Maybe he was there beside me, but he was immersed in blood and sweat, so not a trace of him appeared. Only at that point could I hurry to the back door to the square. Khalil was standing by it as usual. He looked at me in astonishment, saying, ‘Again? I can’t protect you for ever.’ ‘But you do,’ I said, as I handed him the bloody knife, which you’re never allowed to take back to your house. ‘It’s only a half-hour.’ ‘Flog.’ ‘No problem. I’m good for it.’ So he cleared the way for me to pass. He knows I will come back the very same way, and he will let me come in and work some time before I get my full wages. He stands here to prevent this exact thing. This time, I ran, so I reached my house within fifteen minutes. I only needed ten minutes and then I’d be back in another fifteen minutes. Safiya was inside waiting for me. I quickly washed the traces of chicken blood from my face and hands. I can stand dirt, but I can never stand blood. The girl from Utopia had passed out, of course, because of the mix of cough medicine and Parkinol with opium that Safiya had given her to drink from the bottle.
