Read The Seventh Heaven for Free Online

have a better part to play in all this.
    Here is my tormented mother, blocking your path.
    “Master Anous,” she pleaded, “do you have any news of your friend?”
    “None at all, by God,” he swore.
    “He told me as he went out that he was going to see you.”
    “We met for a few minutes,” said Anous, “then he told me he had to do an important errand, and that we would meet tonight at the café.”
    “But he hasn’t come back,” the distraught mother said.
    “Didn’t I visit you asking about him?”
    “That’s true, my dear boy, but I’m about to lose my mind.”
    “I’m as upset as you are,” declared Anous.
    Believe me, Anous. I see the distress in your soul like a blemish on your face. But you are malignant and cruel. You are from the Opposing Power, Anous—don’t you see the danger in that? We grumble all the way down the Path of Light—so what do you think about while sliding down the Path of Darkness? I am stuck to you. If you don’t taste that roasted chicken, then the fault is yours. If you can’t concentrate on the book you’re reading, that’s your own problem, as well. I will never leave you, nor shall I ever grow tired. You may as well stay up late, for you shall not know sleep before dawn.
    When he rose back to the First Heaven, Raouf encountered Abu deep in discussion with Akhenaten.
    “Every time I told him to go right, he went left!” the defunct pharaoh fumed.
    “You must use your powers as needed,” exhorted Abu.
    “We lack the ability to use physical force,” Akhenaten complained.
    “Do you want to go up, or do you not?” exploded“The trouble is, you are not used to persuading andconvincing people of your point of view. You only know how to give orders!”
    Abu turned to Raouf. “How are things with you?” he asked.
    “I’m off to a good start,” the youngster said.
    “Wonderful!” said Abu.
    “Yet I wonder, doesn’t everyone have their own guide?”
    “Naturally,” said Abu.
    “Then why does everyone just give up?”
    “How wrong you are,” Abu abjured. “You were born in the age of revolutions!”
    At that moment, a green bird the size of an apple landed on Abu’s shoulder. It brought its rose-colored beak close to Abu’s ear. Abu seemed to be listening, when the bird suddenly flew off into space until it was hidden behind a white cloud.
    Abu looked meaningfully into Raouf’s eyes. “That was the messenger from the Second Heaven,” he explained, “bringing word of the acquittal and right to ascend for one called Sha‘ban al-Minufi.”
    “Who’s he?” asked Raouf.
    “An Egyptian soldier who was martyred at Morea in the age of Muhammad Ali. He was mentor to a hard-currency smuggler named Marwan al-Ahmadi—and finally succeeded in his campaign to drive him to suicide.”
    Sha‘ban al-Minufi approached, wrapped in his vaporous robe. “May you ascend gloriously and with grace to the Second Heaven,” Abu told him.
    All the spiritual guides flocked toward them in the shape of white doves until the verdant place was packed, Sha‘ban al-Minufi’s face beaming in their midst. As celestial musicsounded, Abu declaimed, “Rise, O rose of our green city, to carry on your sacred struggle.”
    In a pleasing voice, Sha‘ban replied, “Blessings upon whoever renders service to the suffering world.”
    At this he began to go up with the lightness of an ephemeral fragrance to the strains of the happy anthem of farewell.
5
    Anous Qadri, the butcher’s son, stood facing the police detective who asked him, “When was the last time you saw Raouf Abd-Rabbuh?”
    “The afternoon of the day he disappeared,” said Anous. “He came to see me at my house. No sooner had he showed up than he left to do some business. He promised to meet me that evening at the café.”
    “Did he tell you anything about this business he had to do?”
    “No,” said Anous.
    “Did you ask him about it?” the officer pressed him.
    “No, I thought it must be something to do