What are you thinking of? Am I a smuggler or a swimming teacher?” It seemed that Abul Khaizuran liked the idea, for he started to chuckle, hitting his thighs with his hands and turning round. “What are you thinking of? Am I a swimming teacher? Listen, my boy, the tank hasn’t seen any water for six months.”
“I thought you were carrying the water for a hunting expedition a week ago,” said Assad quietly.
“Oh well … you know. You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t know.”
“I mean for six days. One exaggerates sometimes. Now, are we agreed? Let’s bring this momentous meeting to an end.”
Abu Qais stood up, preparing to say the decisive word. But before he spoke he let his eyes wander over them all and then waited a little, looking at Assad as though he were imploring his help. He went up to Abul Khaizuran.
“Listen, Abul Khaizuran, I’m a simple man and I don’t understand all these complications. But that story of the hunting expedition … I didn’t like it. You say you carried water for Haj Rida, and now you say that the tank of your lorry hasn’t had sight or smell of water for six months. I’ll tell you the truth, and I hope you won’t be angry. I doubt whether you have a lorry at all.” Abu Qais turned to the others and continued in a sad tone of voice: “I prefer to pay fifteen dinars and go with a smuggler by the desert road. I don’t want any more problems.”
Abul Khaizuran laughed, saying loudly:
“Go and see what it’s like … do you think I don’t know those smugglers? They leave you in the middle of the road and melt away like a lump of salt. And you, in turn, will melt away in the August heat without anyone knowing. Go on, go and see what it’s like. Many have tried before you. Would you like me to show you the way? Why do you think they take the money from you first?”
“But I know many people who’ve arrived there by way of the smugglers.”
“Ten percent at the most. Go and ask them, and they will tell you that they finished the journey without a smuggler or a guide, and that their luck helped them to survive.”
Abu Qais froze in his place. For a moment it seemed he would fall. Marwan noticed that Abu Qais resembled his father closely, and he looked away from him, no longer able to concentrate his mind on a single subject. Abul Khaizuran went on, shouting:
“You must decide quickly! I’ve no time to waste. I swear to you on my honor—”
Assad quietly interrupted him:
“Leave the subject of honor for another time. Things go better when a man doesn’t swear by his honor.”
Abul Khaizuran turned to him:
“No, Mr. Assad. You are an intelligent, experienced man. What do you think?”
“About what?”
“About everything.”
Assad smiled, noticing that Abu Qais and Marwan were waiting to hear his decision.