26
- He survived, Muadh! He survived!
Muadh came from the kitchen rubbing his hands with a torn T-shirt he wrapped haphazardly around his waist to avoid unwanted water.
- How did you know that?
- A news website about Cadiz posted a detailed article on the incident.
- Would you summarize the article? My relationship with Spanish has never been cordial.
- Neither is mine, but our knowledgeable scholar, Google, did the translation task.
- May God Bless it. Tell me the gist.
- They’re saying that the cameras of the hospital recorded an unknown person putting an infant that was suffocating because of a candy that melted and oozed from a towel that was made as a pacifier. Few seconds separated him from death, but they managed to save his life at last.
- You’ve saved a life. It’s like saving the whole humanity.
- It’s actually you who did that twice. You travelled for three days between Brussels and Cadiz to pick up an illegal migrant whom you didn’t know whether he will survive or not. After that you were about to get involved in the issue of the infant with me. You would have lost everything if we had been caught.
- By the way you didn’t tell me. Did they make out your features? Did they refer to that?
- You’re still the man who hates praise. Alright. My attempt to hide my face and hand was apparently successful. They suspect that the one who did it was his father or at least one of his relatives. They didn’t find any difficulty of course to link the African woman who was found dead on the beach of Playa de Bolonia and the child incident. The report of the forensic doctor maintained that she actually died before the birth of the baby! Thanks God!
- Thanks God indeed. It’s really a strange incident, Khaled. If you narrate it to anybody, he’ll accuse you of dotage or craziness. Hadn’t I lived part of it with you, I’d have suspected your story, too.
- I know that you don’t compliment.
- True friends are those who are true to you; they aren't those who always consider what you say or do true. I’ll finish the washing up, and you’ll leave that device to have fun for a bit.
- Do you think it’s a good idea?
- It is. You’ll enjoy watching your friend who holds a BA degree in international law washing dishes in the restaurant.
- I can’t stand that.
There were a lot of Moroccans in Brussels. Brabant street reminded Khaled of Boulevard street in Tangier where hustle and bustle never stopped. Despite that one full day passed since he came, Khaled still could not believe he finally made it and manage to finish the first stage of his plan. He did not know whether it was the easiest part or the most difficult one. Only the coming days would prove it.
Brussels’Grand-Place was full of life. There were people and tourists from all nationalities. Some were performing their talents, some were walking, and others were sitting in cafés around the square. The sun of March was luring the Europeans in particular to take off half of their clothes. For them as they were used to cold weather, it was warm, whereas for him, who was used to warm weather, taking off clothes would mean catching cold.
They went through a series of roads surrounded by restaurants from either side. At last, Muadh entered one of the restaurants, and Khaled followed him.
- Wouldn’t the owner of the restaurant sack you as you’re making the restaurant a tourist destination for harik migrants?
- Peter cares for the Euros he’ll count by the end of the night. You can bring a unicorn, and he wouldn’t mind as long as you’re fully doing your job.
The situation inside the restaurant did not differ much. The workers in the kitchen came from all around the world looking for a job… for a hope…for a better life. They did not care a lot for Khaled until Muadh started introducing him. Khaled reflected that people in here were fed up with others. It seemed that all they needed was to be left to live on their own. The principle here was evident: ‘Live your life and let me live mine.’ Each person had his own way of life.
The workers in the restaurant belonged different nationalities. There was a Belgium student preparing pizza, a Bulgarian cleaner, and an Algerian cook, and they were cooperating well. One could feel that cold feelings prevailing the atmosphere despite exchanging some jokes and attempts to affect humor. These people so realistic that they became pragmatic. They cracked jokes and coexisted as long as it was good for them; however, once they left the place, no one of them would remember the other for more than a second or a second and a half.
A sound similar to the ring of a bell came from somewhere.
Muadh kicked the ground and started cursing many things and much more people.
- What’s that? Why are you so angry?
- The sound of that bell means that a new batch of dirty tableware was sent from below. Look at this beauty!
Muadh opened something similar to a metal windows revealing dirty, piled tableware.
- Shall I give you a hand?
- Nah... I’m used to that.
- So clear…
Muadh continued doing the washing as he was cursing the tableware and the restaurant. He was swearing at Carla who sent him the tableware and cursing the university, the international law, and everything about studying.
- Tel me for Lord’s sake. Why all the tiredness and fatigue if we will end up doing the dishes as any stupid person can do?
Khaled remained silent and did not answer.
He learned well that whatever you say to a person undergoing suffering is worthless. Keep your wisdom and insight in life to yourself because you will need to apply them one day when you find yourself in a similar situation, and most probably you will fail doing that. Therefore, the best thing is to zip your lips. A hand in the water is not like a hand in the fire.
Khaled was after all aware that Muadh was not waiting for an answer. He was taking it out in order not to explode. He would have directed his speech, most probably, to the tableware or anything near him.
- So, it’s Huda that’s behind all these misfortunes. I wonder how you didn’t tell me before.
- It wasn’t possible via the prison letters. As you know, they read them. I didn’t need to get her into trouble then, so I didn’t mention her at all.
- What are you going to do now?
- I have some plans in my mind, but I should never rush. I’ve exerted all this effort because I didn’t need to do a hasty, uncalculated movement that will disclose my plan, so they will run away or take precautions. I’ll then kick myself for the rest of my life. Those people carried out one of the best robberies I’ve seen in my whole life through applying the principle, ‘If you need to keep what you stole, convince the robbed that you gave him back his things’.
- The strange thing is that you’re maintaining the clarity of your mind despite everything you’ve been through.
- Hardships squeeze you, they ether produce useful oil, or waste that go with the wind. Imagine that I was planning to take revenge from Huda using the grossest means I could come up with; however, the birth of the African child on my hands terminated that wish completely. I’ve seen with how worthless life is, so I forsook revenge, but I didn’t abandon my wish to retrieve my Tangier. I mean the Zahrliza painting.
- How are you going to do that?
- I have two ways. The first is through finding Huda, and the second is through hacking into her email address which I knew through her mobile phone.
- You could have done the second way in Tangier without having to travel.
- Of course no. You know that email providers take precautions. Their security applications will detect I’m in another country, and they’ll try to verify my identity before giving me access to the email. No doubt I’ll fail to provide verification. Then they’ll send a warning email to Huda telling her that some person needs to sneak into her email. Further, they’ll specify my location accurately. I’ll get caught in the trap, whereas the application here won’t request anything as we’re accessing it from the same region. Even if it requests verification, I’m with one of the most professional email hackers in the world… you, Mr. Muadh.
- I don’t know if I’m still good at this nonsense.
- You were the best, and no doubt you’re still the best.
- I’m deeply flattered.
Muadh finished his shift. The visitors of the Grand-Place were gradually leaving as midnight drew closer. They were sauntering, and Khaled was watching the surroundings. Brussels didn’t seem really clean despite its evident European luster. Its night was beautiful and glamourous. All shops closed their doors, so it was not a sleepless city like Tangier. Muadh told him that there were specific places to stay up at night. Interested people would go there. He remembered that in Tangier people could stay all night up without any controls; people stay up all night everywhere and anytime without any uncontrolled unfortunately.
Muadh apartment was small and neat. Khaled smiled at how they left it before leaving. Sometimes you may need to leave the place to discover the mess you created behind you. They sat at the computer. Khaled handed Muadh the email address. Muadh carried out several processes. He got involved in a world he was apparently missing so much. He made some unintelligible sounds as if he was enjoying some food.
- As if you’re recalling the taste of some memory.
- I am. I really miss this electronic riot… ok…one minute.
Ohhhhhhh. Open Sesame!
Huda’s email was luring Khaled to approach it. It was calling him to come over to dig deep and know the truth…the whole truth, whereas Khaled, as tense as an arrow of a bow, was resisting to prevent his left hand from trembling. He was wondering,
- Are you still holding another surprise for me, destiny?
