He left the newspaper at the same time the employees departed. Thinking that perhaps he might get another glimpse of Elham, he stood for a while at the bus stop. The advertisement would take over his search for the moment. A cool breeze was blowing gently; he saw her chatting casually with a group of young people in front of the building. She took her leave from her friends and crossed into a side street and into a small cafeteria called Votre Coin. He followed her without hesitating, and seeing her sitting alone at a table, he walked in and made for the counter. He stopped at her table.
“What a pleasant coincidence! May I join you?”
“Please do,” she said without undue enthusiasm. The waiter had just brought her sandwiches and an orange juice. He ordered the same.
“I hope that I’m not a nuisance. But this is usually the way with strangers.”
“I welcome strangers.”
“Thank you. What I meant is that strangers are always overly keen to strike up friendships. It sometimes puts people off.”
“No. Not at all. You’ve done nothing to put me off.”
“Perhaps you are going to the cinema?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.
“No. We go back to work in a couple of hours. I live at the end of Giza, and you know what public transportation is like. I prefer to take my lunch here.”
“Do you spend your entire lunch hour here?”
“Sometimes I go for a walk along the Nile.”
They ate in silence, Saber stealing a glance whenever she wasn’t looking. Her blue eyes contrasted startlingly with her dark attractive features, altogether a very pretty sight.
“What do you think of the advertisement?” he asked. “Do you think it will achieve its purpose?”
“It always does,” she replied.
He was trying to arouse her curiosity, but she failed to rise to the bait. “The result is very important to me.”
“Don’t you really know anything about the man you’re looking for?”
“I’ve got a photograph and some hazy information.” Then, after a moment’s thought: “My father has sent me to look for him. He knew him many years ago.” He saw a questioning look in her eyes. “An old acquaintance,” he added, smiling. “They had dealings together many years ago.”
“Financial?”
“That as well.”
You are trying to achieve the impossible. This girl is the type that can arouse passions. “I’ve never felt like this before,” he said, changing the subject. She raised her eyebrows with a cynical look. “I mean, being a stranger, living on a hope, and of course, your charming presence,” he explained quickly.
“I’ve heard that before.”
“At work?”
“That’s one example.”
“Are you satisfied with your work?”
“Huh?”
“Would you give it up and keep house?”
“I consider this my career, not just a temporary stopgap.” His ideas of the opposite sex were firmly entrenched. They were beautiful, savage beings looking for love and passion, without principles or scruples. His mother and her circle of friends reinforced this idea. However, he did not undress her in his mind, as he usually did with any member of the opposite sex. There was something more to this girl. A certain mystery, a certain magic. Some secret he had never come across before. He would not be able to enjoy her as he had others, savagely, passionately, with an animal lust. She was unique. Something quite new to him.
“But look at the care you take over your fingernails, for example.”
Indignation showed on her face, and she said sharply, “What about the care you take over your hair!”
“Please excuse me,” he said hastily. “I was merely expressing my admiration.” And somewhat apologetically, he added, “When I return to Alexandria I shall take back the sweetest memories of our meeting.”
“Why didn’t you advertise in Alexandria?”
“Well, advertising is only part of my search.” He was about to settle both their bills, but she objected strongly. “If you had offered, I wouldn’t have objected,” he said, laughing.
He noticed that she was looking at his reflection in the mirror on the left-hand wall. A feeling of satisfaction swept over him. Perhaps he had made the same impression on her as he had made on other women. They stood up, shook hands, and separated. He fought the strong desire to follow her. When he returned to the hotel, he notified Mr. Khalil Abul Naga and Mohamed el-Sawi that he was expecting a phone call from a Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy.
“Then you are searching for your father?” said the old man, Khalil. “How did you lose him?”
“The same way that he lost me. And here I am looking for him.”
“What a strange story,” said the old man.
“There’s nothing strange about it,” he said, annoyed at the questions. “Please call me if there is a phone call.”
A young man in search of his father, that’s what they’ll say about him. He picked up a newspaper and sat in the lounge. The telephone rang. Sayed Reheimy, hairdresser from Bulaq, Reheimy the schoolteacher, the tram driver, the grocer. Where is Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy? Why doesn’t he contact him like the others? If he’s dead, where is his next of kin? His funds were being rapidly depleted. The other hotel guests sat around smoking, drinking coffee, chatting. No one noticed him. Thank God. They didn’t read the advertisements. Your money will run out. Where is your father? You are nothing but a pimp and a hustler. Life was beautiful when your mother was alive. Money, pleasure, more money, more pleasure. Fighting for your mother’s name, in vain perhaps. But nevertheless fighting. Money, pleasure, and bloody battles.
“Cotton…Everything now depends on cotton,” said one of the guests as he looked up from the paper at his companion.
“But this impending war? Won’t it guarantee our cotton?” asked his companion.
“It won’t be like previous wars.”
“That’s true. Nothing will remain.”
“And where is God? The Creator and Protector of all this?” That’s true. Where was God? He knew of the name. But that was about all. He lived in a world without religion. The telephone vigil continued. Thoughts of Elham and Khalil’s wife flashed through his mind. The breeze and the flame. We need both. If my father doesn’t put in an appearance, it’s back to fear, hunger, and a tainted past filled with crime and sin.
The telephone rang. It wasn’t for him. But as he looked toward the phone booth, he saw her. His heart stopped beating and his breathing became heavy. So she’s back. That look again. A conspiracy of desire and mockery. Reheimy and Elham were soon forgotten. He left the lounge and went up to his room on the third floor. Footsteps were approaching. He opened the door. “Welcome back.”
She nodded, smiling.
“We really missed you.”
She laughed quietly and hurried up to the fourth floor. “Alexandria,” he said suddenly, summoning up his courage.
She stopped. “Alexandria?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If you’ve forgotten, I can’t.”
“You’re mad.”
That sapped his newfound courage. “But aren’t…?”
“Don’t try these old tricks on me,” she interrupted and continued up the stairs.
“Well, anyway, please accept my unbounded admiration!”
She disappeared up the stairs. He leaned on the banister to get his breath and allow the fires of desire to die down. The night of the chase reappeared vividly in his imagination. Aly Seriakous, the porter, was coming down the stairs.
“I think I hear someone calling you,” Saber told him slyly. “Maybe it was Madame.”
“Madame?”
“Mr. Khalil’s wife.”
“No. I don’t think so. It might be the guest in room fifteen. I’ve just seen Madame enter her flat.”
“Ah. Maybe. Does Madame live in the flat?”
“Mr. Khalil’s flat. On the roof.”
“Where was she these past few days?”
“At her mother’s. She goes there every month.”
He saw Khalil coming down the stairs. Hatred and resentment suddenly filled him. Beauty and the beast! He couldn’t bear the idea of staying one minute longer in the hotel. The sun and fresh wind lifted his feelings of depression, anger, and envy. How he wished he had more time to go sightseeing. The advertisement would not be published after tomorrow.
“Anything new?” asked Elham as he walked into her office at the paper.
“Telephone calls and meetings, all to no avail.”
“Patience.”
He watched her fingers skip over the keys of the typewriter. A sudden feeling of sadness came over him in spite of the happiness at seeing her.
Ihsan Tantawi was busy writing an obituary. He remembered the last night in his mother’s life. All his happiness and future were now hanging on a fine thread lost in an enveloping fog. Tantawi finished writing and looked up. “A renewal?” he asked, smiling.
“I’ve seen many people, but not him,” said Saber with despair in his voice.
“Such an advertisement requires patience,” said Tantawi encouragingly.
“But he is supposed to be very well-known.”
“You only know his name. All the rest is hearsay. I’ve lived in many districts over the past thirty years, and I’ve never heard of him.”
“But I trust the person who sent me to look for him.”
“Then there must be a secret which only time will reveal.”
“I’ve got a photograph of him. It was taken thirty years ago.”
“We can put it in the advertisement; it will help.”
He showed him the photograph.
“He certainly looks impressive,” murmured Tantawi.
Saber waited for Tantawi to comment on the resemblance. He didn’t, and proceeded to discuss the costs of the new advertisement, to which Saber reluctantly agreed. His money was dwindling, and dwindling fast. He walked into the cafeteria and sat at Elham’s table, waiting for her. She walked in, saw him, hesitated for a moment, then sat at his table. He ordered lunch for two.
“I’ve seen the photograph,” she said.
“Really?”
“The resemblance is striking.”
“You mean the man?”
She nodded, looking at him searchingly.
“He’s my brother,” he lied.
“Your brother! Why didn’t you say so before?”
He smiled, but did not answer.
“Who is the beautiful woman in the photograph?”
“His late wife.”
“Oh. And, your brother…I mean how…?”
“He disappeared before I was born. It was the usual chain of events. A quarrel, then disappearance. And now thirty years later, my father sent me to look for him.”
“What a strange story. But what makes you think he is a well-known personality?”
“My father told me. Maybe it’s mere supposition. But what strikes me as strange is that Mr. Tantawi didn’t notice the resemblance. Did he mention anything after I left?”
“No. But Tantawi’s head is full of figures and statistics.”
The waiter brought their lunch. They started eating. He stopped and said apologetically, “I’m sorry to be intruding on you like this, but I’m a lonely stranger in a big city.”
She smiled at him. “How do you spend your spare time?”
“Waiting.”
“How boring. But searching doesn’t entail waiting.”
“Waiting is unavoidable.”
“What do you do while waiting?”
“Nothing.”
“Impossible!”
“Now you realize how badly I need a friend,” he said with a pleading look in his eyes. The sympathetic look on her face encouraged him. “You are the friend I need.” She took a sip of her orange juice. “Well, what do you say?” he asked.
“You might be disappointed.”
“Don’t worry about that. In these matters, only the heart can tell.”
“We might meet when you come in to renew the advertisement.”
Laughing, he said, “In that case, you want me to keep renewing the advertisement indefinitely.”
“If you are so keen on finding him.”
“I am. But if the advertisement doesn’t find him, I must.”
She raised her glass; he raised his. “Cheers.”
“I think I’d better tread carefully with you,” she said with a smile.
They drank, exchanging glances and smiles. He wouldn’t have chased her that night long ago had she been the other girl, the seaside girl with the salty taste and carnations in her hair. She was very dear to him. He was in love with her.
You ask who the beautiful girl is in the photograph. You didn’t see her on her last night on earth. Her body wrapped in the white shroud, wasted and worn out. Suddenly he looked up and said, “I’m truly grateful!”
She recognized the trap but did not object. A happy silence reigned. The seeds were sown. The search is long and arduous and requires an occasional rest in the shade.