I think I died today. I wasn’t ready at all. Death can be quite unpleasant when you are not ready. It’s like having guests show up uninvited at your door while you were planning to spend the evening, not watching porn or stalking your crushes on social media.
“Excuse me, but this is not a good time, I have a lot of work to do.” Unfortunately, you can’t say this to those kinds of guests.
The day began like any other day in the past 34 years (or at least the ones I could remember) of my life. I woke up from an incomplete dream, my brain let go of most of the details. My room looked the same; I looked the same, felt the same and wanted the same things. I didn’t know what exactly but I was sure, it was pretty much the same as what I wanted yesterday, and the day before. With the usual morning noises outside, I could hear an unusual noise coming from down my window on the third floor.
I opened the window, looked up and saw the beautiful blue sky, then looked down and saw that Mr. Naguib was having a heated argument with Dr. Sherif. There was a small crowd of the rezidents of the building and neighbors from the block who formed a semi-circle around the two men. It was like a contemporary Colosseum encounter in the eyes of a contemporary art fan, with no emperor, lions, swords or art. Mr. Naguib was pointing at me and everyone's gaze folllowed his finger. I hadn’t noticed that I was topless, with a sleepy face and a post-modern-waking-up hairstyle. I felt embarrassed, I could have worn a shirt or something. There were some girls in the crowd as well, and now surely all the imaginary chances of me having dinner with any of them have climbed to the next imaginary level.
Mr. Naguib was very tense, and as he was talking, his veins were popping around his shirt collar. The man had a nice tie. Besides his work as a banker, Mr. Naguib was a full-time guardian of the society rulebook. He pointed again towards my window and I realized that he wasn’t actually pointing at me, but right above my window. I saw some workers were preparing to install a new air conditioner outside Dr. Sherif’s apartment. Then it came to me that I had in fact woken up to a sound of the driller instead of my alarm.
I went back in, but I could still hear them arguing. Apparently, Mr. Naguib thought that putting the air conditioner compressor on that side of the building was violating the rules of the universe and beauty of nature. The rule was that all the air conditioners have to be placed on the inner side of the building frontage, aligned with all the other well-behaving air conditioners. By violating that rule Dr. Sherif was threatening both science and art, deemed Mr Naguib.
I put on my shirt while brushing my teeth, I had an interview at a new place. I had called in sick at my current workplace. Actually, I was slightly sick, so it wasn’t a complete lie. I sneezed, just missing my jacket while putting it on, took a final look at the mirror and went out.
The elevator finally arrived. I opened the door, and was instantly intoxicated by the smell of a feminine perfume, yet the cabin was empty. It was probably Mrs. Riad from the 8th floor. We sometimes run into each other in the elevator on occasion. I’ve always thought about the health benefits of taking the stairs - it’s just couple of floors and I am still young, but I have always preferred the elevator, at least in the morning because you can take a couple more final looks in the elevator mirror, or maybe run into some interesting people with nice perfume, and exchange healthy smiles.
At the entrance of the building I saw that the crowd was still there. Apparently, Dr. Sherif had gotten the workers down and his air conditioner plans had come to a halt. Mr. Naguib was now talking more confidently as he had a majority of the Colosseum crowd on his side.
It was 8:05 AM as I had almost an hour and a half to reach my destination. It would take an hour by road and since the traffic was not that bad, I didn’t have to take a cab all the way there. It’d be too expensive for the amount of money I have left in my budget for the rest of the month, but the bus was a bit risky because of the crowd you had to share the space with. I made up my mind and decided to take the bus to the area near my destination and planned to take a cab from there for the rest of the distance.
The bus stopped, the only place available was at the edge of the middle seat. The clock was ticking so I had to jump in and hang on to the bus exposing my face and chest to the cold wind, all the way to the destination, for almost 40 minutes. The buses in our area keep the main sliding door opened for more flexibility and speed for people to jump in or out, and of course with all the benefits of having fresh air circulating inside even in freezing winter days: “It’s good for your lungs” an old driver once said. I would probably pay more for meds later than the money I saved by not taking a cab straight away.
The driver was smoking politely, he held the cigarette outside his window. He tried his best to puff the smoke away so the rest of the people inside had to deal with only a maximum of 19% of the smoke and that is probably an acceptable amount, even for the pregnant lady in the back seat.
Everyone was sitting calmly, minding their own business, except for two ladies at the back; they were discussing their cheap neighbor who decided not to pay extra 2,844 L.E for her daughter’s wedding makeup artist, and how that daughter protested by threatening to jump off the building. Maybe makeup plans then would cost her more if she successfully achieves that threat.
I was watching the street and tried to think about my interview. How to introduce myself in less than two minutes, and how not to freak out if I was asked about those sweet little white lies in my resume. The street was calm and traffic was fine. Daily life continued outside our vehicle and I always enjoyed watching it from that moving point of view. Some of the polite smoke came my way. I turned my face back inside the bus. I had already blocked the two ladies cheapskate discussion with my headphones. They never seemed to stop talking at any point during the whole day. The other minding-their-own-business passengers seemed to silently mind other people business too, on their smartphones, except for the pregnant lady who was sharing the view of the street with me. The driver was minding the street business very well, he seemed like the pilot of a spaceship flying us to the next galaxy where we can find alternative sources of energy, job opportunities, and affordable makeup plans.
I noticed the driver is checking out some girls passing by as we reached a traffic light. He kept looking at them, studying their entities, carefully, with a solid impression on his face. I looked back to the other side of the street. Traffic was regretting being nice all that time and now slowly getting back in form. Our moving point of view had temporarily stopped on a single frame.
On the sidewalk, there was a half-empty local café house. People sitting still drinking their morning tea or coffee and exchanging thoughtful judgmental looks with anyone or anything within their sight.
I made eye contact with a man in the café. What are you doing there old man? What failing dreams from your past life that got you here looking at me at this moment instead of looking at a beautiful girl on a yacht cruising in the Caribbean. The eye contact got broken by a girl in a floral blouse. Our eyes, mine and the man’s shaped the base of a triangle while the beautiful walking girl was the triangle head. I thought what a dream of being with that girl on that yacht in the Caribbean without having that man there of course! She walked making life brighter for everyone. If I wasn’t going to that interview, I’d be still watching her walking away, regretting not speaking to her at all. Dreaming of me and her having our first dinner, the first walk, and the first goodbye till the last argument of the relationship that didn’t end with cuddling and watching the sunset. She’s just leaving like the smoke of our driver cigarette, with 0% of her existence left in my world, but maybe a 19% of her image temporarily implanted in my head.
I came back to reality as the traffic light turned green. The driver pressed the gas while his head came back rotating ninety degrees away from the sidewalk on his left where the girls of his daydreams were walking. A loud noise of breaks, broke the brightness of the morning and everything in my perspective turned to slow-motion. My body flew outside the bus as I became like an astronaut unwillingly leaving our spaceship. I could see a surprised look on the café man’s face and a ghostly smile, as my body finally hit the ground and everything came back to normal speed.
It’s rare to have just the sky filling your entire field of vision in the middle of a busy city street. A joyful moment to see the clouds with the gradient blues. That beautiful scene was interrupted by faces popping up from everywhere and slowly some hands were coming closer to me. I felt some pain on my back after I stood up but I was very mad when I realized that my suit was touching the ground all that time. Looking at the beautiful sky in the middle of a city street while you’re lying on your back comes at a price.
Now I could see our bus front had more than just a touch with another bus in the crossroads and I could hear and see the two drivers discussing what happened like gentlemen. They were close to each other exchanging creative adjectives for each other ancestors. I checked my watch and it was 8:27; an alternative transportation had to be found immediately to take me to the interview where my plans for a better future will begin. I would make tons of money, buy the entire city, and come here every day to lay on the ground and watch the sky.
I had to cross the street leaving the scene flaming still between the drivers. I reached into my pocket for my phone and it was not there. I checked the rest of my pockets and nothing but I found an old gum stick. I moved back to where I was lying on the ground and started looking for my beloved phone. Insults were still being thrown around and the crowd kept getting bigger and bigger. The street traffic was in paralysis. I couldn’t find any familiar faces that I saw earlier to ask about the phone. I was in despair and my world was collapsing with the rhythm of the chewed strawberry gum in my mouth. A pair of old shoes stopped near me, I looked up and it was my triangle companion.
The old man from the café was there holding my phone and handing it to me. We were in a frame like “The Creation of Adam” painting. Now I would gladly give up the imaginary yacht in the Caribbean for this man, but only the yacht, not the girl, he didn’t save my life anyway.
I thanked the man very sincerely and turned around to find both of us in the middle of the scene. It has been gradually moving towards us by the forces of the universe and it became violent as some of the other people who got stuck in the street because of the fight joined in initially to solve the situation, but later they became a part of it. The snowball kept getting bigger till insults were developed into punches. A man thought his mom’s beliefs were in question when a random insult flew from a random mouth inside the snowball and landed in his ear, even though he wasn’t the intended person with the description. The man threw a punch which was intended to land somewhere on the face of his insulter, but somehow it drifted and hit another face. Exponentially punches and kicks started growing. Seconds passed and a random punch landed on the face of my old man. It’d have been the fifth shot on a top ten list of best random old people knockouts of the year. It was sad. The man dropped to the ground instantly. Standing helplessly in shock, I just held the man and walked few steps to the café as the waiter there helped me to sit him on a chair and try to wake him up while investigating the damage on his face. It was a red mark on his right side. The man finally opened his eyes after moments of worries for us waiting for him to come back to this beautiful world and live more of it. He didn’t need to leave with just one punch and get bullied in the waiting line of the judgment day by some insecure pretentious dead who brag about their more fancy tragic endings.
It was 8:58 and I thought I should call to cancel the interview and while I was into my thoughts I saw the old man crying, the tears were on his cheeks falling slowly. I couldn’t bear it. I handed him a glass of water and left him with the waiter as I rushed to the snowball of conflict which continued growing so much bigger and getting noisier.
I spotted the one who mistakenly punched the old man still battling inside. I jumped in and stood in front of the man, punches and kicks were all around me. I looked him in the eyes and took a swing. The punch took longer than I expected to land on the man’s face. He didn’t seem like an evil person at all, His face was normal and he was in formal clothes, probably he was late on something important and his nerves couldn’t stand the pressure. He probably has been doing great on anger management. How many times had he kept smiling or pretending that everything was okay when his boss mistreated him, or when lost some money, or when his wife showed greater enthusiasm for shopping than for his achievements. It was just the day he couldn’t hold it in anymore and probably 19% of that rage came as a punch on an old man’s face by mistake in a traffic fight.
My punch landed on the man’s face and I thought that’d be enough and now I will leave, my job was done there. But this wasn't something you could walk away from that easily. A fight doesn’t end with leaving your opponent angry and conscious. The pain spread from the edge of my fist to my arm, all the way to my entire body. I don’t remember the last time I punched someone in real life. It’s not as entertaining as it seems when you do it in a video game. I wasn’t planning on getting punched or kicked when I woke up this morning the odds of that would be less than running into the girl with the floral blouse again, but at that moment the odds were high for receiving punches and still low for meeting the girl again. The man absorbed the punch and looked back to me and took a swing. I managed to dodge his punch, but his other hand came faster. My face got rocked by his fist. We continued fighting in a way that would make our ancestors in the evolution tree very proud.
I got tired and I didn’t have any time to catch my breath and my competitor apparently felt the same. Right before we decide to come terms with ending this, the man got a knockout from a random hand away from mine. I saw him falling to the ground, and saw two police officers coming from across the street. I thought about getting the knocked down man out of the fight, but with my bruises and pain, it took me longer to put that thought into action. When I finally decided to do it I got a hard punch and I saw the ground rushing to my face.
There was no sky. I was standing in a line of people, with other lines to my right and left. Initially I could not identify any of the faces. What are we waiting for? I saw the passengers of my bus in a line far away, on another line I saw Mr. Naguib is still arguing about the air conditioner and in the line next to him were Dr. Sherif and the workers. I glimpsed the old man from the cafe in another line. I walked to him and asked if he was feeling okay; there were no bruises or marks on his face. He wasn’t crying. He smiled and told me that I shouldn’t have joined the snowball, and he wasn’t crying he just suffers from an allergy that makes his eyes tearful sometime.
Far away from the infinite lines, I saw the fight still going, it was still crowded. The two police officers approached the crowd. I saw myself still fighting in there, throwing and receiving punches and kicks. As the officers reached the scene, the fight snowball dissolved. It was only me, the two drivers and the guy I had been fighting.
The officers didn’t speak, they just looked at the four of us, and suddenly the other three men pointed at me. The officers looked at me and reached their pockets, pulled out their guns and pointed it at my face. I could see the old man at the café looking at me with a visible smile on his face. I heard the sound of a gunshot, I wasn’t sure if the sound came once or twice.
The sky came back again and it was still blue, I was sitting on a chair on the café, my face was a bit wet and my back hurt a little bit. The street looked fine, traffic was okay. I was alone, with a cup of hot tea with mint on the table. I checked my watch it was 9:30, my phone was there with a dead battery. I just spent the next couple of hours enjoying tea and coffee and watching the street.
On my way back home I stopped to buy some groceries. At the checkout I saw a girl walking in, she was in a blue floral blouse but it wasn’t the other girl I saw earlier with the similar outfit. Blue floral blouses are beautiful but it doesn’t make people the same. I walked towards our building and saw Mrs. Riad heading the entrance, so I rushed my walk. Few steps before the entrance I heard an instant crash behind me. I looked back and saw Dr. Sherif’s air conditioner down on the ground two steps behind my back. I had to give credit to Dr. Sherif’s workers for keeping that piece steady long enough time, and for Mr. Naguib who considered giving them that time to do their job incompletely enough.
I did catch Mrs. Riad at the elevator, I stepped in and the perfume was as beautiful as always. I pressed the third and eighth floor buttons for both of us. She thanked me as we exchanged smiles. She looked beautiful and so did the world.
The End.