وَعْدُ الْأَخِ

فِي آخِرِ النَّهَارِ، كَانَ دَفْتَرُ لِينَا مَفْتُوحًا عَلَى الطَّاوِلَةِ. قَرَأَتْ مَا كَتَبَتْهُ قَبْلَ قَلِيلٍ: «أَسْأَلُ حَامِدًا عَمَّا مَعَهُ». أَغْلَقَتِ الدَّفْتَرَ، وَأَخَذَتْ حَقِيبَتَهَا الصَّغِيرَةَ.

Late in the day, Lina’s notebook lay open on the table. She read what she had written a short while earlier: “Ask Hamid what he has.” She closed the notebook and took her small bag.

كَانَتْ صَبَاحُ تَجْمَعُ الْأَكْوَابَ مِنْ طَاوِلَةِ الشَّايِ. سَأَلَتْ: «إِلَى أَيْنَ هَذِهِ الْمَرَّةَ؟» قَالَتْ لِينَا: «سَأَذْهَبُ إِلَى حَامِدٍ. لَدَيَّ سُؤَالٌ آخَرُ». تَنَهَّدَتْ أُمُّهَا، وَلَكِنَّهَا لَمْ تَمْنَعْهَا.

Sabah was gathering cups from the tea table. “Where to this time?” she asked. “I’m going to Hamid. I have another question,” Lina said. Her mother sighed, but did not stop her.

كَانَ مَكَانُ عَمَلِ حَامِدٍ عِنْدَ طَرَفِ السُّوقِ الْقَدِيمِ. لَمْ يَكُنْ دُكَّانًا كَبِيرًا؛ كَانَتْ هُنَاكَ طَاوِلَةٌ خَشَبِيَّةٌ، وَكُرْسِيَّانِ، وَصُنْدُوقٌ لِلْأَدَوَاتِ. وَفَوْقَ الْمَكَانِ سَقْفٌ صَغِيرٌ يُظِلُّهُ.

Hamid worked at the edge of the old market. It was not a large shop: there was a wooden table, two chairs, and a box for his tools. A small roof provided shade.

وَجَدَتْهُ لِينَا جَالِسًا أَمَامَ كُرْسِيٍّ قَصِيرٍ. كَانَتْ إِحْدَى رِجْلَيِ الْكُرْسِيِّ تَتَحَرَّكُ، وَكَانَ يُحَاوِلُ أَنْ يُصْلِحَهَا. لَمْ يَرْفَعْ رَأْسَهُ عِنْدَمَا سَمِعَ خُطُوَاتِهَا.

Lina found him seated in front of a short stool. One of its legs was loose, and he was trying to repair it. He did not lift his head when he heard her footsteps.

قَالَ: «إِذَا جِئْتِ بِكُرْسِيٍّ آخَرَ، فَضَعِيهِ هُنَاكَ. أَمَّا هَذَا، فَلَمْ يَتَّفِقْ مَعَ رِجْلِهِ بَعْدُ». ضَحِكَتْ لِينَا وَقَالَتْ: «لَيْسَ مَعِي كُرْسِيٌّ. مَعِي سُؤَالٌ».

“If you’ve brought another chair, leave it there. This one still hasn’t made peace with its own leg,” he said. Lina laughed. “I haven’t brought a chair. I’ve brought a question.”

رَفَعَ حَامِدٌ رَأْسَهُ أَخِيرًا. «آهْ، لِينَا صَاحِبَةُ اللَّوْحَاتِ! أَهْلًا بِكِ. أَيُّهُمَا أَصْعَبُ الْيَوْمَ: الْحُرُوفُ أَمِ النَّاسُ؟» أَجَابَتْ: «النَّاسُ، عَلَى مَا أَظُنُّ».

Hamid finally looked up. “Ah, Lina the sign painter! Welcome. Which is harder today: letters or people?” “People, I think,” she replied.

مَسَحَ يَدَيْهِ بِقِطْعَةِ قُمَاشٍ، ثُمَّ أَشَارَ إِلَى الْكُرْسِيِّ الْآخَرِ. «اِجْلِسِي. لَكِنْ لَا تَجْلِسِي عَلَى هَذَا بَعْدُ». جَلَسَتْ لِينَا حَيْثُ أَشَارَ، وَانْتَظَرَتْ حَتَّى وَضَعَ أَدَاتَهُ عَلَى الطَّاوِلَةِ.

He wiped his hands on a cloth and pointed to the other chair. “Sit down—but not on this one yet.” Lina sat where he indicated and waited until he set his tool on the table.

سَأَلَهَا: «هَلْ جِئْتِ بِخَبَرٍ عَنْ لَوْحَةِ الْبَابِ السَّادِسِ؟» قَالَتْ: «لَمْ أَكْتُبْ عَلَيْهَا اسْمًا جَدِيدًا بَعْدُ. أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَفْهَمَ لِمَنْ هَذَا الْبَابُ».

“Have you come with news about the sign for Door Six?” he asked. “I haven’t painted a new name on it yet. I want to understand who the stall belongs to,” she said.

تَغَيَّرَ وَجْهُ حَامِدٍ قَلِيلًا. «قَالَتْ لِي أُخْتِي إِنَّ الْبَابَ لِي. وَهِيَ لَا تَقُولُ هَذَا مِنْ غَيْرِ سَبَبٍ». قَالَتْ لِينَا بِهُدُوءٍ: «هَلْ عِنْدَكَ وَرَقَةٌ تَقُولُ ذَلِكَ؟»

Hamid’s expression changed slightly. “My sister told me the stall is mine. She wouldn’t say that for no reason.” Lina asked calmly, “Do you have a paper saying so?”

نَظَرَ حَامِدٌ إِلَى صُنْدُوقِهِ، ثُمَّ قَامَ وَفَتَحَ دُرْجًا صَغِيرًا فِي الطَّاوِلَةِ. أَخْرَجَ وَرَقَةً مَطْوِيَّةً، وَفَرَدَهَا بِعِنَايَةٍ. «عِنْدِي هَذِهِ. اِقْرَئِيهَا بِنَفْسِكِ».

Hamid glanced toward his box, then stood and opened a small drawer in the table. He took out a folded sheet and smoothed it carefully. “I have this. Read it yourself.”

كَانَتِ الْوَرَقَةُ أَجْدَدَ مِنْ وَرَقَةِ أَمَلَ الَّتِي رَأَتْهَا لِينَا بَعْدَ الظُّهْرِ. وَفِي أَعْلَاهَا كَانَ تَارِيخٌ أَقْرَبُ إِلَى الْيَوْمِ. وَتَحْتَ التَّارِيخِ كُتِبَتْ جُمْلَةٌ وَاضِحَةٌ.

The sheet was newer than Amal’s paper, which Lina had seen after noon. The date at the top was more recent. Beneath it was a clear sentence.

قَرَأَتْ لِينَا الْكَلِمَاتِ بِصَوْتٍ مُنْخَفِضٍ: «أَنَا، خَدِيجَةُ، أَعِدُ حَامِدًا بِالْبَابِ السَّادِسِ فِي السُّوقِ الْجَدِيدِ». وَقَرَأَتِ التَّارِيخَ وَتَوْقِيعَ خَدِيجَةَ. لَمْ تَجِدْ اسْمَ أَمَلَ فِي الْوَرَقَةِ.

Lina read the words quietly: “I, Khadija, promise Hamid Door Six in the new market.” She read the date and Khadija’s signature. Amal’s name did not appear on the paper.

سَأَلَتْ: «مَتَى أَعْطَتْكَ أُخْتُكَ هَذِهِ الْوَرَقَةَ؟» قَالَ: «قَبْلَ أَسَابِيعَ. قَبْلَ أَنْ يَضَعُوا الْقَائِمَةَ الْجَدِيدَةَ عَلَى الْحَائِطِ». وَأَشَارَ بِإِصْبَعِهِ إِلَى التَّارِيخِ.

“When did your sister give you this?” Lina asked. “Weeks ago, before they put the new list on the wall.” He pointed to the date with his finger.

رَأَتْ لِينَا أَنَّ التَّارِيخَ جَاءَ بَعْدَ تَارِيخِ وَرَقَةِ أَمَلَ. كَانَ بَيْنَ التَّارِيخَيْنِ أَكْثَرُ مِنْ شَهْرٍ. وَمَعَ ذَلِكَ، فَكِلْتَاهُمَا تَذْكُرُ الْبَابَ نَفْسَهُ.

Lina saw that this date came after the date on Amal’s paper. More than a month separated the two documents. Yet both referred to the same stall.

أَعَادَتِ الْوَرَقَةَ إِلَى حَامِدٍ. قَالَتْ: «لَا أَقُولُ إِنَّ هَذِهِ الْوَرَقَةَ كَاذِبَةٌ. وَلَكِنِّي رَأَيْتُ الْيَوْمَ وَرَقَةً أُخْرَى». تَوَقَّفَ عَنْ طَيِّهَا وَنَظَرَ إِلَيْهَا.

She handed the paper back to Hamid. “I’m not saying this paper is false. But today I saw another one.” He stopped folding it and looked at her.

«وَرَقَةُ مَنْ؟» سَأَلَ. «وَرَقَةُ أَمَلَ. فِيهَا اسْمُهَا وَالْبَابُ السَّادِسُ، وَفِيهَا تَوْقِيعَانِ». سَكَتَ حَامِدٌ لَحْظَةً، ثُمَّ قَالَ: «رُبَّمَا كَانَتْ وَرَقَتُهَا قَدِيمَةً».

“Whose paper?” he asked. “Amal’s. It has her name, Door Six, and two signatures.” Hamid was silent for a moment. “Perhaps her paper is old,” he said.

قَالَتْ لِينَا: «نَعَمْ، هِيَ أَقْدَمُ مِنْ وَرَقَتِكَ. لَكِنَّ أَمَلَ تَقُولُ إِنَّهَا لَمْ تُوَافِقْ عَلَى تَغْيِيرِ الْبَابِ». ضَغَطَ حَامِدٌ بِإِبْهَامِهِ عَلَى طَرَفِ الْوَرَقَةِ.

“Yes, it is older than yours. But Amal says she did not agree to change stalls.” Hamid pressed his thumb against the edge of his paper.

«خَدِيجَةُ قَالَتْ لِي إِنَّ أَمَلَ سَتَأْخُذُ الْبَابَ التَّاسِعَ، وَإِنَّ الْأَمْرَ قَدِ انْتَهَى». لَمْ يَرْفَعْ صَوْتَهُ. قَالَ الْكَلِمَاتِ كَأَنَّهُ يُرِيدُ أَنْ يَسْمَعَهَا مَرَّةً أُخْرَى.

“Khadija told me Amal would take Door Nine, and that the matter was settled.” He did not raise his voice. He said the words as though he wanted to hear them again.

سَأَلَتْهُ لِينَا: «هَلْ تَكَلَّمْتَ مَعَ أَمَلَ عَنِ الْبَابَيْنِ؟» هَزَّ رَأْسَهُ. «لَا. لِمَاذَا أَفْعَلُ ذَلِكَ؟ أُخْتِي هِيَ الَّتِي تُنَظِّمُ الْعَمَلَ فِي السُّوقِ».

“Did you speak to Amal about the two stalls?” Lina asked. He shook his head. “No. Why would I? My sister is the one organising the market move.”

لَمْ تُجِبْ لِينَا فَوْرًا. كَانَ جَوَابُهُ مَفْهُومًا، وَلَكِنَّهُ لَمْ يُجِبْ عَنْ سُؤَالِ أَمَلَ. هَلْ يَكْفِي وَعْدُ شَخْصٍ وَاحِدٍ لِتَغْيِيرِ وَرَقَةٍ وَقَّعَ عَلَيْهَا شَخْصَانِ؟

Lina did not answer at once. His explanation was understandable, but it did not answer Amal’s question. Was one person’s promise enough to change a paper signed by two people?

وَقَفَ حَامِدٌ وَعَادَ إِلَى الْكُرْسِيِّ. حَرَّكَ رِجْلَهُ الْقَصِيرَةَ، ثُمَّ أَخَذَ مِطْرَقَةً صَغِيرَةً. ضَرَبَ الْخَشَبَ ضَرْبَتَيْنِ خَفِيفَتَيْنِ. سَمِعَتْ لِينَا الصَّوْتَ فِي الْمَكَانِ الْهَادِئِ.

Hamid stood and returned to the stool. He moved its short leg, then picked up a small hammer. He tapped the wood twice. Lina heard the sound in the quiet work area.

قَالَ مِنْ غَيْرِ أَنْ يَنْظُرَ إِلَيْهَا: «كَانَ لِي مَكَانٌ عِنْدَ الطَّرِيقِ الْكَبِيرِ. بَقِيتُ هُنَاكَ سَنَوَاتٍ. ثُمَّ طَلَبَ صَاحِبُ الْمَكَانِ أَنْ أَرْحَلَ. أَرَادَ أَنْ يَسْتَعْمِلَهُ لِنَفْسِهِ».

Without looking at her, he said, “I used to have a place by the main road. I worked there for years. Then the owner asked me to leave. He wanted to use the space himself.”

نَظَرَتْ لِينَا إِلَى صُنْدُوقِ الْأَدَوَاتِ وَالْكَرَاسِيِّ الْقَدِيمَةِ. قَالَ حَامِدٌ: «أَعْمَلُ هُنَا الْآنَ، وَلَكِنَّ الْمَكَانَ ضَيِّقٌ. عِنْدَ الْمَطَرِ أَنْقُلُ أَشْيَائِي مِنْ جِهَةٍ إِلَى أُخْرَى».

Lina looked at the tool box and the old chairs. “I work here now,” Hamid said, “but it’s cramped. When it rains, I move my things from one side to the other.”

«وَهَلْ بَحَثْتَ عَنْ مَكَانٍ آخَرَ؟» سَأَلَتْ. «بَحَثْتُ، وَلَكِنَّ الْمَالَ الَّذِي مَعِي لَيْسَ كَثِيرًا. كَانَتْ أُخْتِي تَعْرِفُ ذَلِكَ. وَفِي يَوْمٍ قَالَتْ: عِنْدِي لَكَ خَبَرٌ طَيِّبٌ».

“Did you look for another place?” she asked. “I did, but I don’t have much money. My sister knew that. One day she said, ‘I have good news for you.’”

لَمْ يَضْحَكْ وَهُوَ يَحْكِي ذَلِكَ. «لَا أُحِبُّ أَنْ أَطْلُبَ مِنْ أُخْتِي كُلَّ شَيْءٍ. هِيَ أُخْتِي الْكُبْرَى، وَلَكِنَّنِي لَسْتُ طِفْلًا». وَأَعَادَ الْمِطْرَقَةَ إِلَى الصُّنْدُوقِ.

He did not laugh as he told her. “I don’t like asking my sister for everything. She’s my older sister, but I’m not a child.” He put the hammer back in its box.

وَصَلَ زَبُونٌ بِكُرْسِيٍّ صَغِيرٍ، وَسَأَلَ حَامِدًا عَنْ ثَمَنِ إِصْلَاحِهِ. نَظَرَ حَامِدٌ إِلَى رِجْلِ الْكُرْسِيِّ، ثُمَّ ذَكَرَ ثَمَنًا بَسِيطًا. لَمْ يَطْلُبْ مِنَ الرَّجُلِ أَنْ يَدْفَعَ قَبْلَ أَنْ يَنْتَهِيَ الْعَمَلُ.

A customer arrived with a small chair and asked what the repair would cost. Hamid examined its leg and named a modest price. He did not ask the man to pay before the job was finished.

بَعْدَ أَنْ ذَهَبَ الزَّبُونُ، قَالَ حَامِدٌ: «هَذَا مَا أُحِبُّهُ فِي عَمَلِي. أَعْرِفُ مَا هُوَ مَكْسُورٌ، وَأَسْتَطِيعُ أَنْ أُصْلِحَهُ». نَظَرَ إِلَى وَرَقَتِهِ، وَأَضَافَ: «أَمَّا الْبَابُ فَلَيْسَ كَذَلِكَ».

After the customer left, Hamid said, “That is what I like about my work. I can see what is broken, and I can repair it.” He looked at his paper and added, “This doorway is not like that.”

فَهِمَتْ لِينَا لِمَاذَا كَانَ وَعْدُ خَدِيجَةَ مُهِمًّا لَهُ. لَمْ يَكُنْ يَبْحَثُ عَنْ رَقْمٍ جَمِيلٍ عَلَى بَابٍ. كَانَ يُرِيدُ مَكَانًا يَضَعُ فِيهِ أَدَوَاتِهِ، وَيَسْتَقْبِلُ فِيهِ زَبَائِنَهُ.

Lina understood why Khadija’s promise mattered to him. He was not looking for an attractive number on a door. He wanted a place for his tools and his customers.

قَالَ حَامِدٌ: «اُنْظُرِي إِلَى هَذَا أَيْضًا». أَشَارَ إِلَى قِطَعٍ طَوِيلَةٍ مِنَ الْخَشَبِ وَضَعَهَا بِجَانِبِ الْحَائِطِ. كَانَتْ مُرَتَّبَةً عَلَى شَكْلِ رَفٍّ، وَلَكِنَّهُ لَمْ يُثَبِّتْهَا بَعْدُ.

“Look at this too,” Hamid said. He pointed to long pieces of wood against the wall. They were arranged into a shelf, but he had not fixed them together yet.

«قِسْتُ الْمَكَانَ عِنْدَ الْبَابِ السَّادِسِ. وَاشْتَرَيْتُ خَشَبًا يَكْفِي لِهَذَا الرَّفِّ. سَيَكُونُ لِأَدَوَاتِي وَالْأَشْيَاءِ الَّتِي أُصْلِحُهَا». مَرَّرَ يَدَهُ عَلَى إِحْدَى الْقِطَعِ.

“I measured the space at Door Six and bought enough wood for this shelf. It’ll hold my tools and the things I repair.” He ran his hand over one of the pieces.

سَأَلَتْ لِينَا: «وَهَلْ تَعْرِفُ إِنْ كَانَ الرَّفُّ يُنَاسِبُ بَابًا آخَرَ؟» أَجَابَ حَامِدٌ: «لَا أَعْرِفُ بَعْدُ. قِسْتُهُ لِلْبَابِ السَّادِسِ، وَلَمْ أُرَكِّبْهُ حَتَّى الْآنَ».

“Do you know whether the shelf would fit another door?” Lina asked. “Not yet,” Hamid replied. “I measured it for Door Six, and I still have not assembled it.”

ثُمَّ ابْتَسَمَ ابْتِسَامَةً صَغِيرَةً. «إِنْ كَانَ الرَّفُّ أَطْوَلَ مِنَ الْبَابِ، فَلَنْ أَقْنَعَهُ بِالْكَلَامِ. سَأَحْتَاجُ إِلَى الْمِنْشَارِ». ابْتَسَمَتْ لِينَا أَيْضًا، ثُمَّ نَظَرَتْ إِلَى الْقِطَعِ الْجَدِيدَةِ.

Then he gave a small smile. “If the shelf is longer than the doorway, talking won’t persuade it to fit. I’ll need the saw.” Lina smiled too, then looked at the new pieces.

بَدَأَتْ تَفْهَمُ أَنَّ هُنَاكَ خَسَارَةً مُمْكِنَةً لِكُلٍّ مِنْهُمَا. أَمَلُ تَحْتَاجُ إِلَى مَكَانٍ لِعَرَبَتِهَا الثَّقِيلَةِ. وَحَامِدٌ صَرَفَ مِنْ مَالِهِ عَلَى خَشَبٍ لَمْ يَسْتَعْمِلْهُ بَعْدُ.

Lina was beginning to understand that both of them could lose something. Amal needed a place for her heavy cart. Hamid had spent his own money on wood he had not yet used.

سَأَلَ حَامِدٌ: «هَلْ تَظُنِّينَ أَنَّ أُخْتِي كَذَبَتْ عَلَيَّ؟» كَانَ السُّؤَالُ مُبَاشِرًا. شَعَرَتْ لِينَا بِالْحَرَجِ، وَاخْتَارَتْ كَلِمَاتِهَا بِعِنَايَةٍ.

“Do you think my sister lied to me?” Hamid asked. The question was direct. Lina felt uncomfortable and chose her words carefully.

«لَا أَعْرِفُ مَا حَدَثَ بَيْنَهَا وَبَيْنَ أَمَلَ»، قَالَتْ. «أَعْرِفُ فَقَطْ أَنَّ أَمَلَ عِنْدَهَا وَرَقَةً، وَأَنَّكَ عِنْدَكَ وَرَقَةً أُخْرَى. وَأَنَّ الْبَابَ وَاحِدٌ».

“I don’t know what happened between her and Amal,” she said. “I only know Amal has one paper and you have another—and there is only one stall.”

حَرَّكَ حَامِدٌ الْكُرْسِيَّ عَلَى الْأَرْضِ. كَانَ ثَابِتًا هَذِهِ الْمَرَّةَ. قَالَ: «أُخْتِي تُسَاعِدُ النَّاسَ مِنْ سِنِينَ. أَنَا أَعْرِفُهَا». ثُمَّ صَمَتَ قَلِيلًا. «وَلَكِنِّي لَمْ أَسْأَلْ أَمَلَ بِنَفْسِي».

Hamid moved the stool across the floor. This time it was steady. “My sister has helped people for years. I know her.” Then he fell quiet. “But I never asked Amal myself.”

قَالَتْ لِينَا: «لَا أَطْلُبُ مِنْكَ أَنْ تَتْرُكَ الْبَابَ الْيَوْمَ. وَلَا أَسْتَطِيعُ أَنْ أَعِدَكَ بِهِ. أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَعْرِفَ كَيْفَ يُغَيِّرُ الْمَكْتَبُ أَسْمَاءَ التُّجَّارِ فِي الْأَوْرَاقِ».

“I’m not asking you to give up the stall today,” Lina said. “And I can’t promise it to you either. I want to know how the office changes traders’ names in its records.”

نَظَرَ إِلَيْهَا حَامِدٌ بِدَهْشَةٍ. «أَلَا يَكْفِي تَوْقِيعُ خَدِيجَةَ؟» قَالَتْ: «لَا أَعْرِفُ إِنْ كَانَ يَكْفِي. هَذَا مَا يَجِبُ أَنْ نَسْأَلَ عَنْهُ».

Hamid looked surprised. “Isn’t Khadija’s signature enough?” “I don’t know whether it is,” Lina said. “That is exactly what we need to ask.”

طَوَى حَامِدٌ وَرَقَتَهُ وَأَعَادَهَا إِلَى الدُّرْجِ. ثُمَّ أَغْلَقَ الدُّرْجَ بِبُطْءٍ. «سَأَتَكَلَّمُ مَعَ أُخْتِي»، قَالَ. «لَمْ أَتَوَقَّعْ أَنْ يَصِيرَ الْأَمْرُ هَكَذَا».

Hamid folded his paper and put it back in the drawer. He closed the drawer slowly. “I’ll speak to my sister,” he said. “I didn’t expect it to turn out like this.”

سَأَلَ بَعْدَ ذَلِكَ: «وَهَلْ سَتَكْتُبِينَ اسْمِي عَلَى اللَّوْحَةِ؟» أَجَابَتْ لِينَا: «لَيْسَ الْآنَ. أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَفْهَمَ الْأَمْرَ قَبْلَ أَنْ أُغَيِّرَ اسْمًا عَلَى بَابٍ».

Then he asked, “Will you paint my name on the sign?” “Not yet,” Lina replied. “I want to understand the matter before I change a name on a door.”

هَزَّ حَامِدٌ رَأْسَهُ، وَلَمْ يُحَاوِلْ أَنْ يُقْنِعَهَا. أَخَذَ الْكُرْسِيَّ الَّذِي أَصْلَحَهُ وَجَلَسَ عَلَيْهِ. قَالَ: «عَلَى الْأَقَلِّ، هَذَا الْكُرْسِيُّ يَقِفُ وَحْدَهُ الْآنَ».

Hamid nodded and did not try to persuade her. He took the repaired stool and sat on it. “At least this stool can stand on its own now,” he said.

ضَحِكَتْ لِينَا ضَحْكَةً خَفِيفَةً. ثُمَّ شَكَرَتْهُ عَلَى الْوَقْتِ وَالْوَرَقَةِ. قَالَ: «إِذَا عَرَفْتِ مَا يَجِبُ أَنْ نَفْعَلَهُ، فَأَخْبِرِينِي. أَنَا لَا أُحِبُّ أَنْ أَبْنِيَ رَفًّا لِبَابٍ لَيْسَ لِي».

Lina gave a small laugh. She thanked him for his time and for showing her the paper. “If you learn what we should do, tell me,” he said. “I don’t like building a shelf for a stall that isn’t mine.”

خَرَجَتْ لِينَا مِنْ مَكَانِهِ، وَكَانَ الضَّوْءُ يَضْعُفُ فَوْقَ السُّوقِ. مَرَّتْ بِجَانِبِ صَنَادِيقِ الْخُضْرَوَاتِ الْفَارِغَةِ. رَأَتْ أَمَلَ مِنْ بَعِيدٍ تَجْمَعُ أَشْيَاءَهَا، وَلَمْ تَذْهَبْ لِتُكَلِّمَهَا مِنْ جَدِيدٍ.

Lina left his work area as the light over the market was fading. She passed empty vegetable crates. In the distance she saw Amal gathering her things, but did not go to speak to her again.

عِنْدَ طَاوِلَتِهَا، وَجَدَتْ صَبَاحَ تَضَعُ آخِرَ كُوبٍ فِي الصُّنْدُوقِ. سَأَلَتْ أُمُّهَا: «هَلْ وَجَدْتِ جَوَابَكِ؟» قَالَتْ لِينَا: «وَجَدْتُ وَرَقَةً أُخْرَى». نَظَرَتْ صَبَاحُ إِلَيْهَا، ثُمَّ قَالَتْ: «هَذَا لَيْسَ جَوَابًا».

Back at her table, she found Sabah putting the last cup into a box. “Did you find your answer?” her mother asked. “I found another paper.” Sabah looked at her. “That’s not an answer.”

ابْتَسَمَتْ لِينَا، لِأَنَّ أُمَّهَا كَانَتْ عَلَى حَقٍّ. فَتَحَتْ دَفْتَرَهَا، وَكَتَبَتْ: «وَرَقَةُ أَمَلَ أَقْدَمُ. وَعْدُ حَامِدٍ أَحْدَثُ. كِلَاهُمَا عَنِ الْبَابِ السَّادِسِ».

Lina smiled, because her mother was right. She opened her notebook and wrote: “Amal’s paper is older. Hamid’s promise is newer. Both concern Door Six.”

ثُمَّ كَتَبَتْ سُؤَالًا وَاحِدًا تَحْتَ السَّطْرِ: «إِذَا تَغَيَّرَ صَاحِبُ الْبَابِ، فَأَيْنَ وَرَقَةُ التَّغْيِيرِ؟» لَمْ تَضَعْ تَحْتَهُ اسْمَ أَحَدٍ. كَانَتْ تُرِيدُ أَنْ تَسْأَلَ فِي الْمَكْتَبِ غَدًا.

Then she wrote a single question beneath the line: “If the stall was reassigned, where is the paper recording the change?” She wrote no one’s name under it. She intended to ask at the office tomorrow.

أَغْلَقَتِ الدَّفْتَرَ، وَنَظَرَتْ إِلَى لَوْحَةِ أَمَلَ عِنْدَ الْحَائِطِ. لَمْ تَحْتَجْ إِلَى أَنْ تَمْحُوَ حَرْفًا وَاحِدًا هَذَا الْمَسَاءَ. أَمَّا السُّؤَالُ الَّذِي كَتَبَتْهُ، فَلَمْ تَعْرِفْ بَعْدُ مَنْ سَيُجِيبُ عَنْهُ.

She closed the notebook and looked at Amal’s sign against the wall. That evening she did not need to erase a single letter. But she still did not know who would answer the question she had written.