Read Online City of the Sun by Juliana Maio - Free Book Online
Authors: Juliana Maio
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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tucked among Lili’s dozens of brightly colored dresses, which reflected the girl’s effervescent personality. Living for her tennis matches and dance contests, Lili had the world in the palm of her hand. With a father that called her endearing pet names like mesh mesh , meaning apricot, his favorite fruit, and ayouni , meaning my eyes, how could Lili not feel lucky in life? With pangs of envy, Maya quickly closed the closet.
She moved away and started to unbutton her shirt. She removed her watch and placed it inside a sock under her cot, where she kept a dozen other watches. She had worn them all strapped tightly along her arms when they’d traveled and now by reflex she passed a hand along the bare skin where invariably the bands would pinch her too tightly and leave red stripes. She had pawned her mother’s fur coat for them. The watches were easier to carry and far easier to sell. She had gotten this idea from a Polish refugee in France.
As she continued undressing, she sat down on the bed.
The lovely strains of Beethoven’s Für Elise filtered through the ceiling as a budding pianist on the floor above diligently practiced the piece. She brought her feather pillow up to her face and inhaled the scent of its freshly laundered case. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of cars and trams. People were coming home for lunch. It all felt normal, safe, like life used to be. She felt tears rush to her eyes.
“Stop it,” she said, softly slapping her cheek. But her tears welled, ready to break into sobs. “Stop it,” she insisted and slapped her other cheek, this time harder. Crying was not an option. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she snapped, disgusted with herself for allowingthis moment of weakness. When she heard a light knock on the door, she sat up and composed herself.
It was Allegra with a towel. “The bath is ready,” she said with a perfunctory smile and quickly turned on her heels.
Maya impulsively seized her hand. “Thank you so very much for your hospitality, Mrs. Levi.”
The woman averted her eyes and abruptly freed her hand. She toyed nervously with the hand pendant hanging from a gold chain around her neck, an amulet against the evil eye. “Please, don’t,” Allegra pleaded and quickly moved away.
CHAPTER 7
Mickey sat at the breakfast table while the radio played softly in the background and the brilliant, buttery morning light came in through the open shutters. The sounds of shopkeepers opening their stores wafted from below. He wrote down the name Simon Cattaoui. It had popped up in several of the documents in Dorothy’s file. A senator as well as a wealthy landowner, Cattaoui had been serving as president of Cairo’s Jewish community center for the last fifteen years.
Dorothy had opened her report by claiming that the Jews probably had more influence here than anywhere else in the world. This was no overstatement. Not only did they own most of the banks and dominate a variety of businesses, from railroads to retailing to real estate, but Egyptian Jews also held important posts in government and were advisors to the king. They were abundantly represented in journalism, medicine, and law. Mickey noticed numerous bey and pasha titles on Dorothy’s list of Cairo’s wealthiest Jewish citizens, but he also found many “Sirs,” indicating that the English honored them as well.
Most of the Jewish population in the country, which totaled eighty thousand, was born here. A tiny fraction dated way back, but the majority traced their ancestry to the huge wave of immigration after the Suez Canal was built and the push for modernization began after 1869. They came mostlyfrom neighboring countries—Greece, Italy, Turkey, Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, Lebanon, and Syria.
Mickey took a last bite of his toast, which was smothered with a thick layer of his favorite pomegranate marmalade, and jotted down 22 rue Magrabi—the address of the Jewish community center, which ran a highly
She moved away and started to unbutton her shirt. She removed her watch and placed it inside a sock under her cot, where she kept a dozen other watches. She had worn them all strapped tightly along her arms when they’d traveled and now by reflex she passed a hand along the bare skin where invariably the bands would pinch her too tightly and leave red stripes. She had pawned her mother’s fur coat for them. The watches were easier to carry and far easier to sell. She had gotten this idea from a Polish refugee in France.
As she continued undressing, she sat down on the bed.
The lovely strains of Beethoven’s Für Elise filtered through the ceiling as a budding pianist on the floor above diligently practiced the piece. She brought her feather pillow up to her face and inhaled the scent of its freshly laundered case. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of cars and trams. People were coming home for lunch. It all felt normal, safe, like life used to be. She felt tears rush to her eyes.
“Stop it,” she said, softly slapping her cheek. But her tears welled, ready to break into sobs. “Stop it,” she insisted and slapped her other cheek, this time harder. Crying was not an option. “Stop it, stop it, stop it,” she snapped, disgusted with herself for allowingthis moment of weakness. When she heard a light knock on the door, she sat up and composed herself.
It was Allegra with a towel. “The bath is ready,” she said with a perfunctory smile and quickly turned on her heels.
Maya impulsively seized her hand. “Thank you so very much for your hospitality, Mrs. Levi.”
The woman averted her eyes and abruptly freed her hand. She toyed nervously with the hand pendant hanging from a gold chain around her neck, an amulet against the evil eye. “Please, don’t,” Allegra pleaded and quickly moved away.
CHAPTER 7
Mickey sat at the breakfast table while the radio played softly in the background and the brilliant, buttery morning light came in through the open shutters. The sounds of shopkeepers opening their stores wafted from below. He wrote down the name Simon Cattaoui. It had popped up in several of the documents in Dorothy’s file. A senator as well as a wealthy landowner, Cattaoui had been serving as president of Cairo’s Jewish community center for the last fifteen years.
Dorothy had opened her report by claiming that the Jews probably had more influence here than anywhere else in the world. This was no overstatement. Not only did they own most of the banks and dominate a variety of businesses, from railroads to retailing to real estate, but Egyptian Jews also held important posts in government and were advisors to the king. They were abundantly represented in journalism, medicine, and law. Mickey noticed numerous bey and pasha titles on Dorothy’s list of Cairo’s wealthiest Jewish citizens, but he also found many “Sirs,” indicating that the English honored them as well.
Most of the Jewish population in the country, which totaled eighty thousand, was born here. A tiny fraction dated way back, but the majority traced their ancestry to the huge wave of immigration after the Suez Canal was built and the push for modernization began after 1869. They came mostlyfrom neighboring countries—Greece, Italy, Turkey, Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, Lebanon, and Syria.
Mickey took a last bite of his toast, which was smothered with a thick layer of his favorite pomegranate marmalade, and jotted down 22 rue Magrabi—the address of the Jewish community center, which ran a highly
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