“What are you talking about? Are you j—” He wanted to say “joking” but something in the Eunuchs’ Goat’s gray eyes stopped him short.
“Go ahead, say it. I was always the clown.”
“What are you doing riding around in a garbage truck? And what happened before? Was that all real?”
“Only as real as you.” The Eunuchs’ Goat gave him a withering look, sweeping his gray gaze from top to toe, but Yusuf ignored the affront and carried on talking.
“Did you go back to the Lane of Many Heads? It isn’t safe there any more. Things aren’t the way they were back before you got arrested. Did you hear? Azza was probably murdered.”
“When was she ever alive? When were any of us? Women are insects. At least for us men, death is a victory. It liberates our souls … What is all this crap?” Yusuf sensed danger in the bizarre words.
“I’ll get out here, please.”
“No. You’re coming with me.”
“With you? Where?”
“You’ll see. You have to see.”
The hot wind whipped at their faces, yellowing them. Yusuf wanted to shut the window but he didn’t dare move. For the first time in his life, he was frightened of one of his childhood friends.
“I have to at least know where you’re taking me.” His voice betrayed his terror.
“Don’t forget I just saved your life.” Every word that came out of his mouth sounded strange. There was no trace left of the simple Eunuchs’ Goat he’d known since childhood.
“What happened to you?”
The Eunuchs’ Goat looked back and forth between Yusuf and the driver, who hadn’t said a word the entire time, as if expecting one of them to rescue him. Yusuf’s eyes fell on the Eunuchs’ Goat’s hands, the dirt under his fingernails. Not even his hands resembled the old Eunuchs’ Goat’s polished marble hands, whose elegance had defied the hardships of life in the Lane of Many Heads. Yusuf’s searching look made the Eunuchs’ Goat uncomfortable so he quickly tried to distract him.
“Get ready. We’re about to go through a checkpoint.” Yusuf didn’t have time to respond or even comprehend. “Get down now.” Without any warning, he shoved Yusuf’s head into a black sack and Yusuf felt hands and feet like steel on his body, holding him down beneath the seat.
The truck seemed like it would keep going forever. Every time they stopped, Yusuf could feel the steel limbs crushing him down further beneath the seat. It was more to punish him than to keep him out of sight. Finally when they parked, they yanked him out of the truck roughly and pushed him forward. The ground felt soft and moist beneath his feet and the stench of rotting garbage blinded him. He knew he was walking on a trash heap. Just then, the black sack was pulled off his head to reveal the Eunuchs’ Goat smirking at him:
“Welcome to my kingdom! Now, follow me.” He led him through a network of tunnels and chambers so tortuous that Yusuf couldn’t tell whether they were penetrating deeper down into the earth or up into the sky. He would’ve lost his way if it weren’t for the deep earthy smell that guided them like a compass. Yusuf recognized the muggy smell that used to hang over the kitchen scraps dumped outside in the Lane of Many Heads. He realized that the tunnels below weren’t deep like a cave, but ran beneath the thinnest layer of dirt, as shallow as the city’s pride.
The Eunuchs’ Goat finally pushed through a reed mat and cleared their way to the surface. They passed layers of rags, rotting vegetables, food, plastic tubs, soda cans, electronics, massive piles of broken mobile phones. There were mounds and mounds of garbage as far as the eye could see and the dump was surrounded by developments of what looked like doll’s houses. It didn’t matter if they were in Mecca any more or somewhere else. The garbage dump might as well have been the whole world, Yusuf felt.
All around them faces appeared from behind stacks of boxes, curtains strung up haphazardly between piles of trash, and sheet-metal doors stuck into the ground, guarding the void behind. With a single glance, the Eunuchs’ Goat informed him that he’d found refuge; his breath gave off the stench of decay.
Yusuf’s lungs seized up when the Eunuchs’ Goat led him to the massive trenches that were used as ovens. The African dump kings lit fires there to burn plastic and aluminum, sending massive plumes of smoke into the air. Yusuf’s eyes began to make out the flocks of grimy children swooping like birds of ash through the smoke, laughing and coughing, feeding the flames. Women the same color as garbage heaps were scattered around the edge of the trenches, picking containers and food out of the piles and scurrying back to their hovels tucked away in the stinking mounds.
The Eunuchs’ Goat led him straight toward the volcanic ditch, which was surrounded by a ring of trash piles. It looked like a conference room. They were met by a group of five men. Their decrepit smell was nothing compared to their skin: ashy, dry, cracked; he could see it peeling and flaking from where he stood. When they got nearer the odor was unbearable. “Finally. There he is.” Two of the men grabbed him, pulling his arms back behind him, pushing his head forward, constraining his movements. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break free.
“What’s going on?” Yusuf shouted at the Eunuchs’ Goat. A short man with a thick beard came forward and blocked Yusuf’s vision.
“No questions allowed. This is a trial.” Yusuf cast his eyes stupidly over the dirt-smeared faces. “So where’s the key?” It took him some time to decipher those words in broken Arabic. It became apparent that the Ethiopian man with the unkempt beard was the one in charge. A surprise kick broke one of Yusuf’s ribs. When he cried out in pain, the Eunuchs’ Goat jumped up to intervene.
“You promised me you would leave that task to me. I’m the one who succeeded in bringing him here and I’m the one who’ll rip the answer out of his disgusting body,” he said as he pushed the Ethiopian man away from Yusuf.
“Yusuf, give me the key.” A caravan of garbage trucks arrived at the dump and deposited their fresh cargo. They attracted flocks of children dressed in tatters who appeared from out of nowhere, from behind every mound and pile, running and diving into the new harvest, collecting the treasures and treats, fighting with starving women and women who looked like they’d just arrived. To Yusuf, the scene appeared a nightmare.
“What key?” he murmured.
“We know it was you who fought the thief in the Haram Mosque. You don’t deserve to keep the key or even to live in the vicinity of the Haram.”
“What do you mean ‘I don’t deserve to’?”
“You’re unclean,” the Ethiopian answered. “You’re an idol-worshipping journalist. You want to revive pagan Mecca, not the Mecca of Islam. You direct your prayers toward stone walls.” The Eunuchs’ Goat got between them.
“Are you going to let me take care of this or should I just go? This man is mine. I’m the one who brought him here.”
“You can have him, just shut him up and spare us this little girl’s whining,” he said turning to Yusuf with a spiteful look. “You know full well who you are. You know who your father was. You infidels are forbidden from living within the vicinity of our Sanctuary.”
Yusuf seemed completely taken aback by it all, but the Eunuchs’ Goat didn’t spare a moment:
“Just give us the key to the Kaaba already. It’s the Lord’s House, our Holy Mosque.”
“Your mosque?” Yusuf’s head was pounding.
“We are his servants, earth-renouncing,” said the third man who’d been silent the entire time. “You’re dirty, boy, and you’re defiling the Lord’s House. Your hand defiles the key.”
“Yusuf, the key …” The Eunuchs’ Goat repeated himself like a broken record. “If you don’t cooperate, my brothers will kill you. If you continue being stubborn, it will be out of my hands.”