Obviously this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to facts or really existing characters is to be considered purely fictional.
And now… keep reading for the final chapter…
AHMED’S VILLAGE
“Why have you to bark so much?”
Mohamed-the-Elder approaches with the slowness of those who no longer have any hurry. His jaw muscles are contracted while he straightens his aching back. With his wooden stick he tries to ward off a dog barking in the direction of the desert.
“May I know what’s wrong with you? You dumb beast, go away!”
The dog doesn’t seem to pay any attention.
The man looks up, shading his eyes with one hand. At first he can’t see anything unusual. His tired eyes scan the blurry expanse of dunes trembling under the scorching Sahara sun.
From those lands of ruthless nothing, something dark emerges slowly, swaying in the heat.
Slowly, as it approaches, the shape takes more distinct outlines.
It’s a man.
He wears strange clothes, dirty and torn in several places. His step is uncertain and unsteady.
You know… djinns are strange…
The elder quickly takes a small wine-skin full of water, heading towards the man.
The dog stays behind, alternating between a furious barking and yelps of fear.
The Berber reaches the unfortunate traveler, holding him up and handing him the bottle of drink. The man’s skin is blistered and cracked by sunburn. His thick black hair makes his head appear too big. They are burned here and there. He drinks eagerly the water brought by the old man.
“Easy, boy, easy. Otherwise it will do more harm than good,” exclaims the elder.
The man lowers slowly the wine skin, lingering for a moment with his eyes closed, then he drinks again long sips.
Once his thirst is quenched, he turns to the old man that rescued him, showing a friendly and very wide, almost caricatural smile.
Though they may conceal their true shape, there is always a detail that betrays them…
The traveler moves his head, turning towards Mohamed with a nod of thanks.
“May God bless your home, father.”
“Where are you from?”
The other looks up at the sky, lingering for a moment before answering.
“Well… a lot of different places…”
The old man looks at him uncertainly.
It’s said that some of them can give great gifts if greeted with kindness and with good hospitality…
“We’ll talk later. Now come, follow me. It’s not wise to sit here in the open during these hours. My village isn’t far away. What’s your name?”
The man takes a deep breath, stretching his arms. Then he looks around, before addressing a broad smile to the elder. He adjusts his crumpled, dusty and scorched dress.
Finally, satisfied, he lays his eyes on the old man’s face.
“Amr. My name is Amr.”