Early one afternoon, the Alley saw a strange young man
arrive from the direction of the desert, followed by another
who was little taller than a dwarf. He wore a gray jellaba next
to the skin, fastened with a belt, above which it bulged with the
thi ngs inside. 1-Iis shoes were worn and torn and his head was
bare, with thick, disheveled hair. He was brown and had
restless, piercing eyes with a haunted look, and he moved wi th
poise and confidence. He stopped for a moment i n front of the
Great House, then came on unhurriedly, followed by his
companion. People stared as if to say: 'A stranger in our Alley!
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What a cheek! ' He read it in the eyes of the peddlers and
s hopkeepers and of the people sitting in the cafes or looking
down from their windows, and even in the eyes of the dogs and
cats. He almost imagined the very flies might avoid him
contemptuously. Urchins scrutinised him aggressively, and
some of them advanced on him while others loaded their
catapults or searched the ground for stones. He gave them a
friendly smile, put his hand i nside his jellaba, pulled out some
peppermints, and began handing them out. They came up
happily and stood chewing the peppermints and looking up at
him in admiration. He spoke to them, still smiling:
- Is there an empty basement to let? I 'll give a bag of
peppermi nts to whoever shows me.
A woman sitting on the ground in front of a tenement-house
asked:
- A thousand curses on you ! Who are you to live in our
Alley?
H e laughed:
- I ' m Arafa; at your service: a son of this Alley as much as
anybody, just back after a long absence.
The woman eyed him sharply.
- Whose son are you, mother's boy?
He roared with laughter.
- The son of 'She-Mule'. Did you know her?
- She-Mule? The fortune-teller?
- The very one!
A woman spoke from where she leaned against a wall,
following the conversation as she deloused a boy's head:
- In those days you were a little boy running about after
your mother; I remember you. But everything about you's
changed except your eyes.
The first woman said:
- Yes ! And where's your mother? Dead? God rest her soul!
I often sat by her basket asking about the un known and
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A raJa
whispering prayers, with her casting shells and telling the
answers. God rest your soul, She-Mule!
- Long life to you ! Perhaps you can tell me of an empty
basement.
The woman stared at him with bleary eyes and asked:
- What's brought you back after all this time?
He said with mock wisdom:
- A man 's steps lead back to his own alley and his own
people.
She pointed to a tenement-house in Rifaa's sector.
- There's a basement there for you; it's been empty since
the woman who lived there died in a fire, God rest her soul !
Doesn't that frighten you?
A woman looking out of her window laughed and said:
- This is a man devils will be scared of.
He looked up, his face full of laughter.
- Deligh tfu l Alley! What charming, witty people! Now I
know why my mother told me to come back! (Then, looki ng at
the seated woman: ) We must all die, whether by fire or water,
devils or cudgels.
He said goodbye to her and went towards the tenementhouse she had pointed out. Many pairs of eyes followed him.
One man said mockingly:
- We know who his mother was, but who was his father?
An old woman said:
- God alone knows!
Someone else said:
- He can claim to be the son of a father from Gebel 's sector
or Rifaa's or Qaasi m's,just as it suits him. God rest his mother's
soul!
Arafa's companion whispered angrily to him:
- Why did you bring us back to this place?
Arafa went on smiling.
- I hear this sort of talk everywhere, and anyway this is our
Alley. It's the only one we can live in, and we've had enough of
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wandering round the bazaars and sleeping in the desert or i n
ruins. Besides, these people are good, in spite o f their foul
tongues, and stupid, in spite of their cudgels. H ere we can
easily earn our living; remember that, Hanash, you old snake!
Hanash shrugged his narrow shoulders as if to say: 'God
knows.' A drugged man stopped them and asked Arafa:
- What do we call you?
- Arafa.
- Arafa what?
- Arafa son of She-Mule.
The bystanders roared with laughter at his humiliation. The
man said:
- We wondered a lot when your mother was pregnant who
the father was. Did she tell you?
Arafa laughed louder to hide his discomfort and said:
- She herself died without knowing.
He went off, leavi ng them laughi ng. The news of his return
spread fast. Before he had taken over the basement, the boy
from the Rifaaite cafe came and said:
- Our strongman, Fisticuff, wants to see you.
He went to the nearby cafe. His eye was first caught by the
paintings on the wall above the bard's bench. At the bottom
was a picture of Fisticuff mounted on his horse, above it one of
Trustee Qadri, with his magnificen t moustache and his splendid robe, and at the top was a picture of Gebelaawi lifting Rifaa's body out of the grave to take it to his house. He looked
at these with interest as he went i nto the cafe. He found
Fisticuff sitting on a bench on the right-hand side surrounded
by his cronies and supporters. Arafa went over to him, and the
strongman gave him a long look of contempt, as if to hypnotize
him before attacking. Arafa said, raising a hand:
- Greetings to our strongman, our protector and helper!
Fisticuffs narrow eyes were full of scorn.
- Pretty words, young man, but words are not enough
around here.
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A raja
Arafa smiled.
- Other things will soon follow, I hope.
- We have more beggars than we need.
- I'm not a beggar, sir; I ' m a magician known to millions.
They exchanged glances. Fisticuff said with a frown:
- What do you mean, you son of a crazy mother!?
Arafa put his hand i n the breast ofhisjellaba and pulled out
an exquisite little box the size of a jujube. He went up to the
strongman meekly and held it out to him. Fisticuff took it
without interest, opened it and saw some dark substance. He
looked up inquiringly. Arafa said with boundless confidence:
-A grain of that in a cup of tea two hours before you-knowwhat and afterwards either you'll be pleased with Arafa or you can chase him away with your curses.
They all craned their necks with a new eagerness. Even
Fisticuff cou ld not hide his interest, but he asked with feigned
contempt:
- Is that your magic?
- I also have precious incenses and wonderful medicines
and potions and amulets. My real power is seen when people
are sick or infertile or feeling weak.
Fisticuff said threateni ngly:
- Well, well! We look forward to getting your protection
money.
Arafa was alarmed but his face grew sti ll merrier as he said:
- All I possess is at your disposal, sir.
The strongman laughed suddenly and said:
- But you haven't told us who your father was.
He answered good-humoredly:
- Perhaps you know better than I do !
They rocked wi th laughter, and there were plenty of sarcastic com ments. When Arafa got away from the smoke-filled cafe he said to himself: 'Nobody knows who his own father was, and
nor do you, Fisticuff. Sons of bitches! '
Arafa and 1-Ianash went over the basement happily. He said:
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Children of Gebelaawi
- Bigger than I expected; very suitable, Hanash. This will
do as the consulting room, and we can live i n the room at the
back. The other one wi ll be the workshop.
Hanash asked anxiously:
- Which room do you think the woman was burned to
death in?
Arafa's hearty laughter echoed round the empty rooms. He
asked:
- Are you afraid of spirits , Hanash? We' ll work with them,
as Gebel worked with snakes. (He looked round happily. ) We
have only one window, in the room next to the Alley; we shall
look up at the road between iron bars. This tomb has one
excellent feature, it can't be robbed.
- It might be broken into.
- It mighL (Then, wi th a sigh:) Everythi ng I do is for
people's good, bu t all my life I 've met with nothing but i nsu lts.
- Success will make up for all the harm that's been done to
you - or to your poor mother.
9 4 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In his spare time Arafa used to enjoy sitting on an old sofa
and watching what went on i n the Alley through the basement
window, his head resting against the bars. His eye was at
ground level and he could see the passing of feet and barrows,
of dogs and cats, of i nsects and urchins. But he could not see
people's heads and shoulders except by crouching down and
craning his neck. A naked urchin stopped i n front of him,
playingwith a dead mouse. A blind old man passed carrying in
his left hand a tray of fly-covered beans, melon seeds and
sweets, and leani ng with his right hand on a thick walking stick.
From another basement window came the snarls of two men
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A raJa
quarrelli ng ti ll they drew blood. Arafa smi led at the naked
child and asked gently:
- What's your name, clever boy?
- Oona.
- You mean Hasoona. Do you like that dead mouse,
Hasoona?
The urchin threw it at him. But for the bar it would have hit
him in the face. The boy scuttled away. Arafa turned to Hanash
who was dozing at his feet.
- In every i nch of this Alley you see the marks of the
strongmen, bu t you find no sign of people like Gebel or Rifaa
or Qaasim.
1-lanash yawned as he said:
- All we see is men like Saadallah, Fisticuff, Yoosuf and
1-larpstrings, and all we hear about is Gebel, Rifaa and Qaasim.
- But they did exist, didn't they?
1-Ianash pointed at the stone floor with his finger.
- Our tenement-house is Rifaai te. The people in it are all
followers of Rifaa, and the bard tells every night how he lived
and died for the sake of love and happiness; and yet the first
thing we hear every morning is their quarrels and curses.
That's what they're like, the women as well as the men.
Arafa grimaced.
- But they did exist, didn't they?
- Insults are the least of what happens i n Rifaa's sector.
Those fights ! God help us! Only yesterday a man lost an eye.
Arafa stood up angri ly.
-What an alley! God rest your soul, Mother! Look at us, for
example; everybody uses us and nobody respects us.
- They don't respect anybody.
Arafa ground his teeth.
- Except the strongmen !
1-Ianash said wi th a laugh:
- At least you 're the only person i n the Alley who has
dealings with everybody, Gebelites and Rifaaites and Qaasimites.
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- Damn them all! ( He was silent for a while, his eyes
flashing i n the gloom of the basement, then wen t on:) They all
boast stupidly about their own man, though all that's left is the
name, and they never try to go one step beyond lying boasts.
Cowards! Sons of bitches!
His first client was a Rifaaite woman who came to him
during his first week in his new home and asked i n a low voice:
- How can a woman be got rid of without anybody knowi ng?
H e looked at her i n alarm and astonishment and said:
- That's not my job, madam. If you want medicine for body
or mind, I'm at your service.
She was i ncredulous.
- Aren't you a magician then?
- Yes, for things that do good to people. A5 for killing, there
are other people for that.
- You're afraid, perhaps? Bu t we'll be two conspirators with
a single secret.
He said with gentle irony:
- Rifaa wasn' t like that.
She exclaimed:
- Rifaa! Lord have mercy on him! We're in an alley where
mercy is no use; otherwise, Rifaa h imself wouldn 't have died.
To his relief she left in disgust. Rifaa himself, the best of
men, had not been safe here, so how could any one hope for
safety ifhe started work with a crime? And his mother! How she
had suffered, without having harmed anyone! No, he must be
on the best terms with everyone, as befitted any sensible
tradesman. He took to visiting all the cafes, always fi nding a
client he knew. He listened to the bards' tales i n the various
sectors till they were all mixed up in his head.
His first client from Qaasim's sector was an old man who
whispered to him with a grin:
-We've heard of the present you gave Fisticuff, the Rifaaite