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Book: The Boy Who The Set Fire and Other Stories by Paul Bowles and Mohammed Mrabet
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Authors: Paul Bowles and Mohammed Mrabet
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We don’t drink, Bahloul said.
We’re leaving Morocco, you see, and we’re not coming back. It’s too bad, but that’s how it is. We have work to do in America, so we’ve got to go. But there’s no place like Morocco, and we’re all very sad.
Then she brought out a large sheet of paper and laid it in front of Bahloul. Here, she said. Sign your name at the bottom here. And I’ll sign mine. You see? Now, all these things here are for you. You can take them all away. We’ve sent everything else to America, and at seven-thirty tomorrow we’re taking the plane. But you must keep that paper. It’s very important for you.
Bahloul was delighted. He folded the paper and put it into his pocket.
We loved your mother, and we want to give you something worthwhile. She handed Bahloul a check.
Your mother was with us for a long time. She was a brave woman. Very clean, and a fine worker. Like one of the family to us. When I saw her son left all alone in the world, I felt very bad, and I wanted to help. You must excuse me for saying all this in front of your friend, but there’s no time.
On the contrary. You’re doing me a great favor, said Bahloul. He and Zizi went to get a large truck which they brought back with them to the Mountain. They began to carry out the furniture and other things. They drove the truck to Bahloul’s house, emptied it, and returned to get more.
At his house he filled the three rooms he did not use. Finally they were completely full of furniture and rugs. They had even brought pails and brooms, and all the flower pots from the garden. They left the house on the Mountain completely empty. Bahloul wished the Nazarenes a good journey, said good-bye, and went home to bed.
Early the next morning he and Zizi went together to the bank to cash the check, and got the money. I’m really happy now, Bahloul told Zizi. I’ve got a little cash, and I’m going to rent the shop next door. Let’s go and see the owner.
They went to the man’s house and knocked on the door.
Salaam aleikoum .
Aleikoum salaam . What is it?
I’d like to rent the empty shop down the street.
What for?
I want to sell things in it.
I see. It’s a hundred pesetas a month.
Bahloul gave the man a thousand pesetas. Now it’s mine for a long time. Please give me a receipt, then. Say I paid ten months in advance.
The man wrote out the paper and gave him the key to the shop.
Bahloul and Zizi walked down to the city. They came back with a truck full of sugar, flour, oil, tea and cans of food. They bought a pair of scales for weighing the food, and everything else that was necessary for opening a store. The next morning they were both there, and the door was open so that customers could come in.
The first week they sold a great deal of merchandise. The two sat there all day in the shop drinking tea and smoking kif and eating pieces of aghrebia, which was stronger than the kif. The neighbors would send their children for a kilo of sugar or two kilos of potatoes or a bottle of oil or a liter of kerosene. At the end of the month my father will come and pay you, the children said.
They noted down every sale, and more people came, and they noted down what they took and how much they owed. Out of a hundred customers maybe twenty-five would pay, and the rest promised to pay at the end of the month. And at the end of the month the men would come and say they could pay only half. Each time Bahloul did the accounts, he found that he had lost more money, and this went on month after month.
At the end of the year he realized that he had lost about twenty thousand pesetas. The neighbors had them.
Bahloul did not wait. He sold everything in the store and returned the key to the owner. He was disgusted with his life, and sat around the house in a very bad humor. Zizi said to him: That was a good business we had, wasn’t it? We couldn’t even get our money out of it.
I’m not going to fight with them, said Bahloul. If they want to give
We’re leaving Morocco, you see, and we’re not coming back. It’s too bad, but that’s how it is. We have work to do in America, so we’ve got to go. But there’s no place like Morocco, and we’re all very sad.
Then she brought out a large sheet of paper and laid it in front of Bahloul. Here, she said. Sign your name at the bottom here. And I’ll sign mine. You see? Now, all these things here are for you. You can take them all away. We’ve sent everything else to America, and at seven-thirty tomorrow we’re taking the plane. But you must keep that paper. It’s very important for you.
Bahloul was delighted. He folded the paper and put it into his pocket.
We loved your mother, and we want to give you something worthwhile. She handed Bahloul a check.
Your mother was with us for a long time. She was a brave woman. Very clean, and a fine worker. Like one of the family to us. When I saw her son left all alone in the world, I felt very bad, and I wanted to help. You must excuse me for saying all this in front of your friend, but there’s no time.
On the contrary. You’re doing me a great favor, said Bahloul. He and Zizi went to get a large truck which they brought back with them to the Mountain. They began to carry out the furniture and other things. They drove the truck to Bahloul’s house, emptied it, and returned to get more.
At his house he filled the three rooms he did not use. Finally they were completely full of furniture and rugs. They had even brought pails and brooms, and all the flower pots from the garden. They left the house on the Mountain completely empty. Bahloul wished the Nazarenes a good journey, said good-bye, and went home to bed.
Early the next morning he and Zizi went together to the bank to cash the check, and got the money. I’m really happy now, Bahloul told Zizi. I’ve got a little cash, and I’m going to rent the shop next door. Let’s go and see the owner.
They went to the man’s house and knocked on the door.
Salaam aleikoum .
Aleikoum salaam . What is it?
I’d like to rent the empty shop down the street.
What for?
I want to sell things in it.
I see. It’s a hundred pesetas a month.
Bahloul gave the man a thousand pesetas. Now it’s mine for a long time. Please give me a receipt, then. Say I paid ten months in advance.
The man wrote out the paper and gave him the key to the shop.
Bahloul and Zizi walked down to the city. They came back with a truck full of sugar, flour, oil, tea and cans of food. They bought a pair of scales for weighing the food, and everything else that was necessary for opening a store. The next morning they were both there, and the door was open so that customers could come in.
The first week they sold a great deal of merchandise. The two sat there all day in the shop drinking tea and smoking kif and eating pieces of aghrebia, which was stronger than the kif. The neighbors would send their children for a kilo of sugar or two kilos of potatoes or a bottle of oil or a liter of kerosene. At the end of the month my father will come and pay you, the children said.
They noted down every sale, and more people came, and they noted down what they took and how much they owed. Out of a hundred customers maybe twenty-five would pay, and the rest promised to pay at the end of the month. And at the end of the month the men would come and say they could pay only half. Each time Bahloul did the accounts, he found that he had lost more money, and this went on month after month.
At the end of the year he realized that he had lost about twenty thousand pesetas. The neighbors had them.
Bahloul did not wait. He sold everything in the store and returned the key to the owner. He was disgusted with his life, and sat around the house in a very bad humor. Zizi said to him: That was a good business we had, wasn’t it? We couldn’t even get our money out of it.
I’m not going to fight with them, said Bahloul. If they want to give
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