Zahraliza by Abdelouahid stitou - HTML preview

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13

A smile for sale… the smile of the air hostess seemed to him when she welcomed him coldly at the boarding door. How much was her smile, he wondered? The problem was that she mummified her smile on her lips to the degree it seemed like a grin.

She sold her smile as he sold his stories. Everybody sell what they own these days. Everything can be sold whether they are innovations, smiles, bodies…

The truth was that Khaled did not do any effort to smile back because he was still drawing a smile that persisted on his face till he sat down in his seat in the plane.

Mahdi and Munir continued cracking jokes with Khaled till the last hug. Munir was saying,

Don’t you feel ashamed for smuggling Maruja chocolate?
Ask this question to Muadh. He’s the one who needs to feel ashamed. He asked me to bring him this kind of chocolate that is usually smuggled from Ceuta to Tangier. I can’t understand how a person who spent long years in Span before migrating to Belgium because of the crisis still yearns for smuggled chocolate!
The truth is that its taste is superior. Only a Tangierian would know that.
This’s true.
The problem is that it looks exactly like cannabis packs. The security officer thought he caught a huge trophy.
Well… make it sound a big deal, you two retarded people! I think I’ll find you still talking about it as if it just happened when I come back.
You bet!

Khaled turned his head to face the window in an attempt to avoid the noise of the passengers. There were a lot of trampling, spitting, and some friendly scuffles to complete the scene.

The plane took off at last after everybody carried out their travelling duties.

Travelling is an experience from hell being it on a plane, on a shuttle or on the instant means of disapparition and apparition.

Travelling is travelling…a matter of anxiety…stomach disorder…forgetting the passport or travelling ticket…and above all a piece of chocolate in the bag that looked like a pack of cannabis would make the whole process much more cheerful.

He was listening to the Hajji Srifi, the singer of the mountains, with his headset. They were mountain genre songs that increased the agony of departure.

«My beloved you are, Tangier,

Whenever I see you, I feel relieved…yes my beloved has indeed come, too…

My beloved you are, Tangier»

Tangier was waving him goodbye and in her eyes looks of missing, gentle reproof, and enquiry,

Will you return, Mr. lover?
Not until I know that you return my love.
My love to you is the same as yours…
How is that?
My lovers are many, so you need to content yourself with loving the love you love me.
You’re maneuvering, Tangier
Can anything except for pain make love beautiful?
I’m not masochistic to tell me that…
How do you know?
I know myself, and what I know more is that I love you without any conditions…my love to you isn’t a matter of playing a specific role…it isn’t fabricated. My love to you is a firm reality, and I have nothing to do with that…therefore, I surrender each time I converse with you…
Is there another woman?
Do you feel jealous?
Not exactly. I know that my place in your heart is reserved, and no other woman can compete with me there…it’s true she might be my neighbor, but she won’t compete with me.
You’re right, my Tangier.
Take care of yourself.
I love you
…………

His eyes bathed in tears… the lights of Tangier were fading away gradually.

Whenever he traveled, he felt she was really sad. Her mountains, sea, air, … definitely all of them are burdened with a sweet sadness… a sadness promising of a coming reunion.

When he got off the plane, she felt the freezing cold searing his face. He was lucky he prepared himself putting on a heap of clothes. Huda was standing there in the lobby area of Charleroi airport. She was wearing winter clothes that made her more beautiful and glamourous. When she welcomed him warmly, he said to her,

The Antwerpian touch increased your beauty.
You’re flirting me? Had I known that Antwerp would make you more daring, I’d have invited you since day one.
You can invite me again as long as it isn’t the last day in this world.

She smiled while she was trying to help him put his luggage in the car trunk. He noticed that her car was similar to the one she rented in Tangier. It took almost an hour and a half to reach Antwerp. She asked him about his news and about any new thing with him. He told her about the incident in the airport.

Oh my God! Although everything went alright, if I were you, I’d have been terrified. I’m imagining my reaction had I been in your shoes.
I don’t think he’d have suspected your delicacy.
Don’t forget that some snakes are very beautiful. If you touch them, their bite kills you.
I forgot that. May God grant me more knowledge.

When they arrived in Antwerp, he noticed that it was really quiet. Khaled was fond of the European architectural system… the small contiguous buildings… corridors made of stones tightly pressed together. All streets, even side streets, were lit without any exception.

The quietness penetrates to the very heart.
It doesn’t really change even in the day except for the main streets.
Wonderful! Seven days here will be sufficient to finish writing novel here then!
You’re going to have a lot of free time for that.

He did not respond. He sensed some insult in her sentence. She is supposed to be with him in his free time instead of letting him write a novel!

He tried to overlook it when he looked up at the building near which they stopped. It was his favorite style with no more than four floors. The apartment was small, and it would take the inhabitants a short time to find it comfortable. Huda said to him,

This’s the key of the apartment. I took the permission of the head of the society to have the honor of driving you to here. The other speakers in the conference are living in the other apartments in the building. The symposium’s hall isn’t far away… it’s a five-minute walk from here. Tomorrow I’ll acquaint you with the map of the area. As for now, take some rest from the troubles of travelling. Good night.

She was talking as if she needed to finish what she said as fast I she could. Did she fear being with him in the same apartment? He knew well he was not an angel, but he wasnot a demon, either. It really confused him and almost stole his slumber had it not for the combination of travelling tiredness and the irresistible power of sleeping. His eyelids relaxed, and inside his mind a sound was asking,

What’s wrong, Huda?