Taxi (English edition) by Khaled Al Khamissi

Author:Khaled Al Khamissi [Khamissi, Khaled Al]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Bloomsbury UK
Published: 2012-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

Thirty-one

When the distance is very short I don’t try to start a conversation with the driver, and this time I had got in on Arabian Peninsula Street in Mohandiseen, bound for Lebanon Square, a journey that takes less than three minutes.

The driver was listening to the song ‘Do you Still Remember?’ by the legendary Egyptian singer Umm Kalthoum so this was another reason for me to hold my tongue and enjoy the song, for taxi drivers rarely play beautiful songs.

But this time the driver gave me no respite and asked me a very strange question: ‘Do you know what’s the most horrible thing in the world, sir?’

At first I thought he was joking but I could see that his face was serious.

I thought a while and answered: ‘If Egypt had been beaten yesterday in the match with Ivory Coast?’ This was the day after the final of the Africa Cup of Nations, which ended in an Egyptian victory at home over Ivory Coast, through a penalty shootout.

‘No,’ he answered. ‘There’s something much more horrible.’

‘Like what?’ I asked.

‘That someone should fall in love with, excuse my language, a whore,’ he said.

‘Do you know anyone who fell in love with a whore and told you about it?’ I asked him.

‘Me, sir,’ he said. ‘I’m in love with, excuse my language, a whore.’

We had reached the Pasqua Café, where my sister and my cousin were waiting for me, but the driver had aroused the curiosity that lies within us like a burning fuse and, besides, he had a strong desire to tell his story.

The taxi stopped and I continued the conversation.

‘How did that happen?’ I asked.

‘Once I stopped for a woman in a headscarf, very respectable looking, about eleven o’clock at night, and she asked me to take her to Mohandiseen. That was at the end of August, about five or six months ago. I took her to Damascus Street and she told me to come back in two hours because she was visiting someone who was ill and she wouldn’t be able to get home that late, and may God reward me. I’m originally from the south and I thought this is a woman and the night is treacherous, so I agreed to come back in two hours. Then I went back and she came down and asked me to take her to Manshiet Nasser. I asked her for twenty-five pounds and she said she would go double and give me fifty because the customer was very generous.

‘As soon as she said “the customer”, I felt the word hit my eardrum like a rocket and pierce my skull, and my face dropped.

‘Amal, for Amal was her name, said: “I mean, what did you expect me to tell you? I mean, honestly, does any woman go visit someone sick in the middle of the night? Shouldn’t you be open-minded?”

‘So we started chatting and I felt sorry for the girl and I agreed to take her the next day to the same address at ten o’clock at night.

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