THE TESTAMENT OF AL-HARIQA
Chapter Twenty
1
The two cars reached the outskirts of al-Hareeqa Market amid utter chaos: fire engines lined up as far as the narrow lanes would allow, firefighters dragging heavy hoses through the crowds, and clouds of black smoke rising above the roofs of the old buildings, blotting out part of the Damascus evening sky. The smell of burning grew stronger—a mixture of wood, cloth, and spices—filling the air far beyond the market itself. Warning sirens echoed from every direction, while some of the merchants wept in silence, watching a venerable piece of history go up in smoke before their eyes.
Adnan jumped from the car and ran toward the security barrier.
“You can’t go in, sir!” a young policeman shouted, stretching out his arm.
“My friends are in there! Hassan and Faris!” Adnan cried, his panic mounting.
2
Adnan saw Hassan standing among the terrified shopkeepers, unharmed, though his face was blackened with soot. He rushed toward him.
“Hassan! Are you all right?”
“Adnan! Thank God. Yes—but Faris is still inside! He insisted on going back to get a box, and it’s been several long minutes since we last saw him!”
3
With a trembling hand, Hassan pointed toward an alleyway from which thick smoke was billowing.
“You can’t go in. The fire is spreading fast!”
But Adnan, without a second thought, plunged into the alley, pushing past the barrier, while Lina shouted after him:
“Mr. al-Rafi‘i!”
Her voice disappeared into the din.
4
Adnan pushed through the smoke, covering his nose with the edge of his shirt. His eyes streamed with tears, and he could barely see ahead. Then, awakened by a sudden physical memory, he recalled the details of these alleys from his youth and used them to find his way.
He reached Faris’s shop. The wooden roof had begun to catch fire at its far end.
“Faris!” he shouted, forcing his way through the partially open door.
He heard a faint cough and felt his way between the fallen shelves. Then he found Faris lying near the corner, only partly conscious, his hands wrapped tightly around a small metal box, clutching it even as he drifted toward unconsciousness.
5
“Faris! We have to get out now!”
Faris opened his eyes with difficulty.
“The documents… my father’s documents… a final letter the Hajji Tawfiq left. I never told you about it before…”
“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, we have to get out!”
Adnan helped him to his feet, carrying the box in his other hand as the ceiling began to groan above them. They rushed toward the door and finally reached the alley outside.
6
They had barely made it twenty meters when they heard a deafening crash behind them. Part of the roof had collapsed completely.
Firefighters rushed toward them, astonished to see the two men emerge on their own, and led them toward an ambulance.
Lina ran toward them, tears streaming down her face, and threw her arms around Adnan.
“You were barely conscious! What were you thinking?”
7
“I couldn’t leave him in there, Lina,” Adnan replied, his voice hoarse from the smoke.
Faris sat on the edge of the ambulance, breathing through an oxygen mask. Then he held the box out to Adnan.
“Take it, Mr. Adnan. My father kept this separate from the first box because the Hajji Tawfiq told him that this was, as he put it, ‘the last word of truth I will ever say to Adnan. There will be no word after it.’”
8
Adnan opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a single envelope, sealed with unbroken red wax, bearing the Hajji Tawfiq’s unsteady handwriting.
On the envelope were the words:
“For Adnan—and for Adnan alone—when he has finally understood everything else, and when he is ready for the last truth that remains.”
9
The fire crews battled the flames for another hour before finally bringing them under control. Faris’s shop had suffered extensive damage, while Hassan’s had sustained partial damage.
Adnan sat on the edge of the pavement, the envelope between his hands, thinking of everything he had gone through to reach this moment: a mysterious letter in Frankfurt, a journey through Beirut and Damascus, his mother’s confession, a trial that had brought buried threads to light, and finally this fire that had nearly swallowed the last physical memory of his mentor.
He did not know that the words sealed behind that red wax would give him an answer he had been searching for for forty years—an answer heavier and deeper than anything he had ever expected.