Transmission #22-5-16-19
Mohamed, Abdullah
One of the bridges to Zamalek Island, Cairo, Egypt
2100 hours, August 4th, 2023
----------------------------------------
The heavens have been covered by darkness, curtains down for the play of day,
the night overwhelms the streets with life and excitement, it’s Friday, everyone is going out,
everyone enjoying their days, counted, yet feel infinite.
The Nile, unlike what people see under our ancient star during the day, is as dark and deep as Ink, what makes you see it for the river it is are the locomotive movements of lights reflected on its surface, the ferry boats invading it, each with a distinct size and lights, but has the same groups of people, dancing and singing.
Above their crossing paths a huge and long bridge standing tall, for decades, it has harnessed the true spirit of Egyptian street life, celebratory and short-lived, long rows of plastic chairs overlook the river below and its usual travelers.
The chairs are shared, arranged, you don’t know who owns them, patrolling salesmen, their carts of popcorn, ice cream and chickpeas drinks, the latter was the most commonly enjoyed amongst the visitors, a tall cylindrical glass of this warm, red drink was carried by a man in his 30s, a blue shirt stripped with yellow and black lines- had nice contrast with his product, placed it on a small table in front of a young man, 19, he’s starting his first year of college soon, Medical school, he hopes.
He wakes up from his daydreaming to the slight clank sound of glass on a wet plastic table, he carefully-picks it up, the smell of spice nourishes his senses, a guilty pleasure of sorts, makes his eyes a bit teary, but it’s delightfully spicy, finally inserting the white and blue striped straw in his mouth, he likes to drink- first then scoop out the chickpeas with the complementary metallic spoon.
His eyes glance at the horizon once more, then to the billboards and neon lights from afar, how didn’t-he notice them at first, he wondered, large company names, some he never heard of before, red and green are the most common, tall, short, wide, and narrow buildings take positions on the shores of the river, unorganized, yet seem so much in correlation with each other, chaos was always an art form in Egypt.
He went back to peacefully sucking the elixir of the streets, to some that’s sugarcane juice, cool, green, and just like the name applies: sweet! But this was a bridge atop the Nile, and its nighttime, rules are changed.
To his surprise, he finished all of it, he was alerted by the infamous sound that comes out when you are sucking on the air inside a juice box, we all hate it, but Abdullah loved the chickpeas too, he always tried to see the other side of things, not the good side, just the other, in hopes that its better than what is shown to him at first glance.
More clanking noises from his glass, he fights the straw with the spoon to get as much chickpeas as possible, five! He pulls it out, three fall into the glass again, he ate up the two, and went for more, his venture is almost disturbed by the bypassing of another young man in a white shirt, with sleeves?!
Who the hell wears full sleeved clothing in August, in Egypt, some might consider you a little out of your mind for that unspoken rule breaking, the young man, shaved, and had a nice fragrance on, his shirt was split in half with a dark line in the front placket, the same idea was repeated in his sleeve placket, black trousers to pair, though you couldn’t make out whether they were jeans or linen.
He took a seat in front of Abdullah, his subtle movement and slow demeanor were weird, everyone was going all over the place, fast-paced, like yuppies back in the 80s, only that these children of capitalism were doing something useful, even if it was for themselves, every second to them was money, to the locals here however, a constant loop of randomness and desperation.
The shirt wearing young man looks to his left, stretching back a bit, then back to the front, looks over Abdullah’s shoulder.
“Faisal has gone dark” The young man whispered, hunching his back close to Abdullah, both of his palms are joined, an obvious sign of stress.
Abdullah looked at him in disbelief, and the young man continued:
“The board considered burying the operation.”
“Did you check Suleiman?”
“And John and Ahmed, It’s been half an hour now, nothing”
“What are you gonna do?”
He hunches a bit closer and reaches for something in his trousers’ back pocket, it’s a paper that was condensed for a while, opening it beneath him and says:
“I say that we do cancel it, turns out they knew all along, they are most likely expecting reinforcements by now.”
He could hear loud harmonized clapping noises from a ferry boat crossing under the bridge, the festival music was blowing through the speakers, earlier he didn’t notice, it was part of the ambiance now it’s haunting him, Abdullah’s mind was going all over at this point.
“Hey”
The young man brought Abdullah’s eyes up to him, he held the paper wide open, the paper he held with his two indexes and thumbs said:
I AM CALLING TEAM NAGUIB
HE CAN SEE AND HEAR US HERE
DO AS I SAY
Abdullah’s shock was immediately stopped by an intense glare from the young man, telling him to refer to the third sentence and remain calm as nothing happened.
Abdullah came back to his senses, looking at the paper like an idiot, the words were large and clear, written in an almost scrambled way, the second line falling off and the spaces were inconsistent, then again he must have written it in a hurry.
“Come on, Abduh”
“huh? Wha-” he stopped midsentence and continued on without flinching, his façade of calmness is obvious.
“Hey kid!” the salesman by the chickpeas cart yelled at him, Abdullah remembered he hadn’t finished it yet, the young man holds his arm making a head signal upfront, a “we need to go”.
Before the salesman could continue, the young man handed him twenty pounds and left with Abdullah.
“I had money on me”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“And I had some in my hand”
Abdullah Scoffed and said: “we are not the same”
A giggle escaped the young man’s lips
“seriously though, I’ll pay you back”
“Abdullah, don’t start this”
“No really, Its not about the money, I don’t like dealing with these people”
“well you’ll have to get used to it, when you work Inshallah you’ll get to see all kinds of people”
“right...”
The young man saw an old couple, walking by them, you can swear they had grandchildren as old as Abdullah, yet you can see that they are reliving a memory, the old woman was bubbly and laughing while the husband was shaking a bit, a closer look will make you realize he was laughing too, his body was just as fragile as a straw.
“How’s Safwa by the way?”
Abdullah showed a small annoyance
“What?”
“Nothing she’s fine, why don’t you ask her yourself? You made a group for the family.”
“What she says is something, what she actually is can be another.”
“So you don’t trust her?”
“I do, but I am still a stranger to her.”
“She’s alright, she’s just being pouty as usual.”
“Why?”
“We didn’t go to the beach, and my old man promised her to go there after this year.”
“I don’t get the point of the beach anyway, everyone is always saying we should hurry! Hurry to what!”
“Basil, you don’t understand what fun is, good luck, she loves going out a lot.”
“I can manage that.”
“And I mean actually going out, I mean restaurants, festivals, more restaurants, shopping.”
“Oh God I hate it, remember when we went there with your parents?”
Abdullah laughed in mockery.
“Five hours! FIVE!”
pushing his hands with his fingers open, Abdullah still laughing
“Thank god she was not in the mood that day, we would’ve camped there.”
Basil released a sigh of relief that such a pain is now a memory.
Before he knew, Abdullah walked with Basil all the way to the other side of the bridge, looking back
in confusion, all these cars beeping and carts going back and forth, patrolling salesman, all that went back in the few minutes they talked.
“Look…see that building, go left and you’ll find the shop I work in on day shift.”
“See? Why do you do this job if you already have this?! And Its in the day!”
“Well it’s not MY fault your sister wants four hundred towels!”
“Well It’s not MY fault that Nera got 300! And no way in hell that the towels are your problem!”
”Of course not! I am just laying an example! Your sister’s obscene demands! Six silverware collections! If I was going to war, I wouldn’t need all that!” He released a laugh of confusion.
“Well if money’s your problem, why not just cut the engagement?!”
“I am not cutting it! And this is non of your business!”
“You’re the one who mentioned the towels and she’s my sister!”
“I was JOKING!”
“Well, you’re pretty fuckin’ awful at that!”
“Oh and why did you come to join me? The money of course!”
“Money?! I don’t even get paid to do this shit I am a trainee!”
Basil and Abdullah crossed the street and took the side of an apartment complex’ entrance.
“But you did get in! and you did sign the papers, and eventually you’ll get paid.”
“For a few dollars? risking my life for a few dollars?”
“Seems like so.”
“When we took down a short guy with a stick! Alright, but it escalated now, I didn’t know we would be facing this shit!!”
“He was not short, he was a dwarf, I thought his nose and ears made it clear he wasn’t human, also-”
“Don’t tell me-”
“Also his *stick* was a curse object, and he would’ve sold it to some magician if it wasn’t for us!
AND I gave you 34 dollars from MY payment!”
“That is a few!”
“Is six hundred and forty something pounds a few to you?”
Abdullah looked at the other sidewalk of the street in arrogance, both of them sighed and inhaled..
“Abdullah, listen, I am sorry alright….I am sorry, this year was hectic for all of us…you saw what happened all over the country, the flood, explosions, attacks, yet you lived! You lived through it all, and took the pressure, the exams, lessons, your parents, all of it!”
Abdullah nodded his head in accordance, accepting his words despite their fallout earlier.
“Abduh you faced things I didn’t even imagine you’d, but you did! Many of you kids broke down, and I am telling you! The percentage of success will be lower than any other year! I am proud of you! OK I am proud of you!”
Abdullah placed his arms on his waist and looked at the street…
Took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as he looked at the large neon red billboard all the way on the other side of the Corniche.
“Then what now?”
“Now let’s go get some ice cream!”
“Wai-Look I get your pity, but no need for-”
“No really you deserve that I invite you for some,"
“I am just gonna take a microbus back home,”
“Are you seriously telling me you want to go all the way there by yourself?”
“I am not a damsel in distress, I can go back,”
“This IS your first time coming here, you don’t know the roads, Abduh.”
“Nah I’ll take a microbus to the plaza and then-”
Basil held the paper he showed Abdullah not long ago in his left palm while looking at him..
Abdullah knew he was going for the wrong direction, he’ll get it if he leaves the area, at least
for the time being, the open sky felt like a large dome-sized cage and the fresh wind levitating along the Nile’s surroundings became a deadly gas, suffocating his soul..
“Let’s get some ice cream, it’s on me,”
“Oh yeah, sure,”
They both took a walk along the pavement, they cross an old building, much shorter and humbler than all the proud and tall monsters inhabiting the area.
Turns out from the almost unreadable sign with it’s Ottoman font next to the rusty gates that it’s an old villa, the outgrowing trees give all by-passers a head pat, Basil and Abdullah weren’t cat girls, so they casually crouched and walked towards their objective.
They come across a tall apartment complex, the kind which it’s windows make you question how the people inside can see through.
Basil observed the building for a moment then said while still looking:
“You know? This is where Umar Al-Deeb used to live at first,”
“After he became famous?”
“Nah, before he graduated from high school,”
“…”
“Yup, he’s one lucky fella, I bet he got in the industry from a friend of his family,”
“Recommendation…*Tsk*…imagine..”
“you want to be a singer, Abduh?” Basil said in slight mockery.
“No, no thank you”
“Gonna get atop a stage and sing: you’re my only desire?~ Haha!”
“Man, shut up!”
They both crossed the complex and it’s side luxurious entrance to the dark street separating it from a yet another apartment complex, just a lot less pretentious
“See? this is my work” Basil pointing at the pastry on the other side of the apartment building.
“The ice cream shop should be close”
“How close…?”
“Tired of walking?”
“Wearing jeans for too long bothers me.”
“I can relate, that’s why linen pants are superior!”
Basil pulls his pants up a bit, adjusting it on his waist despite them fitting just fine.
Abdullah sees laundry….on the first floor? What surprised him is that the window was literally at his head’s length.
“That must be the gate man’s house, his wife needs to get it though, it looks dry all right”
Finally they can see the ice cream place, right next to the not-so-luxurious entrance of the building.
“See? It’s the gate man’s house” pointing at the wooden door next to the stairs, the place had a green and black palette, looking like a hospital reception from a horror movie.
“Here we are!”
It was quite small compared to what Abdullah had in mind, but the ice cream certainly looked good, in front of them were all colors of delight and sweetness behind a glass barrier, all arranged in rectangular containers, the light green one caught his eye first, it was lime.
“Alright what do you want?”
“Ah-oh right, I’ll take-”
Abdullah looked closely at the small cards on the glass.
Chocolate, strawberry, mint, mango....Hazelnut!!
“I’ll have hazelnut, do they have cones?”
Abdullah wondered, he only saw long piles of ice cream cups, all with colorful balloons drawn on a white background.
“You mean biscuit? Why not cups?”
“So no cones?”
“I don’t know”
“You knew the place”
“I know there’s an ice cream place next to my work, not if they give you biscuit or not”
“What is biscuit?”
“Oh, it’s basically cone, but they say biscuit instead”
Basil went to the window.
“Assalamualaikum, one chocolate with vanilla and one hazelnut, please”
A man wearing a white apron with a striped cap to match turned from the counter and replied:
“Cups or cones?”
“Oh! You have- Yes please, I’ll take one cup and one cone in order, please”
The man picked up a small and shiny scooper, leaned in to the ice cream containers, taking long spirals of the specified flavors, they weren’t perfect, he had to get them more than once to make a sizable amount.
He handed one cup with white and dark brown mounds of deliciousness to Basil, then a light brown scoop on a cone, Basil pulled out a twenty, then paired it with ten pounds, then handed it to the man, the man gave him three coins.
Basil handed Abdullah his cone, and starting digging in with the miniature plastic spoon, almost looking like a shovel, how convenient!
They looked left, a lot of park plastic chairs, with yellow street light giving them a great color, an old man eating what seems to be mint from his cup, a little boy seemed to be his grandson was covering his face and hands with chocolate from his cone.
A woman in her 40s with two kids, the woman and the youngest child ate from cups while the eldest enjoyed peanut butter scoops from again a cone.
“What do you think?”
“Its really good!”
Basil smiled at Abdullah’s indulgence in his sweet treat, then looked at his watch.
“Lets finish this and go home, what do you say?”
“What’s the time?”
“Nine thirty five”
“Right…right…let’s go”
“At least finish your ice cream before it melts”
“Yeah yeah”
Basil walks slowly a bit from Abdullah , he opens his phone with his fingerprint, and presses on its screen without looking, then raising it to his ear.
A message from a woman, saying he used up all the credit and can get a service, three minutes for 60 piasters, blah blah....then an irritating beep…
“Dr. Alaa Naguib?” A voice came from the phone.
“No sorry, wrong number”
The call ends immediately, Basil puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back to Abdullah.
“What was it?”
“Nothing, just a wrong number”
----------------------------------------