I Sweep the Sun Off Rooftops Read Free Page B

others calling up the spirits and talking to the dead. But those days when I was bursting with life had passed. Nowthat I was moribund, I had no desire to spend time with others like me, and being a spectator at such activities required too much effort.
    However, Tante Samia and Nazik considered my presence as an indication that I was happy to participate, and Tante Samia told me to place my index finger on the rim of the cup. She recited some verses from the Quran while Nazik put her finger on the other side of the cup, which appeared to be imprisoned inside the circle on the board. Then Samia summoned my mother’s spirit.
    “If you’re there, say yes,” she called.
    The cup moved, making a slight whispering sound, and my finger moved with it. It came to rest on the word
yes.
Tante Samia’s features relaxed and she cried, “I’ve really missed you, Amina.”
    “You shouldn’t say you’ve missed her,” whispered Nazik. “It’s bad luck.”
    “Hallo, Amina. It’s been a long time,” continued Samia. “Today we had a celebration for you. They named the place where you used to live after you. The whole of Cairo was jumping. All the ministers and their deputies were there, and there were flags in the street, and music.”
    She winked at me, as if to apologize for her exaggerations, or rather her lies, and then went on, “Can you hear me?” The cup moved again to the word yes.
    “Congratulations! Many congratulations!”
    Then Tante Samia went on talking as if she were on the telephone. Her red lipstick looked ridiculous. I pictured my mother getting fed up with her: her spirit would be yawning by now. Tante Samia went on without any change in her tone, “We’re in your daughter’s house. Yes, she’s here with us, she’ll say hallo. But, tell me, are you pleased about the
    The cup moved to
yes
, and then to the letters
V-E-R-Y.
    “What did she say?” Tante Samia asked us, trying to follow the cup. When her face was almost touching the board, Nazik pushed it away and shouted, “She says she’s very pleased.”
    Tante Samia then put her finger on the cup to take my place. “Your turn now, dear,” she said.
    I forced a few tears out and shook my head.
    “Your daughter seems upset,” she resumed. “Never mind. You can go away now, Amina.”
    She recited a few more verses from the Quran, then the timbre of her voice changed as she said, almost crossly, “Come on, Nazik, it’s your turn, and then mine again.”
    Nazik looked unenthusiastic, but called upon her mother’s spirit a couple of times before saying in a hopeless voice, “I knew there wouldn’t be an answer. Perhaps her spirit’s lost or something.”
    It was true, the cup was motionless on the board. She tried again. She exhaled noisily, then said, “What if I summon that man who appeared to us once before? What was his name? Fadil.”
    “What man? Who’s Fadil?” demanded Tante Samia impatiently.
    “The man who answered us by mistake when I was summoning my mother’s spirit. The last time we tried it.”
    “Oh, I remember,” said Tante Samia in a bored voice.
    Nazik called on him again to ask about her mother. “I’m her daughter. I spoke to you last time. Please, let me talk to her. I’m waiting.”
    Then the cup moved and she bent over it, reading the letters it spelled out. “
E-N-G-A-G-E-D.
What did you say?
Engaged?
That’s impossible. Oh, she’s not there?”
    Tante Samia removed her cigarette agitatedly from between her lips. “He’s making fun of us. Talking to someone else I Not in! Where’s she going to go? That’s the first time I’ve heard of a spirit being busy. It’s impossible. She must still be annoyed with you, Nazik. Don’t take no for an answer. Tell him she must be angry because you buried her in Cairo instead of her hometown. Let him explain to her that it was so that you could visit her more often.”
    Nazik repeated Tante Samia’s words parrot-fashion to the spirit Fadil, and the two of them