on the floor in the balcony, out of sight, while we huddled in the main room to discuss the wretched circumstances we found ourselves in. Amm Attia had set the shisha up before we arrived and only stopped in to refresh the coal every now and then. Omar had the pipe and was taking puffs solely out of a sense of duty, his full attention fixated on toying with the hose and avoiding as much of our conversation as possible. There was no tranquility tonight, no dreamlike discussion of the mundane and the supernatural. The walls did not breathe but stared at us with a foreboding judgment. Our raised voices did not shake them, only deepened their silent sneer.
“You cannot expect me to lay down my life for a khawaga, a fucking foreigner,” Ismail spat. “Every minute he lies on our floor puts us in danger. Do you know what will happen if State Security finds him?”
“You brainless sheep of a man,” Youssef roared back. “Have they wiped your mind so clean you believe every pale man is a spy? You don’t deserve the brain God gave you.”
“You see!” Ismail yelled, getting to his feet and whirling on Youssef. “The Zionist scum is already dividing us.”
“You divided us!” Youssef screamed, hurling himself at the bearded man. The shisha toppled to the floor, spilling lit coals across the wooden boards. The overpowering humidity quenched their spark in an instant but the crash snapped Omar out of his reverie. He stepped in and encircled Youssef in a crushing bear hug yelling “No! Not like this!”
Youssef squirmed and wriggled, lashing out with feet and hands that whistled inches past Ismail’s impassive face. “You divided us when you said Copts were plotting the downfall of Egypt. You divided us when you joined the band of fucking dogs you call brothers. You divided us! You divided us!”