Glass Collector (23 page)

“This is the last time,” Jacob warns as the cart stops beside the thorn tree. “I’m not kidding!”

“I’ll see her today. I will. Just you wait.”

Deep inside, Aaron can’t help believing that he really will see Rachel. From the rumors circulating in Mokattam, Rachel is doing well. She’s had the operation on her left leg and two steel plates have been inserted for her bones to grow along, and the doctors have been incredible and haven’t stolen her liver. As long as she doesn’t get ill, especially with a virus like swine flu, she should be home in a month.

Swine flu! Aaron worries and worries about swine flu. Now he’s growing angry with the families who are hiding pigs in their homes in Mokattam. He’s tempted to report Abe’s mom and the rest of them to the authorities in order to save Rachel from getting the disease when she eventually comes home. These things are on his mind as he pats his hair and straightens his shoulders to walk through the plain doors of the modern hospital.

A pregnant woman in a navy headscarf briefly looks Aaron up and down when he steps aside for her to enter first. Three children scurry after her and Aaron quickens his pace as the
rat-a-tat
door shuts behind him. He follows them, pretending to be part of the family as they hurry for the elevator.

The stairs are at the far side of the foyer so not worth running for. Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron can see the receptionist talking to a man in baggy jeans with long hair who’s nervous about something. As bad as it would be to get caught now, Aaron knows he can get to the elevator before the receptionist has time to come around her desk to stop him. Luckily, she’s busy and for once doesn’t notice Aaron as the elevator door clacks open and then shut.

Aaron doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been holed up in an elevator before. He’s only seen elevator doors open and close when peeping into hotel foyers. Yesterday, someone said that Rachel was on the tenth floor, but the buttons on the wall here don’t look capable of sending the elevator that far on their own. There’s no steering wheel or engine or anything inside the metal box. When the woman asks him where he’s going, Aaron blurts out, “To see my friend.”

The woman presses the button for the third floor and the elevator shoots into action. Shocked by the sudden movement, which makes his hair stand on end, and knowing he might as well have the word
Zabbaleen
stamped across his forehead, Aaron doubts the woman believes he has a friend in this hospital.

When the elevator reaches the third floor and the woman and children give Aaron a final once-over before getting out, he sighs with relief that the corridor is empty of people. He presses the button for the tenth floor, feeling strangely powerful when the elevator shoots upward. It feels so good, he’s half tempted to go back down and come up again. He’d like to play around here, but the idea of seeing Rachel eclipses the excitement of riding in the lift.

“Room nineteen, the tenth floor,” Aaron mutters to himself as the elevator rattles to a stop. He eagerly brushes past two men in white coats and braces himself for being caught and thrown out as he creeps down the hallway, searching for the correct room.

The sound of pattering feet echoes down the wide corridor. The familiar smell of disinfectant is mixed with polish and fly spray. Weirdly, no one seems interested in him as doctors, nurses, and workers pushing trolleys hurry on by and Aaron starts to sweat the closer he gets to Rachel’s room. At last he slows down. He’s nearly there, but what’s he going to say?

A young man shuffles past on crutches, leaving a whiff of strong aftershave behind. Gazing at the number 19 as if it’s the start of a terrifying ordeal, Aaron feels his knees almost give way. When a burst of crying from a baby in a nearby room closes in on him, the smell, noise, and feel of damp linoleum under his feet turn the number 19 into a giddy blur. Kicking against the instinct to run, Aaron barges through the door like a wild animal and, hand on the perfume bottle in his pocket, and swings round to face Rachel, who is asleep in bed.

In the heavenly afternoon light, her coppery hair gleams and the blue sheet and creamy pillow are like a wide sky with a perfect cloud. The cage that has been placed under the sheet to protect Rachel’s leg makes her look like a floating angel. She’s so lovely it almost hurts him to look. Aaron stamps the picture in his mind and seals it tight.

But what’s the crumpled piece of paper clasped in her hand?

He peers at a crinkled, serrated edge of glossy white paper that looks as if it’s been cut from a magazine. It’s a picture of something. He’s tempted to twist it from her but doesn’t want to wake her up, she’s sleeping so deeply. If the clacking noise from the corridor would only stop, he could listen to the gentle pattern of her breathing. With nothing in the room but a glass of water on the bedside table to distract him from her peaceful face, Aaron stares and stares until a band of smog outside the window smothers the sun and the light in the room changes from creamy white to a dusty yellow.

By the time Aaron creeps from the room forty minutes have passed.

Jacob isn’t happy. Sitting under the thorn tree, watching cars come and go with sick kids and women clutching their swollen bellies, is testing his patience. Hospitals scare him. He pulls a white packet of out-of-date pills from his shirt pocket and swallows three.

Lolling around in the still heat doesn’t feel so bad, though he’s coming to the rapid conclusion that Aaron’s the most selfish person he’s ever met. In fact, there are lots of reasons why Aaron’s getting on his nerves. First, he eats too much. Even Noha’s been complaining about the amount of rice he puts away each day. Then, Aaron ignores Wadida, his sister, who clearly likes him. Fatima with the Filthy Mouth says he’s got the devil in him. “Just look in his eyes.”

Since she said that, Jacob’s been watching Aaron closely. Shareen told him that Aaron prefers to be on his own because he doesn’t trust anyone, and who knows why he keeps asking for a lift to the perfume shop. Since Aaron’s come to live with him, Jacob’s been feeling more and more hemmed in.

When at last Aaron appears from the hospital, Jacob’s had enough. “Where have you been?”

“I was watching over Rachel,” Aaron says, and smiles.

Jacob isn’t keen on that self-satisfied smile.

“She getting better?”

“I dunno.”

Aaron climbs up and that’s it. He doesn’t say another word. There’s a strange look on his face as he stares at the traffic—lost in his own world. His silence not only leaves Jacob dangling but widens the gap between them. That’s it. Jacob’s had enough. Ferrying Aaron back and forth is finished. The sooner he moves out of his home the better.

Over the last few days, when the cart enters Mokattam through the stone arch that leads to the tunnel of shops and stalls, Shareen has darted out of the shadows of the laundry and forced Jacob to stop. Today’s no different.

“Hiya,” she yells, glad to see them.

“What is it now?” Jacob sighs.

Each time he’s been ready for her to mention the message he left on the floor on her wedding night. But every day she makes a different excuse for preventing them from going home.

Shuffling to the side of the cart, Shareen glares at Aaron, desperate for his attention. There’s a hint of jealousy on her face when she asks, “How’s Rachel doing?”

“What?” Aaron eyes Jacob with suspicion. He hasn’t told anyone they’ve been going to the hospital, so it must be down to him that Shareen knows.

Curling the sleeve of her navy galabeya between her fingers, Shareen sniffs. “Don’t pretend.” A whiff of used bandages from the cart and the drowning smell of decaying garbage force her to cover her nose for a second. From the glimpse of her short fingernails and red knuckles, Aaron guesses she’s been scrubbing clothes or sorting garbage. Something her father never made her do. Clearly her days of learning to weave and make cards are over now that she’s Daniel’s wife.

“Well?”

Determined not to let them pass without getting an answer, Shareen plants herself in front of them and, when Jacob tries to steer round her, she buries her nose in the pony’s neck, nuzzling him as if her life depends on it. Her over-the-top affection forces a woman with tangled gray hair to stop picking up cigarette butts and stand and watch. It’s hard to stay back when Shareen’s making such a fuss of the skinny pony.

With a sack of oranges on his shoulder, Habi stumbles past, eyeing her strange behavior, then pauses to smile at Jacob.

Jacob ignores him, even though he’s a close friend of his mother.

“How’s Rachel doing?” Shareen barks at Aaron again.

Aaron nods. “Tell you at the wall later.”

Shocked, Habi drops the sack of oranges and widens his eyes. Jacob catches the surprise on his face and nudges Aaron. “You idiot!” he says under his breath. “She’s married. You can’t just arrange to meet her like that.”

Startled by the hiss of anger in Jacob’s words, Aaron frowns. He’s been acting weird lately but has never called him an idiot before. The pony lifts a knee and walks on as Jacob snaps the reins.

“I’m not staying married,” Shareen yells at the top of her voice as Habi shakes his head.

“That girl’s nothing but trouble,” Jacob finishes.

With each
clip-clop
of the pony, the calm of Mokattam soon replaces the madness of Cairo. When at last they pull up to unload the cart outside the tenement, Aaron bites his thumb to try and remove a splinter under his nail. His hands are covered in scratches but only the splinter bothers him as they tip syringes, bandages, empty blood bags, tubes, beakers, unmarked bottles, plastic gloves, and torn gowns onto the path for sorting. It feels as if the gods are rolling the sun into his eyes as Aaron catches sight of something bright and sparkling in the blurry heap beneath his feet.

Jacob folds and slaps the last plastic bag flat. He’s about to fetch his mother and sisters to sort the waste when Aaron startles him by picking something delicate out of the hospital debris.

“Hey! Hey!” Aaron cries, holding a pink stone necklace to the sky. It shimmers in the sunlight.

“Rubies?” Awestruck, Jacob touches the glittering stones and thin gold chain. “Where did you find it?”

Aaron eyes the mound of medical waste at his feet and visions of the hospitals they’ve cleared shoot through his mind. They both stare hard at a broken clipboard, empty soap dispenser, soiled bandages and tissues, trying to work out where and how this expensive necklace was lost.

“Give it to the priest,” Jacob says.

“No way,” Aaron shouts. “Are you crazy?”

“You are if you think you can keep it. Everyone knows you’re a thief!”

Jacob’s words are like a knife to Aaron’s stomach. “I don’t take anything from the Zabbaleen.”

“It could be worth a lot of money. You should give it back,” Jacob says.

“You’re mad. What about the perfumes? You didn’t say anything then.”

“I knew you wouldn’t listen. That’s why,” Jacob sighs. Aaron slips the necklace in his pocket. It hits the glass perfume bottle with a tinkling that he dares Jacob to notice. Heart racing, he’s furious that Jacob’s staring at him in that superior way. He found the necklace. He’ll decide what to do with it, not Jacob.

Confusion adds to Aaron’s trembling as he wanders to the doorway of the tenement, desperate for food, but Jacob runs at him and slams him against the wall. Aaron gasps, doubling up with shock that Jacob is prepared to hurt him to get what he wants. Struggling and twisting to prevent him from plucking the necklace from his pocket, he slaps Jacob’s elbow from his neck. There’s something laughable in the grunts they make, pushing and kneeing each other like five- year-olds, until Aaron accepts Jacob’s desperation is real and lifts the sparkling rubies from his pocket and hands them to him.

From the look of surprise on his face, Jacob reacts as if he’s been given a fist of maggots. Sweat rolls into his thick eyebrows as he gently takes the necklace and races up the concrete stairs to tell his mother and sisters.

Aaron draws a deep breath and sighs, listening for voices to echo down the stairwell, while an empty shell of loneliness opens inside him. What’s about to happen next sinks in slowly like a cold, painful death and all the time, for comfort, his hand clenches the glass bottle in his dusty pocket. Suffering and grieving are what his life is about, but this is different. How can Jacob be so nasty? Aaron could have sold the necklace and rescued Rachel. They could have run away to a village in Upper Egypt and built a house. They could have been happy.

Then footsteps sound at the top of the stairs.

Blue-patterned scarf on her head, Fatima with the Filthy Mouth
pit-patters
toward him. Her galabeya floats out behind like a storm cloud. When she sees Aaron leaning on the wall, a quick sideways glance says she knows something’s wrong. Suddenly fascinated, she pauses and folds her arms, and a whiff of saffron smothers Aaron. She’s been cooking and the strong smell makes his stomach lurch.

They eye each other for a second until she scratches her lined chin.

“You never visit your mother’s grave. Not even on Easter Sunday,” she says accusingly.

As Aaron glares back at her guilty, the truth of what she’s saying turns to anger and then frustration, but something stops him from retaliating. How can he explain to her that visiting his mother’s grave will make her death real again? Something he tries hard to ignore for fear of losing control of himself. Instead he feels pity. They might live in the same world, but Fatima’s is a far uglier one even than his. Stuck here with nothing but pictures of Jesus and Mary to keep her company, she’s kept going by the weekly gift of milk, rice, and vegetables from the church. He can’t help feeling sorry for her, even though the new pull of just telling Fatima where to go is a strong one. Instead he shrugs, then tilts his head to the footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

By the time Noha crashes down the stairs, followed by Jacob, Fatima has gone and Aaron has resigned himself to sleeping with the ponies again and foraging for scraps of food. One glare from Noha’s disappointed face is enough for Aaron to regret showing Jacob the pink stones that are now tinkling in her thrusting, open palm.