Michael Pearce - The Bride Box

As Mahmoud was wandering around he met someone he knew.

‘Ya Idris!’

‘Ya Mahmoud!’

They embraced joyfully.

When they had last seen each other, it had been at a political meeting in Cairo.

‘What brings you here?’

‘Work!’

‘Oh, yes?’ said Mahmoud sceptically. Idris had been a fellow student, and work had not been one of his strong points.

‘No, really! These days I am into trocchee shells.’

‘Trocchee shells! I never saw you as a trader!’

‘I am not, really. I am hanging around with a trader in the hope that some of it will rub off on me!’

‘But, Idris, down here? I thought you never went out of Cairo!’

‘I don’t normally. And from what I have seen of Upper Egypt, it is a policy I shall stick to in future.’ He looked around mock-furtively. ‘But don’t let anyone know that I have said that! The lot I am with now are all for unity.’

‘With Upper Egypt?’

‘It gets worse: with the Sudan, too!’

‘Idris, this doesn’t sound like you!’

‘I know. I have changed. The country has changed, too. Did you know that?’

‘I must confess I hadn’t spotted it.’

‘Oh, yes. We’re all for unity now. At least half of us are. The other half wants to go it alone. “Egypt for the Egyptians!” they say.’

‘Well, we’ve always said that. No British, no Pashas-’

‘You’re thinking too narrowly, Mahmoud. What is needed is a wider unity, a unity of the Nile valley. We need to work together with our suffering brothers in the Sudan.’

‘Idris, you know you can’t bear to go out of Cairo …’

‘I shall direct operations from home. Think of this foray down the Nile as an aberration. Not to be repeated.’

‘You said “direct”, Idris.’

‘Direct, in a manner of speaking. At the moment I merely file the papers. But I shall certainly rise.’

‘But, Idris, what brings you down here? This is a long way to go to file papers!’

‘A foolish person has said that I will do the job better if I know what the papers are about.’

‘And you come down here for enlightenment? Idris, are you sure you understood what they said? And, anyway, do you need to understand papers in order to file them? What,’ Mahmoud said, ‘are the papers about? What could they be about if you have to come to a place like this to find out?’

‘I am not sure I should tell you, Mahmoud, you being the hireling of the Pashas that you are.’

‘Look, Idris, no one down here can read or write. That rather restricts the significance of any papers that you might find to file.’

‘Mahmoud,’ said Idris, with dignity, ‘my work is not with the fellahin, whom both you and I know to be backward and so mired in ignorance that if they rise it can only be if you and I do their thinking for them.’

‘Who is it with, then?’

‘As I told you, I am now a promising young member of the trading community. They trade, Mahmoud; and someone has to keep track of their tradings in case they lose track.’

‘Filing the papers, you mean? But, Idris, people who trade in the desert …’

‘Yes, but they don’t trade with the people in the desert. They trade with people outside the desert. They are the only ones who can pay for what they trade in.’

‘You know, Idris, I think I am beginning to get an inkling of how you feel: this sort of thing can surely be better handled from Cairo.’

‘My feelings exactly, Mahmoud.’

‘But I still don’t see how trading in trocchee shells is going to advance the cause of the great revolution — or, if you prefer, the wider cause of the unity of the Nile valley.’

‘Money, dear boy, money. Funds have to be raised, and if they are, they have to be kept track of.’

‘Ye-es. But, Idris, if they have to rely on people like you to keep track, is this the position of strength that we all hope for?’

There were camels everywhere on the midan, and yet new lines of camels kept drifting in. The newcomers found it even more difficult to get a space and there were endless disputes. The camels bit and fought. Big ones shouldered smaller ones aside, butted and snarled. The drivers waded in with whips to restore order. Eventually it was restored, and the camels were hobbled and settled down. This didn’t usually happen until they had been watered and forage brought. The forage, usually green clover, was spread on the ground in front of them. Then they set to at once. As they chewed, a green dribble ran out of the sides of their mouths and soon the whole midan was covered with a green mess. It was like one continuous green cowpat.

Mahmoud picked his steps fastidiously. It was probably wise to do that anyway. You needed to give camels a wide berth. When they were standing they would sometimes lash out with a foot which had enough force to break your leg. They were unruly, surly, savage beasts; not at all like cows.

Gradually he began to make sense of the melee in the square. Incoming loads were deposited on the station side. The sacks of gum arabic were piled alongside the railway line, ready for loading. Further back, waiting their turn, were the sacks of trocchee shells. Sometimes the sacks were torn and you would see the shells spilling out. They had a strong fishy smell.

Further back still, because they were of less importance, were bags of goods for the bazaars of the south, on their way to the shops of the Sudan. And here and there were little piles of private belongings, to be picked up when everything else was out of the way.

Everywhere, too, were the Levantine assistants of the traders, conspicuous among the galabeyas in their white shirts and European-style trousers, running from pile to pile, papers in hand, counting this pile, ticking off that.

The midan now surged with people and camels. Despite himself, Mahmoud was impressed. He had never anticipated a gathering of this scale in such an obscure part of the desert. Everywhere was hubbub and bustle.

As he threaded his way through the mass, he was surprised to see the Pasha’s lady’s son, Karim. He had never expected to see him so far from home.

He was wandering around with a dazed expression on his face, As Mahmoud watched him, he ran into someone he knew.

‘Ya Hassan!’

‘Ya Karim! Are you well?’

‘Well, thanks be to God! And you?’

‘Well also.’

‘Are you coming to see me?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘I am hoping that you would be bringing something for me.’

Hassan smiled. ‘Well, I was hoping you might be bringing something for me !’

‘It’s on the way. Tamuz is bringing it.’

‘More than one box, I hope?’

‘All those you left. Six donkeys.’

‘Six?’

‘Two boxes on each donkey and one over.’

‘Those boxes are heavy. It is a lot for a donkey to carry.’

‘You should have sent camels.’

Hassan shrugged. ‘They couldn’t be spared. However, as long as the boxes are here to go with the others …’

‘They will be here tomorrow, Tamuz says.’

‘God be praised!’

‘And is there anything for me?’

Hassan smiled and patted him familiarly on the shoulder. ‘There is a fine new gun. And I know it’s fine because I have seen it fired. It brought down a hawk. At two hundred paces!’

‘That was a good shot!’

‘It was I who fired it. But, yes, it was. And the gun is a good one. It is like some of those in the boxes. It has new sights on it. You won’t have seen them before, but they are astonishing. You will find a difference at once.’

‘Can I have it?’ asked Karim excitedly.

‘When the boxes get in.’

‘Not until then?’ said Karim, disappointed.

‘Not until then. But then at once. You will have the new gun with you when you go with Tamuz. I promise you!’