2

Ghalia walked toward her father’s shop at a leisurely pace, carrying a food container in her hands.

The voices of street vendors rose all around her, mingling with the laughter and shouts of children running around and playing happily.

She was accustomed to the constant noise of the streets around her. That was simply how the Sayyida Zeinab neighborhood was—never quiet, never still.

As she approached her father’s shop, owned by Haj Helmy, the largest fabric merchant in the entire Sayyida Zeinab neighborhood, she suddenly screamed in alarm when something hard struck her head.

She immediately put a hand against her forehead, rubbing the sore spot as she glared around in anger, searching for whoever had thrown the ball at her.

She grabbed the ball and decided to teach its owner a lesson—and keep the ball as punishment.

Her eyes narrowed angrily when she saw Ali, the eleven-year-old son of Haj Moneim, the fruit merchant, approaching her.

“We’re sorry, Miss Ghalia! We didn’t mean to hit you!”

She walked toward him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“You little brat! Every time I go out into the street, I have to get hit by that stupid ball of yours! Should I cut it up right now so you can finally leave me alone? And stop playing in the street all day like a bunch of beggars! Have some mercy on yourselves!”

Ali hurried to apologize, terrified that she might actually cut up his ball.

“I swear it’s the last time, Miss Ghalia! Next time we’ll play in the field. Please, don’t cut it! Me and the boys all chipped in to buy it. We don’t have another one to play with!”

His pleading words softened her.

She sighed helplessly and held the ball out to him.

“Here, you broke my heart. I almost cried. But stop calling me ‘Miss Ghalia,’ or I really will cut it up!”

He took the ball and ran away happily.

Before leaving, however, he stuck out his tongue at her mischievously.

“Okay! I’ll call you Auntie Ghalia… or Grandma! Bye, Grandma!”

She stomped her foot in frustration as she watched him run away.

“Fine, Ali! Just wait until I catch you! I’ll make you pay for every little thing! He called me Auntie… or Grandma! The nerve of that brat!”

She then headed into her father’s shop, which was only a short distance away.

As soon as she entered, a playful smile appeared on her face.

She approached her father, who was sitting behind his desk.

The moment he saw her, he teased her,

“I knew it! As soon as I heard all that noise outside, I knew Ghalia had arrived. You always bring a whole trail of trouble behind you. Not once do you come here without getting into an argument with one of the neighborhood kids. Are you ever going to grow up?”

She sat down in the chair opposite his desk, pretending to be innocent.

“Me, Dad? I cause trouble? I’m completely innocent! Ali, Moneim’s son, is the one who throws his stupid ball at me every time he sees me walking down the street. What am I supposed to do about that?”

Her father burst out laughing at her childish complaint.

Anyone who saw her whining to her father about the boy who had annoyed her would never believe she was twenty years old. She sounded more like a little girl who hadn’t even turned ten.

“All right, Miss Innocent. Now tell me, what brings you here? It’s not exactly like you to come all the way to the shop.”

She smiled lovingly at him, pulling out the container she had brought and placing it on his desk.

“I heard from Mom that you left in a hurry this morning without even having breakfast. So I thought I’d bring breakfast myself and eat with my favorite dad… since I haven’t had breakfast either.”

Haj Helmy narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

He didn’t believe his daughter for a second.

She must want something.

It was like feeding a chicken before slaughtering it.

“I don’t know why, but I smell a lie. It’s not like you to bring me food all the way here. I’ve skipped breakfast plenty of times. You definitely want something today. Come on, tell me what it is.”

She laughed brightly.

“You always see right through me, Dad. Fine, no more beating around the bush…”

“Exactly. I like it when you get straight to the point. What do you want?”

“I want to buy a little cage with a bird. You know how much I love birds. I told you about the cage and the bird before, but you ignored me…”