Clink…clink…clink…clink
The sound of the spoon as it hit the sides of the cup of the black tea Zohra ordered and stopped drinking. She was moving the spoon slowly, thinking and looking downwards. Khaled was swallowing his salvia with fright and exhaustion after he told her every single detail of the incident and answered the questions of Zohra who interrupted him like a hundred times or more.
He really liked that she used the plural pronoun. So, she was considering herself part of the issue. She did not ask him whether he rushed to know and meet her because of Zahrliza which meant she was only a bridge to reach this goal. She either overlooked that or kept this question for later time and place.
Khaled had actually prepared himself for the worst possibilities and prepared another plan in case the first failed or in case Zohra was like Huda and decided to turn the table on him.
The evidence he had was significant: the emails between Bernard and Huda, the messages between Huda and the gangsters, and the forged painting in the American Museum whose authenticity should be verified once he raised doubts about it.
In case he was harmed, Muadh was going to send the evidence from an anonymous email that would contain all of that to the administration of the American Museum and the Belgium police. After that he would wait for the results that were clear to him.
What he needed to know from Zohra was to make sure where Dr. Bernard kept the painting to make his email more concise. He wanted to clear away all doubts from the minds of the Belgium police which would come to search a previously identified place rather than searching the whole villa especially that he might be placing the painting in a private place, so they would not be able to find anything.
Khaled drove the girl back to her house. He drove it confidently and calmly as Muadh requested. His bit of advice was, ‘be careful. Observe your dress and act confidently, so no policeman will ever ask you to stop till the end of the world’.
The bit of advice seemed really effective. He passed by tens of policemen daily on foot or by their cars. They never paid him any attention as long as he was not violating a law or make noise.
Muadh had an adventurous spirit. He did not even fear that Khaled was with him or letting Khaled use his car. He had always been like that since his childhood. There are people who are born courageous, and they do not need to acquire it. Muadh was one of them.
Zohra told Khaled on Facebook that she could not find the chance to enter the cellar. He asked her not to rush while a volcano of worries was boing inside him.
Sometimes he forgot or tried to forget everything about Zahrliza and the reason he came there. He got involved in the life of migration; he worked in Peter’s restaurant in the morning, and in the evening he used to arrange the goods of a small shop that open overnight. Muadh was also who got him the job.
Khaled went out to walk around in the night of Belgium. He always told himself that the first novel he would write would be in the cold, inspiring weather of Europe.
When he went back into Muadh’s apartment, he found him fast asleep. He sat at his laptop, hut his fingers were strongly resisting him. He felt the need for inspiration, but the delivery was too hard, and writing was resisting him like a beautiful girl.
He lay in bed and contemplated everything that happened earlier. He remembered his friends Munir and Mahdi who were shocked when they knew of his intention to migrate. He asked them to keep it as a secret and inform Aziza Rahma he was in one of his literary journeys.
He had overwhelming longing for his small apartment and Aziza Rahma who definitely was having difficult time with his stubborn cat that would steal meat from her.
He was missing his tranquil life in Tangier. We all say out loud how much we need to break free from out daily routine, but once we do, we miss it and wish to return to it. We realize then how awesome our lives were before any change took place.
Was it the normal nostalgia even when this past was near?
Few months ago, his biggest problems were walking down the street without giving the grocer, to whom he was indebted, the chance of spotting him and how to manage to pay the Internet bill. However, now he was shouldering a heavy burden and trying to pay Tangier back a part of her debt without making anyone know that and without waiting for thanks or recognition. It was indeed aKamikaze mission he carried out because of a blend of his love to Tangier and a desire for revenge. Later, the second feeling faded away, and Tangier and loving her entirely took over. In the course of achieving that, all culprits, Huda included, would be punished.
Zohra sent him a message on Facebook that said the mission was carried out successfully, and Zahrliza was in the cellar which she found out to be more of a museum than to a cellar in a villa.
It was Saturday, and the following day would be Sunday. There would be enough time for Zohra to tell him the whole story in Le Fontainas Café.