“Has it bitten someone?”
“No, effendi, but Suleiman wants to use the lavatory.”
“Tell him to use another one. Oh, and send for the snake catcher.”
Doubt.
“Effendi-?”
“Yes?”
“Abdulla is in hospital.”
Abdulla was the usual snake catcher.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He has hurt his back.”
“Send for another.”
“We have, effendi. We sent for Ibrahim and he’s not there.”
“Surely there must be someone else? What about my snake catcher? He’s a good one.”
“Yes, effendi, but Farouz knows him and says he is visiting his son today.”
“Well, wait a minute, there’s one in the Gamaliya. Abu, his name is. Try him.”
Later.
Commotion again.
“What the hell is it this time?”
“Effendi, he’s sent a woman.”
“What woman? Oh, Jalila. She’s all right. What’s the matter?”
“She’s a woman, effendi.”
“Yes, I know that.”
“It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Does it matter? As long as she gets rid of the snake?”
“Oh, yes, effendi”-chorus-“it wouldn’t be right at all.”
“Why not?”
“What would a woman know about it? Catching snakes is a man’s job.”
“She can do it. I’ve seen her.”
“Yes, but-”
“She would be frightened, effendi.”
“No, she wouldn’t. I’ve seen her get into a tank of snakes.”
“She might get hurt.”
“No, she wouldn’t. I’ve seen her, I tell you. She knows all about it.”
“Effendi-”
He decided he’d better go down. It was indeed Jalila. She was looking defiant.
“I can do it,” she said. “I often help my father.”
“Helping is one thing, doing another.”
“Why can’t he come himself?” asked Owen.
“He’s-he’s not well.”
“He’s dead drunk,” said one of the orderlies.
“He can’t come. He’s sent me.”
“He doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Effendi,” appealed Jalila desperately, “we need the money.”
“The Rifa’i wouldn’t like it,” an orderly said.
Owen thought that was probably true.
“Is he really drunk?” he asked Jalila.
Jalila hung her head.
“Yes, effendi,” she said miserably. “He always is these days.”
“It’s shame,” said one of the orderlies. “Shame at having a daughter like this.”
Jalila looked at him savagely.
“Can’t he be woken up?”
“No, effendi,” said Jalila sadly. “When he’s like this he sleeps for a day and a night.”
“Perhaps we’d better leave it till tomorrow,” said Owen.
“Effendi, Suleiman-”
“You can’t have it both ways,” Owen snapped. “If you won’t let her do it, you’ll just have to manage without.”
“It would be all right if her father was here,” someone muttered. “No one minds her helping.”
Owen suddenly had an idea.
“Very well. Fetch him!”
“Fetch him?”
“Carry him if necessary.”
Abu was fetched. He arrived slung unceremoniously across a donkey and snoring loudly.
“Right. Put him down.”
Abu was dumped in the courtyard. Owen bent over him. The stench of alcohol rose up and hit him in the nose.
“He’s out for the count, all right,” he said.
“Effendi,” said Jalila in despair, “believe me, he won’t wake up-”
“Never mind that. You get on with it.”
“Get on with it?”
“He’s here, isn’t he? Right, well, you’re helping.”
Jalila looked at him doubtfully.
“Go on. Get on with it.”
Jalila picked up her bag and set out across the yard to the little, square mud-brick building which was the orderlies’ lavatory.
The orderlies watched interestedly.
“Rather her than me.”
“It’s fortunate it’s only a woman.”
Beside the lavatory was a heap of rags which got up as Jalila approached.
“Who’s that?” said Owen.
“Nassem. He cleans the lavatory.”
Jalila spoke to him and they went round to the back of the lavatory. A moment later Jalila reappeared following a trail which led to a hole in the large whitewashed wall which surrounded the courtyard. On the other side was a piece of wasteland. Owen, guiltily, was reminded of his garden.
Jalila put her bag down and stood for a moment looking around her carefully. A large crowd had gathered, most of them orderlies from within the building, in the hope of seeing something interesting, like the hunt going wrong.
Jalila’s eye lit on a small heap of crumbled masonry. She approached it carefully and then squatted down to think. Owen could see what the problem was. The snake was down the hole under the masonry and Jalila couldn’t get at its tail. Snake catchers liked to approach from the rear and seize the tail. That way it couldn’t twine round something and hold fast.
Jalila went back to her bag, put her hand in and pulled out a snake. She held it for a moment or two in her hand, stroking the back of its head gently with her finger. Then she put it down on the ground in front of the hole. It found a warm brick and settled itself comfortably in the sun.
Nothing happened for about a quarter of an hour. Then something stirred in the hole. A little dark head appeared. It hung there uncertainly for a moment or two and then slid out.
When the snake’s whole body was clear of the hole, Jalila pounced, pinning it to the ground with her stick. It tried to rear but couldn’t. The head lifted and spat.
Still pinning it with one hand, Jalila dangled a fold of her skirt in front of its face. The snake struck at it savagely, then withdrew its head and struck again. As it lifted its head back, Owen could see the yellow drops on the cloth.
Jalila teased it again, and then again. The snake went on striking until it was exhausted.
“The bag,” said Jalila, “bring me the bag.”
Owen pushed it towards her. She opened it with one hand and then, quick as a flash, dropped the stick, seized the snake with two hands, lifted it and dropped it in, closing the neck of the bag quickly. For a moment the bag thrashed about. Then it went still.
Unhurriedly, Jalila picked up the other snake, still drowsy about the brick, and dropped that in as well. Then she tied the neck of the bag.
“Well, that was rather disappointing,” said one of the orderlies.
“It all looked a bit easy to me,” said another.
“I don’t think the snake was really trying. Probably knew it was a woman.”
“Yes, you get more excitement with a man.”
“Ah, well, that’s because snake catching’s not really a job for a woman.”
“Lucky her father was here.”
“Back inside!” said Owen. “All of you. The fantasia is over for the day.”
He paid Jalila generously.
“What about your father?”
Jalila shrugged.
“He can lie there until he comes to,” she said. “He won’t know where he is but that’s no different from any other time.”
“You were very good,” said Owen. “It’s harder when you can’t see their tails.”
Jalila was pleased and went off beaming.
That evening, as he came out of the Bab-el-Khalk, she was waiting for him.
“I want to thank you,” she said. “They wouldn’t have accepted it if you hadn’t made them.”
“I had seen you with snakes,” he said. “Remember?”
She fell in beside him shyly.
“Yes,” she said. “That-that is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
In fact, for some time she didn’t say anything. As they passed a sherbet shop, Owen considered buying her a sherbet. It was, of course, a thing you did not do; but then, you didn’t walk down the street with stray young women, either, not unless they were very stray. Jalila, admittedly, was walking a step behind him, to keep things decent. The position was doubly respectable, since it was a little out to one side, where a suppliant might walk. A wife would walk directly behind. The darkness, however, was probably the greatest safeguard of Jalila’s reputation.