An hour later, the second message. “Hello Charles. It’s meagain, Abdellah ... Abdellah Taïa ... the Moroccan ... remember me? I’m still at the airport. There’s nobody herenow. I don’t know where you are ... And I don’t know whatto do ... Maybe take a bus over to your place? Maybe you’resick, stuck in bed ... so sick you can’t even answer the phone.What should I do? What can I do? I don’t know the code toget into your building. Okay, I’m going to wait a little whilelonger ... I’ve got all the time in the world to wait ... Kiss,kiss. See you in a bit, I hope!”

Another hour. Third and final message. “Good evening, Charles. Obviously you’ve forgotten me. You know, I sentyou a letter a month ago from Salé to confirm the date ofmy arrival here in Geneva ... Didn’t you get it? ... Maybenot ... I probably should have called to tell you exactlywhen I’d arrive ... You can’t always trust the mail, especially Moroccan mail ... Assumptions. That’s what I’ve beenunder ever since the plane landed ... I’ve been at the airportfor almost three hours ... I’ve got this really big suitcase. Ihave a few presents for you. I’m starting to get hungry. AndI don’t know where to go? Where should I go? You know Ican’t go to Jean’s place. Besides, he’s probably not even inGeneva. He’s up in Leysin, in his chalet ... I don’t knowwhat to do. I’ve got to figure something out. I was preparedfor anything, except being abandoned. Abandoned? I’d bettergrow up fast, real fast. Thanks anyway ... It’s dumb, I know,but I was always taught to say thank you. So, thank you.Well, thank you for what? Adieu! as you say in Switzerland... Adieu!”

Three phone calls. Three messages. Three monologues. The next call is to M’Barka. She tells me it’s already dark inSalé and Mustapha isn’t back yet. The television is alwaysbroken. She’s completely alone in that empty house. We’reboth alone.

Welcome to Europe!

I took the train to Cornavin Station in downtown Geneva. The ride didn’t even take fifteen minutes. My mind was goingblank. I couldn’t think, didn’t know how to link my thoughts,how to decide on anything. I only knew one thing: where toleave my suitcase. I’d leave it at the checkroom that most trainstations have for baggage. Luckily I had some money withme, a few Swiss francs.