Mohamed Choukri - For Bread Alone

When we got up to the road, the two drivers were there, one standing beside each car. They helped us pile the boxes into the back seat of the first car. Kandoussi got into the front of that car and Qaabil got in with us. We went ahead of Kandoussi, whose car followed always at the same distance, about a hundred metres behind. We drove so slowly that I decided this must have been arranged beforehand, perhaps as a way of protecting the merchandise. I doubt that any of the cargadores knew exactly where we were going. During the entire ride no one spoke a word. From time to time the cargador sitting to the right of me coughed and sniffed violently. We took the road past the animal cemetery by the river at Boubana. When we got to the crossroads by the Spanish Cemetery both cars stopped, and Qaabil got out. The driver of the other car came over.

Qaabil spoke to our driver. Take them wherever they want to go.

He handed me the key. Go to the shack, and don’t open up for anybody but el Kebdani.

The other driver got in and sat in Qaabil’s seat. Then we drove down the road towards Dradeb, leaving the other car still parked. The operation had certainly been very carefully planned. I was sure now that Kandoussi and Qaabil trusted absolutely no one. After our car is gone they’re going somewhere that only the two of them know about, to unload the stuff. Qaabil must have another key, otherwise he would have said something about my letting him in. He may work all night and not come back before morning.

We got to the hill at Dradeb. The driver smelled even more strongly of wine now than he had before. Where do you want to go, brothers? he asked.

Two of the cargadores wanted to be left in the Zoco de Fuera. I asked him to take me to the Place de la Casbah.

I know where to take you, he told me.

The one who had been coughing beside me also wanted to go to the Casbah. I looked at him, and he looked at me, but we said nothing.

The two cargadores got down in the Zoco de Fuera, as two policemen walked past. The car drove on through the arch of Bab el Fahs. The streets were empty. Another pair of policemen stood in front of an apartment house. My fear was that they might stop us and ask to see our papers. It was then that I realized how much colder the night was now than it had been earlier. We got out of the car in the Place de la Casbah, the last cargador and I, leaving the two drivers together.

I’m going down here towards Amrah, I said to the cargador . And you?

He coughed. I’m going down that way, too, to Oued el Ahardan. We passed under the arch and started down the hill. I did not dare bring up the subject of the work we had just done. After a silence he said: Is el Kebdani a friend of yours?

Yes.

He’s a good man. This is the first time you’ve worked like this?

Yes, it’s the first time.

And Qaabil, is he a friend of yours, too?

No, he’s a friend of el Kebdani’s. I met Qaabil through him. Are you a friend of Qaabil’s?

No, I only know Kandoussi. He’s a man with a lot of guts. And he’s serious. He knows what he’s doing. If he tells you he’s going to do something, he does it. All the cargadores want to work for him.

I feel the same way, I told him. I noticed how he treated us.

When we got part of the way down the hill, I stood still and pointed up the small street that led off to the left. I’m going up here to Qaabil’s shack, I said.

Yes, he said. So you live with Qaabil?

No. He just invited me to stay there. I haven’t got my own place to sleep yet. El Kebdani introduced me to him. I told you.

I know. See you.

B’slemah!

I heard only my own footsteps in the dark, silent street. Then there was a shrill scream from two cats nearby. One of them ran in front of me, the other pursuing it. He’s after her, I thought. But she wants to get away from him. I hoped Sallafa would not refuse me the delight of being with her at this early hour. To make love early in the morning before dawn! This will be the first time I shall have gone to bed with a woman at the hour of the fjer . A first experience.

I got to the shack, and stuck my ear to the door. Once again I heard the yelling of the cats, but from a distance. I slid the key carefully into the lock and opened the door.

There was a light in the bedroom. Is she still awake? I shut the door and turned the key, locking it. Then I gave the key an extra half-turn so that the door could not be unlocked from the outside. I tiptoed into the bedroom. A half bottle of wine sat on the taifor , and beside it the sebsi and the box of kif . She is lying on her right side with her knees drawn up. It’s sad to see a girl sleeping alone.

I went back into the sala and turned on the light. Two blankets and two pillows had been tossed onto the couch. Now I understood. A pillow and a blanket for me, and the same thing for el Kebdani. I took off my jacket and trousers, remaining in my underwear. There was a sound from the bedroom. When I went in to look, she had changed her position. She was still lying with her knees bent, but now she was facing in the other direction. I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my hand on her shoulder, hesitant to awaken her. It would be better to get into the bed behind her, and then run my hands over her until she wakes up and feels me there beside her. I climbed slowly into the bed.

Then she said very clearly: Your feet are like ice. Get them away from me.

What’s the matter? Are you angry with me?

She did not reply. My right hand began to touch her body here and there. It’s like an orchard, I thought. There are apples and oranges up here, and pears and peaches back here. And here between her thighs are persimmons. When my hand arrived there, she pushed it away with force.

Don’t touch me, she said. It’s the wrong time of the month. Go to sleep.

You mean you’ve got blood? I said incredulously.

Yes. Of course I have. What do you think?

I remembered Monique in her bathroom, sitting on the bidet, washing the blood from between her legs. So now Sallafa is the way Monique was.

I understand, I said. How long does it last?

Oh, at least three days.

So the hope of making love early in the morning is gone, I thought. I may have the chance again some time, and I may not. Who knows what will happen between us in the next few days? My sex is standing alone in the region of the peaches. When it tried to walk a little back and forth, she moved suddenly and lay on her back, saying: Haven’t you any shame at all? That’s something I won’t do with you.

Just a little walk, that’s all.

What are you talking about? she cried. Are you crazy, or what?

I’m going to follow this through to the end, I said to myself.

Why not? I asked her.

Because that’s something you don’t do with women. It’s a sin. Don’t you know that?

A sin?

Of course. A sin.

I lay on my back now, as she was doing, and looked at the place where the blanket pointed upward, where my sex stood alone. The pressure of the blanket hurt a little, and I arranged it so it would lie back on my belly. How to make it rest? It’s stubborn. This was the first time I had been made aware of how extremely stubborn it was. I took hold of her hand and held it for a moment. Then I brought the hand up and placed it on my sex. She said nothing. At the touch of her hand, the sex grew even more eager. I waited for her to play with it as she had done the first night. But her hand merely remained holding it tightly. When I placed my hand over hers and pushed it back and forth, she pulled away from me.

Leave me alone. Can’t you just go to sleep? Her voice was plaintive.