The sun had ascended the sky and gone past Magd al-Din and Dimyan and now to the German Front. All the time they felt nothing other than being carried on the wings of Gabriel. They even fell asleep while running. Had there been no train waiting at al-Hammam they would have kept on running all the way to Alexandria. How was it that they felt no hunger and no thirst? The bombing and shelling had subsided as evening settled on the second day. The civilian train stood empty at the station, which also was empty of people. The last car of the train was the one closest to them, and they got on and sat down on the first seat. The sounds of the guns roared again, and the train got ready to depart as they heaved a long and deep sigh of relief. What a good omen! They looked at each other in contentment and fell into a deep sleep.
Was it one moment? An hour? A whole lifetime that they slept? Whatever it was it was long enough for them to feel somewhat rested. It was impossible for them to remain asleep in the midst of the roar of the guns that were let loose with the new evening. Dimyan was thirsty, so he went through the other cars to look for water. In a corner he found a tap and turned it on. The water was yellowish and rusty, but he drank it anyway and went back. The train was completely empty and dark except for the moonlight coming through the broken windows.
“We’ve won, Sheikh Magd. I now realize that the nightmare in which I saw Mari Girgis engulfed by flames was nothing but the devil’s work.”
“The Lord be praised for everything, Dimyan.”
The train began to rattle, and the sounds of explosions drew nearer and fear returned to their eyes, but then the train started to run smoothly, and the sounds of explosions grew distant as the train’s speed increased.
“The train engineer must be Indian!”
“The Indians don’t operate civilian trains.”
“But he’s going at a crazy speed.”
“If only he’d go faster, Dimyan. Where did you find the drinking water?”
“In the fifth car. It’s been standing for a long time, but I drank it.”
“I’m going to get a drink of water and I’m coming right back. Wait for me.”
Dimyan smiled in surprise. Where could he go?
Magd al-Din hurried to get a drink. Why was he hurrying? He was being rattled hard between the empty seats as the train kept swaying unevenly. He reached the tap, turned it on, and filled his cupped hand with its yellow rusty water and drank it. The sound of explosions drew near, the train shook so violently that Magd al-Din lost his balance and fell on a nearby seat, his head hitting the back of the seat so hard it almost split open. He could not keep his balance seated either. He got up and the train was swaying violently from side to side, so he kept tumbling down and hitting the seats on either side. He shouted, “Dimyan,” and from the open windows he saw shells landing not far from the train and stirring the dust and stones, which hit the sides of the train. He fell down between the two rows of seats. The aisle was narrow, so he stayed down, stretched out and holding on to the underside of the seats so the rattling of the train did not hurt him. He realized that assuming a crucified posture was the best option for someone in his situation. Dimyan had also come to the same conclusion, but the car he was in shook more violently since it was the tail end of the train. At the same time that Dimyan was saying, “Merciful Lord and Savior of all who was made flesh for us here for our salvation, who lit the way for us, sinners, who fasted for us forty days and forty nights, who saved us from death,” Magd al-Din was reciting from the Quran, “. that man can only attain that for which he strives; that his striving will he noted; that it will he fully rewarded; that your Lord is the ultimate goal; that it is He who grants laughter and tears; that it is He who gives death and life; that it is He who has created in pairs, male and female; from a seed when it is poured forth; that it is up to Him to ordain the second coming to life.” The train swayed violently, shaking, its wheels thundering, as the shells kept coming, landing not far from it now. “This one of the early warning signs; the threatened hour is near; no one hut God can disclose it.” The light of the bombs entered the train car, which was already lit by a faint moonlight. The train swayed more violently than ever. A crash was heard, then something heavy being dragged on the ground and hitting against the crossties and the tracks. The train jumped up several times and swayed to right and left. One of the cars that had received a direct hit, and resisted being separated from the rest of the train, was being dragged along the ground. “Dimyan! Dimyan!” Magd al-Din could not stand up. The train could overturn if the car did not separate or if the train did not stop. But it did not stop, and the car did not separate.
Did that take a long time? Probably a fraction of a minute, but it felt to Magd al-Din as long as a whole lifetime. The train was now steady, and the terrible noise was over. Everything was smooth and calm after the heavy, turbulent movements. The rattle was over, and it was possible to breathe again. Even the lights of the bombs had now moved away in the distance, and once again the moonlight entered the car, and the winds, which a few moments ago had been buffetting the train, subsided into a breeze. The train was now balanced again, and the sounds of its wheels were once again monotonous. Magd al-Din could stand up again without fear, and so could Dimyan. Dimyan? If it was the last car that was hit, then Dimyan was lost. If it was the one before the last car, then he was also lost. Quickly Magd al-Din left the car, oblivious to whatever harm might come his way. Then he left the next car, then the third and the fourth, and the last car did not seem to be there, just a mass of red flames in the middle of the black night and the silence that now enveloped the world. Nothing else was there but the fire. “Dimyan!” he shouted, but then he saw him rising through the fire with a golden body and a golden face, holding in his golden hand a long golden lance, riding a golden horse and transfixing the heads of the fire-spewing dragons, and he heard the neighing of the golden horse. “Dimyan!” The lance was planted into the head of the dragon, which spewed forth more fire, then into the other head as the fire kept coming. The besieged knight fearlessly pulled his lance from one head after another, striking again as the fire rose and surrounded Dimyan’s pale face and the neighing of the horse continued. “Dimyan!” He saw him rising on horseback to the highest heavens, pursued by the fire, which was rising behind him, almost singeing his feet. Then the neighing stopped, and Dimyan carried on rising radiantly into the vastness. “Dimyan!” The golden flame now diminished into a dot, which finally vanished, then the dark prevailed. The train had gone quite a distance without Magd al-Din noticing it. He sat down on the nearest seat, sweat pouring from his skin as if a fire were burning in his chest. He stretched out on the seat and took off his shoes, leaning against the wall of the train car, realizing for the first time that he had become an orphan. Did he have to come to Alexandria and meet Dimyan? “Dimyan! Dimyan!” He began to shiver. It must be the desert cold coming early, otherwise why was he shivering? But his sweat was still pouring forth. It must be a fever. “Dimyan! Dimyan! Dimyan! The Most Gracious. He has taught the Quran. He has created man. Dimyan! Dimyan! He has taught him speech. The sun and the moon follow their courses punctually. The stars and the trees how in adoration. Dimyan! Dimyan! And the sky He had raised high and He has set the measure. Dimyan! Dimyan!” Magd al-Din’s voice rose suddenly, then subsided, and trembling he said to himself, still reciting from the Quran, “Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? Everyone on earth will perish and the countenance of your Lord, Almighty and Glorious, shall abide. So which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? Dimyan! Dimyan! All who are in the heavens and the earth entreat Him. Every day He exercises power. So which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? Dimyan! Dimyan! We shall dispose of you, both worlds. So which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? Dimyan! Dimyan!” His tears poured down his cheeks. “Dimyan! Dimyan!” The train came close to Alexandria but did not enter it; it cleared through on its way to Cairo, as heavy raids were still bombarding Alexandria and the battle for Alam al-Halfa was still going on. The train went past Kafr al-Dawwar, leaving Alexandria behind. Magd al-Din sensed that they were in the country again from the total darkness surrounding the villages, the different breeze, and the tall white dovecotes, and he sighed, unable to believe that it was God returning him to his village. Did he have to lose Dimyan to go home again? “Dimyan! Dimyan! When the sky is rent asunder, becoming red like ointment; so which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? But those who fear the time they will stand before their Lord will he granted two gardens. Dimyan! Dimyan! So which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? Of spreading branches; so which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? Dimyan! Dimyan! In them two fountains flow.” His tears continued to flow. “Blessed he the name of your Lord, Almighty and Glorious. Dimyan! Dimyan!” Dimyan did not die; he was not burned. God had lifted him up to heaven, and he had seen him, otherwise who was ascending on the golden horse, moving away into space from the fire of the dragon? “Dimyan! Dimyan!” And he kept reciting that beautiful chapter from the Quran, the only chapter he could still remember, punctuated by the name of his friend, until he was overcome with sleep.