Adrift on the Nile

"I had them yesterday, during the evening."

"What are they?"

"A notebook for my work--and a small amount of money."

"Are you sure that you lost them here?"

"I'm not sure of anything."

"Amm Abduh sweeps up, and the man comes to take away the trash in the morning."

She sat down in an armchair. "If they were stolen," she said, "why didn't the thief take the whole bag? Why did he take the notebook and leave the purse?"

"Perhaps you dropped it."

"Anything's possible . . ."

"Can it not be replaced?"

Before she could reply, the houseboat shook again, and voices were heard outside. Hastily, she begged him to forget the matter, telling him not to mention it again as she went to take her place on the mattress. All the friends came in together, and soon the party was complete. Anis devoted himself earnestly and avidly to the water pipe; he was in an unfamiliar state of alertness. Deep inside him, the demons began to incite him to malice. He shot a cunning glance at Samara.

Mustafa was speaking to her. "It's all clear now. You come early to be alone with Anis!"

She played along. "Didn't you realize? He is my knight in shining armor!"

"We're only boys," commented Ahmad, "while he is a mature man in his forties."

Without being summoned, Amm Abduh appeared at the screened door. "A houseboat has sunk at Imbaba," he announced.

They turned toward him in concern. "Did anybody drown?" Ahmad asked.

"No--but they lost the entire contents of the boat."

"That's what we care about, the contents," said Khalid, "not the individuals!"

"And the rescue police came," continued Amm Abduh.

"The arts police should have come as well."

"Why did it sink?" asked Layla.

"The watchman was negligent," replied the old man.

"Or perhaps," added Khalid, "because the Almighty was angry about what went on inside."

They said amen to that, and turned again to the water pipe. When Amm Abduh had gone, Ali said: "One night I had a dream that I had become as tall and broad as Amm Abduh."

Anis broke his customary silence. "That's because you take refuge in dreams and addiction," he said.

They met his comment with laughter. "But taking refuge from what, O master of pleasures?" asked Ali.

"From your own emptiness!" replied Anis, and when the laughter had died down, he continued: "You are all modern-day scoundrels, escaping into addiction and groundless delusions. . . ." And he turned and looked at Samara. The demons cackled inside him. A barrage of comments followed.

"At last he has spoken."

"A philosopher is born!"

All eyes were still turned on Anis. "And what about me?" Mustafa asked him.

"Escaping into addiction and the Absolute, you are hounded by the sense of your own worthlessness."

He could make out Samara's laughter among the roars of mirth, but avoided looking at her. He imagined her turmoil; he imagined her face; he imagined her innermost feelings--and then he continued: "We are all scum, we have no morals; we are pursued by a fearful demon by the name of Responsibility. . . ."

"This night," said Ragab, "will go down in the annals of the houseboat."

Mustafa spoke again. "I bet tonight's kif has been smuggled from Moscow!"

"Anis! O philosopher!" It was Khalid's turn. "What about me--and Layla?"

"You are a depraved degenerate because you have no belief; or perhaps it's that you have no belief because you are depraved. As for Layla, she is a pioneer, but only in dissipation and addiction, not a martyour as she mistakenly believes."

"Hold your tongue!" shouted Layla.

But he merely pointed to Saniya, saying: "And you are a bigamist, you dope fiend!"

"You're mad!" screamed Saniya.

"No. Merely half mad. And also half dead."

"How dare you be so rude!"

Ali soothed her. "Now you are really angry, Saniya. He is the master of ceremonies, remember . . ."

"I will not be mocked in front of strangers!" she retorted.

The thunderous atmosphere threatened to overwhelm the merriment. Ragab, however, spoke firmly. "There are no strangers here. Samara is with us all the way."

"She may be with us, but only _all the way_ with you!"

"No," said Anis. "She doesn't care about a man who flees from his own emptiness into addiction and sex."

"What a night we're having, boys!" cried Ragab gaily.

"Who would have thought that you were Anis the Silent?"

"Perhaps he's regurgitating one of his books--the decline of civilization, for example."

And there is still a bomb inside me--I'm saving it for the Director General. Let the laughter bursting inside me calm down, so that I can see things clearly. Have the mooring chains of the boat parted? The full moon charges at the fragile door of our balcony. As for the midges, I understand at last their fatal fascination with the lamplight.

"You don't seem very happy," Ragab remarked to Samara.

She spoke without looking at Saniya, but her listless tone made it clear whom she meant. "That is how strangers are, in company," she said.

"No, I won't have it," Ragab said. "Saniya is a lovely woman--a kindly mother even when she's in love . . ."