Naguib Mahfouz: The Thief and the Dogs

"Madame Nur! Madame Nur!" a woman's voice shouted.

Who was the woman and what could she want? He fetched his revolver from the other room. Now he heard a man's voice: "Well, maybe she's gone out."

"No," he heard the woman reply, "at this time of day she's home. And she's never been late with the rent before."

So it must be the landlady. The woman gave one last angry bang on the door and yelled: "Today's the fifth of the month and I'm not going to wait any longer!"

Then she and the man walked away, grumbling as they went.

Circumstances were after him now, as well as the police. The woman would certainly not wait long and would be sure to break into the flat by one means or the other. The best thing for him was to get out of the flat as soon as he possibly could.

But where was he to go?

Late in the afternoon and then again during the evening the landlady returned, "No, no, Madame Nur," she muttered as she finally left, "everything has to come to an end sometime, you know."

At midnight Said slipped out. Although his confidence in everything had gone, he was careful to walk very naturally and slowly, as if merely taking a stroll. More than once, when the thought struck him that people passing by or standing around might well be informers, he braced himself for one last desperate battle. After the encounter on the previous day, he had no doubts that the police would be in occupation of the whole area near Tarzan's café, so he moved off towards Jabal Road.

Hunger was tearing at his stomach now. On the road, it occurred to him that Sheikh Ali al-Junaydi's house might well provide a temporary place of refuge, while he thought out his next moves. It was only as he slipped into the courtyard of the silent house that he became aware that he had left his uniform in the sitting room of Nur's flat. With that realization infuriating him, Said went on into the old man's room, where the lamplight showed the Sheikh sitting in the corner reserved for prayer, completely engrossed in a whispered monologue.

Said walked over to the wall where he'd left his books and sat down, exhausted.

The Sheikh continued his quiet utterance until Said addressed him: "Good evening then, Sheikh Ali."

The old man raised his hand to his head in response to the greeting, but did not break off his incantations.

"Sheikh, I'm really hungry." Said said.

The old man seemed to interrupt his chant, gazed at him vacantly, then nodded with his chin to a side table nearby where Said saw some bread and figs. He got up at once, went to the table, and consumed it all ravenously, then stood there looking at the Sheikh with unappeased eyes.

"Don't you have any money?" the Sheikh said quietly.

"Oh, yes."

"Why not go and buy yourself something to eat?"

Said then made his way quietly back to his seat. The Sheikh sat contemplating him for a while, then said, "When are you going to settle down, do you think?"

"Not on the face of this earth."

"That's why you're hungry, even though you've got money."

"So be it, then."

"As for me," the Sheikh commented, "I was just reciting some verses about life's sorrows. I was reciting in a joyful frame of mind."

"Yes. Well, you're certainly a happy Sheikh," Said said. "The scoundrels have got away," he went on angrily. "How can I settle down after that?"

"How many of them are there?"

"Three."

"What joy for the world if its scoundrels number only three."

"No, there are very many more, but my enemies are only three."

"Well then, no one has "got away"."

"I'm not responsible for the world, you know."

"Oh yes. You're responsible for both this world and the next!" While Said puffed in exasperation, the Sheikh continued, "Patience is holy and through it things are blessed."

"But it's the guilty who succeed, while the innocent fail," Said commented glumly.

The Sheikh sighed, "When shall we succeed in achieving peace of mind beneath the doings of authority?"

"When authority becomes fair," Said replied.

"It is always fair."

Said shook his head angrily. "Yes," he muttered. "They've got away now all right, damn it." The Sheikh merely smiled without speaking. Said's voice changed its tone as he tried to alter the course of the conversation. "I'm going to sleep with my face towards the wall. I don't want any one who visits you to see me.

I'm going to hide out here with you. Please protect me."

"Trusting God means entrusting one's lodging to God alone," the Sheikh said gently.

"Would you give me up?"

"Oh, no, God forbid."

"Would it be in your power, with all the grace with which you're endowed, to save me then?"

"You can save yourself, if you wish," came the Sheikh's reply.

"I will kill the others," Said whispered to himself, and aloud said, "Are you capable of straightening the shadow of something crooked?"

"I do not concern myself with shadows," the Sheikh replied softly.

Silence followed and light from the moon streamed more strongly through the window onto the ceiling. In a whisper the Sheikh began reciting a mystic chant: "All beauty in creation stems from Y."

Yes, Said told himself quietly, the Sheikh will always find something appropriate to say. But this house of yours, dear sir, is not secure, though you yourself might be security personified. I've got to get away, no matter what the cost. And as for you, Nur, let's hope at least good luck will protect you, if you find neither justice nor mercy. But how did I forget that uniform? I wrapped it up deliberately intending to take it with me. How could I have forgotten it at the last moment? I've lost my touch. From all this sleeplessness, loneliness, dark and worry. They'll find that uniform. It might supply the first thread leading to you: they'll have dogs smelling it, fanning out in all directions to the very ends of the earth, sniffing and barking to complete a drama that will titillate newspaper readers.

Suddenly the Sheikh spoke again in a melancholy tone of voice: "I asked you to raise up your face to the heavens, yet here you are announcing that you are going to turn it to the wall!"

"But don't you remember what I told you about the scoundrels?" Said demanded, gazing at him sadly.

"Remember the name of your Lord, if you forget"."

Said lowered his gaze, feeling troubled, then wondered again how he could have forgotten the uniform as depression gripped him further.

"He was asked: " the Sheikh said suddenly, as if addressing someone else, "

"Do you know of any incantation we can recite or potion we can use that might perhaps nullify a decree of God?"' And he answered: "Such would be a decree of God!"

"What do you mean?" Said asked.

"Your father was never one to fail to understand my words," replied the old man, sighing sadly.

"Well," Said said irritably, "it is regrettable that I didn't find sufficient food in your home, just as it is unfortunate that I forgot the uniform. Also my mind does fail to comprehend you and I will turn my face to the wall. But I'm confident that I'm in the right."

Smiling sadly, the Sheikh said, "My Master stated: "I gaze in the mirror many times each day fearing that my face might have turned black!"

"You?!"

"No, my Master himself."

"How," Said asked scornfully, "could the scoundrels keep checking in the mirror every hour?"

The Sheikh bowed his head, reciting: "All beauty in creation stems from Y."

Said closed his eyes, saying to himself: "I'm really tired, but I'll have no peace until I get that uniform back."

At last exhaustion conquered his will. He forgot his determination to get the uniform and fell asleep, awaking a little before midday. Knowing he would have to wait until nightfall to move, he spent the time setting out a plan for his escape, fully aware that any major step would have to be put off for a while, until the police relaxed their surveillance of the area near Tarzan's café.