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NAEL EL-TOUKHY * * * The following morning, Heliopolis was all but deserted. In front of the cinema at Roxy, the three machos met. They shook hands quickly then went their separate ways. Macho Sayed headed in the direction of Korba Street and Thawra Street, Macho Louai towards Hegaz Street and Macho Zakariya set off for Gesr el-Suez. Let us follow Macho Louai for the moment, the sensitive one, in Hegaz Street. He walked just a few metres before he spotted a girl near the wall of Merryland Park, trying to stop a taxi. She had a lighter in her right hand. He got closer. He lit a cigarette and stood next to her. He asked: “Cigarette?” She didn’t reply. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and waved it around in front of her face. She didn’t understand whether he was offering her a cigarette, flirting with her, or taunting her with the fact that he had a cigarette and she didn’t. She moved a few steps away and suddenly he screamed: “You bitch!” He grabbed her arm, yelling: “Why are you running away from me? You dirty, nasty, low-life bitch!” The girl tried to run but he tightened his grip and, with the other hand, started unzipping his trousers. He clutched where his penis lay underneath the red boxers covered in roses and teddy bears. “Don’t you want it?You want to bet you don’t want it?” Quite simply, she used the lighter in her right hand. She lit the flame and brought it close to his crotch. Macho Louai stood dumbfounded. He let her go and she ran far away, screaming. As for the smell of burning fabric, along with an underlying scent of roast penis flesh, it rose and filled the whole of Hegaz Street. The boxers were worth thirty pounds, the penis flesh a little more. Macho Louai sat down heavily on the pavement and buried his face in his hands, wailing: “Why do they do that? Why do they do that?” * * * Macho Zakariya, on the other hand, had only one thought on his mind and that was revenge on Gigi – the girl who had refused his great love in high school fifteen years ago. He decided that day to smash her head in with a giant hammer, to twist her eyeballs out of their sockets and crush them under his shoes. He would hang her up on a dartboard and use her for target practice with white-hot iron nails, then he would soak her body in concentrated sulphuric acid. 86 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES
page 89
NAEL EL-TOUKHY Concentrated sulphuric acid played the starring role in Macho Zakariya’s fantasies, no contest. A massive tub, deep, endless, a tub like a lake, filled with concentrated sulphuric acid. The girls would line up all around it and Macho Zakariya would take aim at them with a gun. One by one, they would fall into the depths of the lake and their bodies would dissolve into nothing. But because this lake was not on hand in this miserable life of ours in the land of Egypt, Macho Zakariya decided to make do with the available means. He went out to Gesr el-Suez Street with two pistols, one in each palm, his arms outrstretched, like a hero in a Western. He opened fire – bang bang bang – in two parallel directions. Five girls fell to the pavement in pools of their own blood, along with two older women. It was epic. The most epic of all the epics. There were many cases recorded that day of murder, rape and sexual harassment of girls and multiple reports filed at police stations, but the police had other things to do.The police were being defeated by crowds of protesters in streets all over Egypt. * * * Once again, the three machos sat around at the café in Korba: Macho Sayed, Macho Zakariya and Macho Louai. Macho Sayed reported that he’d slept with around ten girls today. He went in there, all oohs and aahs, sweet nothings and tall tales and they fell for him straightaway. He then broke his SIM card and bought himself a new mobile phone number. Macho Louai and Macho Zakariya stared at him, mouths open in astonishment. What Macho Sayed had said was true greatness – it deserved bowing before. Macho Zakariya wanted to make sure he’d heard the number correctly. “Ten times, Macho?” “Ten times, Macho,” he said with a smile that oozed confidence. Macho Louai, who had decided to be Macho Sayed’s lifelong disciple, now found himself unable to hide his resentment at his master. “I’m sorry, my dear Macho Sayed, but that’s cheating.” “Cheating? What do you mean, cheating?” “Cheating. Cheating. Cheating means cheating.” Macho Sayed did not respond. “Look, Macho Sayed.You told us we have to nail all the girls.You didn’t say we have to sleep with them.” BANIPAL 43 – SPRING 2012 87

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NAEL EL-TOUKHY

* * *

The following morning, Heliopolis was all but deserted. In front of the cinema at Roxy, the three machos met. They shook hands quickly then went their separate ways. Macho Sayed headed in the direction of Korba Street and Thawra Street, Macho Louai towards Hegaz Street and Macho Zakariya set off for Gesr el-Suez.

Let us follow Macho Louai for the moment, the sensitive one, in Hegaz Street. He walked just a few metres before he spotted a girl near the wall of Merryland Park, trying to stop a taxi. She had a lighter in her right hand.

He got closer. He lit a cigarette and stood next to her. He asked: “Cigarette?” She didn’t reply. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and waved it around in front of her face. She didn’t understand whether he was offering her a cigarette, flirting with her, or taunting her with the fact that he had a cigarette and she didn’t. She moved a few steps away and suddenly he screamed: “You bitch!” He grabbed her arm, yelling: “Why are you running away from me? You dirty, nasty, low-life bitch!”

The girl tried to run but he tightened his grip and, with the other hand, started unzipping his trousers. He clutched where his penis lay underneath the red boxers covered in roses and teddy bears. “Don’t you want it?You want to bet you don’t want it?” Quite simply, she used the lighter in her right hand. She lit the flame and brought it close to his crotch. Macho Louai stood dumbfounded. He let her go and she ran far away, screaming. As for the smell of burning fabric, along with an underlying scent of roast penis flesh, it rose and filled the whole of Hegaz Street. The boxers were worth thirty pounds, the penis flesh a little more. Macho Louai sat down heavily on the pavement and buried his face in his hands, wailing: “Why do they do that? Why do they do that?”

* * *

Macho Zakariya, on the other hand, had only one thought on his mind and that was revenge on Gigi – the girl who had refused his great love in high school fifteen years ago. He decided that day to smash her head in with a giant hammer, to twist her eyeballs out of their sockets and crush them under his shoes. He would hang her up on a dartboard and use her for target practice with white-hot iron nails, then he would soak her body in concentrated sulphuric acid.

86 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES

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