For the first third of the day, the alley is enveloped in tenebrous, cold, damp airs, unvisited by the sun until the latter approaches its zenith and breaks the siege. Life pulses in its nooks, how by Sunqur, the waiter at the ever, from the early morning, initiated cafe, who sets out the chairs and lights the Primus stove. Then the warehouse workers begin to arrive, in pairs and singly. Next, Giada appears, carrying the wooden tray with the dough. At this hour, even Uncle Kamel is too busy opening his shop and having breakfast to be sleepy. Uncle Kamel and Abbas el-Helw eat breakfast together from a tray placed between them that holds a dish of stewed beans and some green onions and pickled cucumbers. Each has his own preferred way of eating. El-Helw eats fast, polishing off his loaf in a few minutes, whereas Uncle Kamel eats slowly, chewing each mouthful until it has almost dissolved in his mouth; he likes to say, "For food to do you good it has to be digested in the mouth first." The result is that el-Helw will finish his foo(i, drink his tea, and smoke his goza while the other is still chewing and munching on his onions, which is why, in order to ensure that el-Helw doesn't take more than his fair share, Uncle Kamel divides the beans in half using a small piece of bread, and won't permit the younger man to overstep his mark. Despite his huge size, Uncle Kamel can hardly be considered a glutton, even though he does have an inordinate love of sweet pastries. A sk**ed confectioner, he nevertheless gives his art full rein only when making the special orders that are commissioned by the likes of Master Salim Elwan, Master Radwan el-Husseini, and Boss Kersha. His renown in such matters has spread far and wide, extending beyond the confines of the alley to reach Boxmakers Street, Ghouriya Street, and the gold market. Despite this, he only just makes enough to cover his simple needs and so wasn't lying when he told Abbas el-Helw that they wouldn't find enough to bury him with when he died. That very morning, he had said to el-Helw after they'd finished their breakfast, "You said you'd bought me a shroud, which is a good deed for which you deserve to be thanked and blessed, but how about letting me have it right away?"
*****
"No doubt, but there's no doubt either that she's a young woman with ambitions, and you'll never win her if you don't change your ways." Abbas's heart started pounding again and he blushed furiously, consumed by love, anxiety. and excitement. He had finished cutting the other's hair and he started combing it without uttering a word, his thoughts still racing. Then Hussein Kersha stood up and gave him his money. Before leaving, Hussein discovered that he'd forgotten his handkerchief, so he rushed back to the house. El-Helw gazed after him without moving. He looked to him to be in good spirits, full of energy, happy. "You'll never win her if you don't change your ways"-Hussein was right, no doubt about it. He lived a cramped existence, each day's labor barely bringing in enough to cover that day's expenses. If he wanted to set up a home and family in those difficult times, he'd have to make a new start. How long was he going to be satisfied with dreams and longings while he crouched here, unmoving, hands and will in shackles? Why shouldn't he try his luck and set off down his own road, as others had done? ''A young woman with ambitions"-that was what Hussein had said, and maybe he didn't really know that much about her. Maybe Hussein did know her better because he-Abbas-was used to looking at her with the cre ative, dreamy eye of love. If his girl was ambitious, then he'djust have to be ambitious too. In the future, Hussein (he smiled at the thought) might think that it had been he who had awakened him from his slumber and made him into a new being, but he knew something that no one else in this world did, which was that nothing but that beloved person could have wrenched him from his submissive, una**uming contentment. At that decisive moment in his life, Abbas became aware of the strength, the power, and the magic of love. It may be too that he felt-obscurely and at a level below that of conscious thought-the capacity of love to create and to build, for that place where love resides in our hearts is also the cradle of creativity, innovation, and renewal. That is why God created man to love and entrusted to love's care the mission of colonizing the world. In his ecstasy of love and his excitement, the young man may have asked why he should not travel. Had he not lived almost a quarter of a century in the alley? What good had it done him? The alley didn't treat its people equally and didn't requite their love. It might smile on those who scowled at it and scowl at those who smiled at it. It measured out their livelihoods drop by drop while deluging Master Salim with good fortune. Not far away, bundles of banknotes, their aroma so strong he could almost smell it, were sitting in piles while his own palm would never close over any thing more than the price of a loaf of bread. So let him travel, and let life change its face!
His thoughts thus ranging far afield, he continued to stand in front of his shop, his eyes resting on Uncle Kamel, who had fallen into a deep sleep, flywhisk on lap. Then he heard a light footfall coming from the top of the alley. He turned toward it and saw Hussein Kersha returning, walking fast. Still caught up in his sense of excite ment and anxiety, he gazed at him as a gambler might at the spinning roulette wheel until the youth had come alongside and almost gone past him, at which point he placed his hand on his shoulder and said to him, firmly and resolutely, "Hussein, I want to talk to you abou something important."