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City Gates

Picador

The Stranger

The man was standing in front of the walls of the big city. He didn't know how to enter, but he had arrived. The journey was long and exhausting. Innumerable days and nights of cold and rain and exposure to the elements. But he finally arrived. He was carrying papers, pencils, and notebooks. He looked at the walls of the city, he saw nothing but walls, he didn't hear a sound. So he almost cried. He stood all alone. He put on the ground a suitcase full of things that no longer had any meaning and sat. He waited for someone to come. For men or women to come and welcome him, to show him how to enter. That is what he had dreamed. He dreamed that when he arrived at that faraway city someone would come who would take him by the hand and lead him into a bath of marble and warmth, and dress him in the most beautiful clothes. He dreamed of beautiful women and the fragrance of perfume and flowers. He dreamed of mothers and mistresses.

But he stood all alone, and sat all alone, and grieved all alone.

Then the man decided to walk around the walls. He carried his suitcase and his exhausted body and walked. The walls were naked and high. The smell of earth and cement. He didn't see one tree, and he didn't touch grass or flowers. He walked a long time and walked. Then he saw an elevated gate. The heavy iron gate stood in the middle of the wall as though it were guarding the city. He stopped in front of the door and shouted. He said he had come from a distant place. And he said he wanted to enter. But he didn't hear any answer. Even the echo of his voice didn't come back to him. Then a young woman appeared. She was more beautiful than all the other women. She wore a long purple dress, and on her head was a white scarf that glimmered as if it were a halo of light. She approached him, she took him by the hand, and said things the man doesn't remember well. But he remembers that he experienced an all-encompassing feeling of joy. He experienced that kind of feeling that issues forth from your head to your toes in one burst, so that it makes you quiver like the trunk of a ripe tree, then the fruits fall from the tree onto the ground and the children pick them up. The man quivered like a tree trunk, but the fruit didn't fall and the children didn't dance around him with joy, and the tree was not a tree.

And what the man tries to remember of that beautiful woman's words now appears obscure. But he does remember that she said she would open the door for him, and he must enter, but she refused to enter with him. You go in first, then when you reach the middle of the city you'll see a door of gold. Go in without knocking on the door, and there you'll find me waiting for you.

The man thought. Then he felt afraid and said no.

He picked up his suitcase and walked. The wall was round. The man felt that it was circling around the earth. He walked and walked. He felt lonely and empty. He regretted not entering, then he walked. And suddenly he saw an elevated gate standing in the middle of the wall. He knocked on the door no one opened it, then a young woman more beautiful than the first appeared before him. She took him by the hand, and she spoke beautiful words, she said she'd open the city gate for him, but she wouldn't go in with him. And there in the middle of the city you'll see a door of silver. Enter without knocking on the door, and there you'll find me waiting for you.

But the man who had spent all those long days searching for the city felt afraid.

How can I enter alone? I won't go in.

And he walked.

The wall was round, the man walked and days followed nights on top of his exhausted body. But he was walking and that elevated door was walking around him. He felt thirsty. He remembered water he dreamed of, and the water had a color. That was how he dreamed. He enters the city and finds water white like milk, but it tastes like water. You drink but you don't quench your thirst, the water doesn't run dry and you don't quench your thirst and you drink.

The man walked around the wall and walked. And he saw a third gate and a fourth and a fifth and a sixth. And in front of every gate stood a woman more beautiful than the one before her. And he feels all-encompassing joy, but he refuses to enter because he is afraid.

He had walked endless periods of time. And he walked all alone. And now how could he enter all alone? Maybe the people of the city thought he was a stranger or a thief or a bandit. He wouldn't enter except in the company of a beautiful woman. He wouldn't enter except handsome like a prince. That was how he dreamed while he crossed the mountains and slept out in the open. And he asks the birds about this city, and when he arrives at its walls, he doesn't find anyone who wants to enter with him. He finds only promises and words.

He said I won't enter and he walked.

The man began to stumble. Hunger and thirst and the oppression of long days, he felt as though diseases were penetrating his bones, he felt as though his bones were about to collapse, and he remembered the tree, and how he always imagined that man is a tree full of branches. He felt afraid and almost fell to the ground, and when he saw the seventh gate he felt incapable of continuing to run around the wall. He stopped in front of the iron door and shouted. So a young woman came, and she spoke words resembling the words of the first woman. She spoke about a door of gold, and about water and warmth. She asked him to walk in. And in the middle of the city he'd find the door, and he must enter, and she'd be waiting there for him.

The man didn't think long, he agreed, but he told the woman he felt a little bit afraid. So she put a tender hand on his head and smiled, and he felt as though he had the whole world in his hands. He felt strong like an untamed horse. He felt he'd reached the city, and he'd be the first to discover the door that leads to a huge palace that never ends.

The woman opened the city gate, but she wasn't holding a key in her hand. She approached the gate and touched it with her beautiful hand. The gate opened and the man went in. And as he was about to look behind him, to thank her, and to confirm his date with her, the gate had already closed, and there was no longer anything but the clanging of the iron banging in his ears.

The man entered. He saw houses of clay and concrete. He smelled the odor of people and he remembered his own odor. Because of the intensity of his intimacy with his body, over those long distances, he had forgotten that people have an odor. He felt that the smell of people is more beautiful than the smell of flowers and grass. But no one turned to look at him.

He said never mind, tomorrow they'll know. He smiled like someone hiding a big secret that will inevitably be revealed, and he walked.

He remembered that the woman told him to walk along the straight road and he'd reach the city square, where he'd find the golden door.

He walked and walked.

And he didn't find the city square. The roads led to roads and the alleys ended in alleys. He tried to ask, but he was surprised that no one would answer his questions.

He asked a man, the man looked at him a long time and walked.

He asked a woman, she didn't stop to hear his question.

The stranger felt that he was a stranger in his own city. But he decided to pursue the journey and pursue the question. I have arrived, and I won't return before I enter that door, or before I sleep with that woman, or before I drink from that water.

He walked as he asked, and he no longer waited for the answer, he began asking as he walked without stopping in front of them. He became like them.

The stranger thought he had come to resemble the people of this city. Then he felt tired and exhausted. So he sat on a rock. For countless nights the man hadn't slept. And for long days he hadn't had anything to drink.

He was sitting. He looked at nothing and didn't see anything, when an old man resembling the forefathers came. He sat beside him and said to him, "I know you're looking for the city square. Get up and follow me."

"But who are you?"

"Me, I'm the one who guides strangers to the city square, this is my profession. For a thousand years while I have been living here, I don't die because no one in the city has wanted to learn my profession, do you want to learn this profession? My body has longed for the earth, and my bones yearn for rest."

"No," shouted the stranger. "I want to go to the city square."

The hunchbacked old man walked in front of him, and the stranger walked behind, then the old man stopped and said here, and left.

The square was big. A white square, with white dirt and white sky. But the stranger didn't find a door and he didn't find women.

He proceeded to the middle of the square, where the white stones glimmered. He saw a coffin of stone, inside it was a corpse of stone. And he heard sounds of wailing and weeping.

He turned but didn't see anyone. He threw his suitcase on the ground and it split open. He sat then he stood then he sat.

"But where are the women?"

The stranger decided to leave the city. This is not a city. He left his torn suitcase and walked. Then he saw seven women on the outskirts of the square, with their long hair and dirty fingernails, weeping in a semicircle.

He asked and asked.

A woman turned to him and said they were weeping over the king of the city who was dead, and who was sleeping in his coffin.

He asked them. He said that he remembered. This woman was standing at the gate. He asked her about her promise. Then he asked her to guide him to the city gate.

The women's wailing increased. The first woman said to him that she doesn't remember that the city has a gate. Then she said she doesn't remember the presence of a wall.

He left them and walked. He ran. The roads led to roads, and alleys ended in alleys, and he didn't find the gate or the wall.

And when the man returned to the square, he felt that his home was here.

The stranger looked off into the distance and didn't see anything. He was listening to distant wailing.

He remembered that in his ripped suitcase there were papers and pencils. So he went to search for his suitcase.

The Search for the Suitcase

I said I'll bend down and I'll lean over and I'll go to sleep.

The stranger said I'll bend down and I'll lean over and I'll go to sleep. The stranger looked, the square was white. Nothing but whiteness. The stranger felt white fear, he was afraid of meeting the old man who resembles the forefathers. He was afraid because he remembers, now he remembers, the old man had no eyes. The man stands in the middle of the white square, he is afraid, he feels tired, but when he passes his hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat he discovers that there is no sweat, and that the fear comes from the sight of the old man. He remembers, a wide forehead full of white hair, a face that disappears behind dark lines, sparse hair that wraps around the face and scatters about like the wind. Then no, not possible to, perhaps, or. The stranger felt the need for screams to come out of his throat. Then he decided to bend down, then how can a man not have two eyes like all other men? How can it not be, he doesn't know, or how did he lead me across streets that don't end, and how did he take me to a white square, and how did I smell a white scent?

The stranger felt his body lengthening in the wind, he looked at his hands and saw them stretching, and the square started getting smaller and narrower before his eyes. The man stretched out his hands and rubbed his eyes and he heard a strange sound coming from his eyelids as they came into contact with his fingers. He felt very sleepy. Sleep will come and inhabit his body, and he felt as though he could stretch over an endless white space.

The man fell down, his feet staggered beneath the rustle of drowsiness. He fell lower, and lower was deep, he fell more and began to stretch, the white was disappearing and darkness was spreading. The stranger said I'll bend down and I'll lean over and I'll go to sleep. The bright whiteness, like that of an egg, began to circle around the egg. Light darkness penetrated by the dust. The man tried to close his eyes but the dust danced under lights that came and crisscrossed in his eyes. Dust that resembles dust.

The man saw and shut his eyes, he tried to shut his eyes, he stood, he tried to stand, he bent down, he tried to bend down. He said things he doesn't remember well. He told stories about eyes that don't close and the city whose seven gates he came to and whose square he didn't find. And when he did find its square he lost its gates and when he returned to the square he lost his suitcase and when he found his suitcase he lost the woman, and when the woman, the woman said, then he found himself standing all alone in the middle of the white square that had a white stone coffin in its center, and the man goes back to the square and searches for a suitcase he lost.

How do I search for the suitcase?

The man said he doesn't know the directions in this city, for the light emanates from the middle of the square. How can I distinguish the directions? And the suitcase was with me when I stood next to the old man, where was the old man standing and where was I standing? The man decided to circle around the stone coffin. He said I'll make a mark on the dirt of the square and go around, and when I get to the mark I will have returned to where I started from. The man knelt down, he stuck his finger in the sand and drew a circle then he drew another circle behind it, he drew a third circle, he drew seven circles and looked ahead and walked. The white sand was rising up between his feet without making any noise. The man looked into the distance and the distance got farther away and the coffin was still far off in the middle of a circle that got wider and wider. The stranger walked and walked, he looked and he didn't see, but he was walking. And suddenly he saw black dots in the distance shimmering amidst the whiteness, and he couldn't make out are they birds searching for something in the sand? He came close to them but after he had traveled for hours and hours he felt as though he was getting farther away from them. The man thought that they weren't birds, how can the birds not fly in this city? He remembered that he had read stories about birds that talk and birds that don't fly. And he decided to walk in the direction of the black dots. But he was afraid of getting lost. He said how will I know how to get back to where I am? He leaned over onto the ground and drew seven circles around the sand with his finger. He said when I find the dots I'll return to my place and resume my walk around the coffin. And the man walked in the direction of the black dots and walked innumerable days. And the lights of the dust came and crisscrossed in his eyes then disappeared, and the man didn't feel sleepy, he felt a bit thirsty, he felt that water, he no longer remembers how he imagined the water and he said that water resembles a discarded body, but he was unable to express more than that. He said I can bear the thirst and when I arrive I'll find that water. And the man walked, there were no roads in the square, the man walked and he didn't walk on roads, and there was dust flying or something white that looked like dust, something fine flying in particles that glimmered under a light emanating from the ground of the big square.

And after hours or days the man arrived. He began to see the dots getting bigger, he said I've arrived, and he walked, the dots got smaller, but he continued on, and they got bigger again. And when they began to grow and grow the man suddenly felt tired and said I'll bend down, but he continued on. And when he arrived he saw the black dots turning into seven dots, and the dot is a woman or looks like a woman. The man drew near and saw seven women wearing mourning clothes and walking one behind the other. He tried to ask, he said they must know something about the suitcase. He drew near and opened his mouth and said, but his voice didn't come out of his mouth. He tried again, and he put his hands on his ears and opened his mouth and said, but the words don't come out, and the women walk around the square. He walked behind them, he tried to proceed, he said I'll reach the last woman and touch her maybe she'll turn to me or maybe or. But he advances and the women advance. He sped up but he couldn't, he felt but he didn't know, he said but his voice didn't come out. The man felt a desire for eyes. The women stopped. He came closer and opened his mouth and shouted. And he heard a sound like the creaking of an old rusty door. He raised his voice more and the sound transformed into something like moaning. He tried to ask. And suddenly he heard and it was as though the entire square had become one vast ear and the moaning of the women rose faintly. He talked and moaning came out of his mouth as though his mouth had changed into a well. The woman sat, her black robe spreading over the sand. He sat next to her and tried and he saw her looking, he looked and saw the six women walking, he pointed to her, he spoke, his voice began to come back, he asked the woman about the suitcase and the woman said, she lifted her black garment off her face and he saw the whiteness. It was the white of the eye in the shape of an oval face, a mouth as though it were drawn on the face, two dots in the place of eyes and whiteness. He heard words, the words weren't coming from the woman's mouth but from her stomach, the woman said she waited for him a long time.

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Excerpted from City Gates by Elias Khoury, Paula Haydar. Copyright © 1993 Regents of the University of Minnesota. Excerpted by permission of Picador.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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