Heykal approached the café. He walked confidently, slipping between tables and carefully guarding the virgin purity of his magnificent, freshly ironed suit. He was looking straight ahead and seemed to pay no attention to the people in his path. He wondered if Khaled Omar was already there, and whether he would be recognized by him. Heykal wanted to gauge the intuition of his future friend and accomplice. It was a litmus test: surely any truly intelligent man would recognize him immediately! It seemed impossible that Khaled Omar — if he was the man Heykal imagined him to be — would fail to notice his presence.
Someone stood up in front of him, as if to block his way. It was Khaled Omar, a short man holding out a fat, ring-laden hand.
“What an honor to meet you!”
“The honor is all mine,” responded Heykal. He pressed the businessman’s hand.
“Please sit,” said Khaled Omar.
Heykal sat. Khaled Omar remained standing for a few seconds, then sat as well. He gazed ecstatically at Heykal as if at an enchanting vision.
“Forgive me for making you wait,” said Heykal. “Have you been here long?”
Khaled Omar emerged from his reverie.
“Ten minutes, if that, but it’s nothing. I’m happy to see you. I recognized you right away.”
The waiter approached. A glass of whiskey and a small plate of loukoums were already on the table.
“What can I get for you, bey?” asked the waiter, addressing Heykal.
Heykal ordered a whiskey, and the waiter left. Khaled Omar grabbed the plate of loukoums and offered it to the young man.
“Please, help yourself.”
“No thanks,” said Heykal, “not right now.”
“Then forgive me for eating in front of you,” said Khaled Omar. "I adore sweets of all kinds.”
He took a loukoum and popped it into his mouth, then licked the traces of powdered sugar from his fingertips.
Khaled Omar ate his loukoum, bobbing his head and gazing rapturously at Heykal.
“I recognized you right away.”
“I have to admit that pleases me,” responded Heykal.
“You were sure I would, weren’t you?”
“What makes you think so?”
“Well, I thought it strange that you wanted to meet this way,” said Khaled Omar. “I couldn’t see why you’d want to make things difficult — our friend Karim could easily have introduced us. But in any case, his description of you didn’t steer me wrong. I don’t mean that he described the way you look or your clothes; no, he spoke only of your ideas. And that was enough for me to recognize you.”
“So my ideas show on my face?” asked Heykal.
“It’s hard to explain. I saw you walking across the square, and I said to myself: That’s him. You had the look of someone who knows more than everyone else.”
“I know two very simple things,” Heykal said. “The rest is of no importance.”
“I wonder if they’re the same two things I know myself.”
“I’m sure they are. It’s why I’m here, and it’s why we can speak frankly.”
“So tell me what the first thing is. I’m listening.”
Khaled Omar hastily re-knotted his tie and smoothed his well-groomed mustache with his fingers, as if whatever he was about to hear merited an impeccable appearance. There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes and a hint of anxiety on his face.
“Number one is that the world we live in is governed by the most revolting bunch of crooks to ever defile the soil of this planet.”
“I couldn’t agree more. And number two?”
“Number two is that you must never take them seriously, for that is exactly what they want.”
“Agreed!” said Khaled Omar, and burst into a long, resounding laugh.
The laughter was contagious. As it spread to the surrounding tables, it grew even louder, outrageously loud. Khaled Omar turned from one neighbor to the next, winking as if to thank them for participating in his hilarity while encouraging their continued pursuit of such joyful delirium. Finally he got hold of himself; the others, however, were still convulsed with the mirth he’d so inconsiderately unleashed. Heykal had been unmoved by the general hilarity; he remained seated, stiff and aloof, observing his new friend with satisfaction. He was utterly delighted with this jovial little potbellied man, with his gleaming pomaded mustache and strong smell of violet-scented perfume. How unusual! A man whose success hadn’t corrupted him one bit. He acted just as he had when he’d gone barefoot and even slept in the street. His bizarre outfit was only a disguise; all the riches in the world would never tame the crude joy and artless affability of his every gesture. His big, mocking laugh was an outright defiance launched in the face of power.
“You see?” Khaled continued. “There’s all you need to know!”
“Yes,” said Heykal. “But still, not enough people get it.”
“Who cares? Don’t tell me you’re the kind who wants to make the world a better place?”
“God, no!” Heykal responded. “I have no interest in bettering anything. There’s nothing worse than a reformer. They’re all careerists.”
“I thought you’d say that, but I’m relieved to hear it,” said Khaled Omar. “I had the misfortune of encountering that kind in prison. They were no better than my jailers. So righteous — and as full of themselves as pregnant women. They made prison such a depressing place!”
“They’re utterly tiresome,” said Heykal, with something close to hatred. “All they want is to replace one government with another, ostensibly more-just one. They all dream of becoming ministers. Ministers! Can you imagine a filthier ambition! Please, I beg you, don’t speak to me of those people!”
“You’re right. So listen: I want to be clear about why I’m here. I’m sure our friend Karim has told you how destiny magically transformed me from a jailbird into a rich and respectable businessman. A beautiful story — very instructive — and I’ll tell it to you some day in all its glorious detail because I know you’ll appreciate it. But the short version is I earned all my money in such a crazy, ridiculous fashion that my eyes were opened to the madness of the world. Now I’d like to put this money to use — in a way that isn’t sensible or just. I’d like to make a contribution to the madness of the world. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly: a cause that is neither sensible nor just. I couldn’t put it better myself.”
“It goes without saying that everything that is mine is yours. He placed a brotherly hand on Heykal’s arm. I’m eager to know: What are your plans?”
Heykal remained silent. He wasn’t surprised by the businessman’s offer, it was just that something in his heart stirred whenever he was reminded of his ability to sway others. This man, whom he barely knew, had just offered him his fortune. What did he want in return for such extravagance? This illiterate businessman was a strange character indeed. What was it he’d said? To make a contribution to the madness of the world!