstition. My fear proved, however, that, like all people, I am afraid of the unknown that cannot be understood. An inherited horror, so there's no need to be ashamed of myself.
There's no need to be ashamed either of the dreams that pursue me, for they are a part of my fear and I'm the one that summoned them. Alexander came to me twice after my stupid call.
On the first night, he came to me in the form that I know from books. He came riding a black horse that flew fast through the sky on its white wings. Then he suddenly swooped towards me and pounced on me, brandishing a sword longer than any I'd ever seen, and I screamed.
The second night, he terrified me again when he came, but this time he had the features of Maleeka and his blond hair was twisted into the same multiple braids as hers. I asked him, 'Why did you do that?' and he laughed and at the same time the braids began to move and twist and change into snakes which started to slither towards me and wrap themselves around my body, and I woke up screaming again.
No, my state is not normal and I have to recover my old self. The first step is to forget all that and start work, the real work that drives out fears and delusions.
I shall confront their leaders themselves and let happen what may.
I set off from our house, which is situated at the bottom of the hill, and climbed towards the entrance to the fortified town. I saw the agwad sitting as usual on their palm-frond-shaded bench in front of the great door.
I had prepared in my head what to say to them. I would repeat what I'd explained to Mahmoud: that I wasn't looking for their wretched treasure in excavating for which they'd destroyed the temples. I didn't want the mummies or the small stone antiquities that the Europeans were so set on finding. Perhaps these words would reassure them and they'd help me. I took with me the big sketchbook so they could understand my request and I ascended the narrow path leading to their gathering place with determined steps.
As soon as they realized I was making for them, they all jumped up and started waving their hands at me to go back. I paid no attention but quickened my step. Their leader, Sheikh Sabir, whom I'd met with Mahmoud on our arrival at the oasis, and who had introduced himself to me, came forwards. He speaks an elevated Arabic which shows that he is well educated, and he expresses himself with extreme refinement, but I find him repulsive. I saw cunning in his narrow eyes. For all that, I may be mistaken, though. Mahmoud told me that this sheikh concerned himself greatly with Sergeant Ibraheem's treatment, in which case he isn't evil. And also, since when has it been enough to judge people by their faces? I should learn from the lesson of Michael and his angelic face.
He came down the slope a few paces while the rest of the agwad continued to yell and wave their hands at me to go back. Despite this, I continued my ascent and Sheikh Sabir continued his descent and when we met he said to me calmly in his classical Arabic, indicating his fellows, 'Your pardon, madame. Are you aware that this gate is that of the agwad}'
He pointed behind him to the thick gate made from the conjoined trunks of palm trees and I replied irritably, despite myself, 'I know, but are you aware that—'
He interrupted me, pointing his forefinger to the left, and saying, 'There is another gate for the women. In our tradition, women cannot enter by the gate of the agwad.'
I tried to control myself. 'I know that too. I know the Qaddouma Gate that is set aside for women. However, you have not had the patience to find out what I want. I have not come here in order to enter the town by your gate, or by the women's gate. What point would there be in entering it when you…? Never mind. I have come to meet the agwad themselves. I want to tell them—'
Once again he interrupted me with his false politeness. 'The agwad may come to you themselves, if His Excellency the district commissioner commands. We are at his service and yours. However, as you can see, the agwad are not at all accustomed to having women approach their gathering. It makes them angry, and His Excellency the district commissioner knows that.'
His repeated and deliberate references to Mahmoud annoyed me. Nevertheless, I opened the sketchbook, saying, 'All I wanted was to ask…'
When I saw him standing unmoving before me, however, as though prepared to prevent me by force from going any farther up, and when I saw his cold eyes and his face, empty of all expression, my enthusiasm suddenly evaporated, and I slammed the sketchbook shut, turned my back on him and set off again without a word. While I was descending the slope, I heard behind me a quavering voice saying in Arabic, 'Madame, wait. Wait.'
I turned round and saw an extremely elderly member of the agwad leaning on a stick and attempting to control his steps as he carefully descended the slope. I waited for him watchfully as he approached and was surprised to see that he was wearing a pair of spectacles secured on his ears with a piece of string. He was the first person I'd seen wearing spectacles in this oasis.
He approached me and said with an Egyptian accent, 'Don't be upset. The agwad don't mean you any harm. It's just that this gate…'
'Is not to be approached by women! I told Sheikh Sabir I didn't want to go into the town anyway.'
'What do you want, then?'
I could hear Sheikh Sabir and the other agwad calling, 'Sheikh Yahya! Sheikh Yahya!'
They continued to gesture to him with their hands, shouting in angry tones, but the aged sheikh didn't look at them and asked me again, 'What do you want? Can we help you?'
I opened the sketchbook and stammered to him, 'I wanted the agwad to understand that I'm not looking for… what I'm more interested in is… What I mean is, can anyone help me to find out if there are any drawings like this in the Great Temple in Aghurmi or anywhere else?'
Then I continued in a rush, 'I swear what I'm looking for has nothing to do with your treasure or any gold. On the contrary, what I'm looking for may bring your oasis lots of gold and treasure. I mean…'
The sheikh said, smiling, the wrinkles on his brown face multiplying, 'Why do you swear? I believe you.'