The Egyptian by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 4th, 2022 in Stories

man, that I mean no ill by what I say but speak only to instruct you. I still have a fistful of grains hidden away and I will grind them right now and make into a good gruel and prepare a bed of dry rushes for you, and perhaps in a little while you will be able to practise your profession so that we may survive. But do not concern yourself about this, for I have found washing to do in the houses of the rich, where there are quantities of bloodstained clothes, so that I can always earn something, and moreover, I fancy I can borrow a jar of beer from the pleasure house where the soldiers have been billeted, so that you can rejoice your heart. Please don’t cry so bitterly, Sinuhe my son, since crying won’t hallow anything, and boys will be boys and they need to play their pranks and suffer for their mischief and break the hearts of their mothers and wives — and there is nothing that can be done about it, since so it has ever been and ever will be. But I would prefer if you didn’t carry any new gods into this household since I am afraid there wouldn’t be a single stone standing in Thebes if you did that. That is my wish though I am only an old simple woman and unable to guide a learned man. Although Merit was more dear to me than my own daughter — if I am able to say anything about this since I have no children of my own as I am an ugly woman and greatly despise men — she certainly wasn’t the only woman in this world but there are many women out in the world that you can rejoice with if you just stop lamenting and calm down and let the time pass. Truly, Sinuhe, time is the most merciful of all drugs, and time rains on your grief like sand, and you will see there are other women out in the world who can pacify that small thing under your loin cloth so that you may become content and fat again, since that is the most important thing for men. Oh, poor Sinuhe, my master, how thin you have become and how your cheeks have sunken, and I no longer recognise you. But I will prepare a good gruel for you and a stew from young reed shoots and also borrow some beer for you, but please stop crying.”

Her words made me ashamed of my tears so that I composed myself and said to her, “I did not come here to be a burden to you, Muti, but I am soon going away and perhaps shall not return for a long time, if I ever return. For this reason, I desired to see the house where I had been happy before I go, to stroke the rough bark of the sycamore before

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I go and to touch the threshold that was worn by the feet of Merit and little Thoth before I go. Give yourself no trouble for my sake, Muti, since I cannot eat your grain as there is great shortage in Thebes, and I will try to send you a little silver that you may manage while I am gone. But I bless you for your words as if you were my own mother, Muti, for you are a good woman even though your words at times sting like wasps.”

Muti started sobbing and rubbed her nose with the rough back of her hand and would not let me go but kindled a fire and prepared food for me from her meagre store, and I was compelled to eat lest I offended her, though every mouthful bitterly stuck in my throat. Muti watched me as I ate, nodding her head and snorting her nose and saying, “Eat, Sinuhe, eat, you reckless man, though the grains be rotten and the meal good-for-nothing and a total failure, and I don’t understand what is the matter with me today since I barely can make a fire, and my bread is ashy. But eat, Sinuhe, for a good meal heals all sorrows, and a good meal strengthens the body and gladdens the heart, and there is nothing like a good meal when a man has cried a lot and feels lonely. I suppose you will leave on a journey again and run your stupid head into all the nets and snares that come your way, but I cannot do anything about that nor stop you. Eat, then, and gain strength, Sinuhe, and come back again so that I may bless the day when you return for I will faithfully await you. And have no concern for me if you lack silver, like I suppose, since you fed all your wealth to the poor and the slaves who didn’t thank you but only mocked your foolishness. Have no concern for me since although I am old and limp because of my wounds, yet I am exceedingly tough and shall earn my bread well enough with washing and baking so long as there is any bread in Thebes if only you will come back again, my master.”

Thus I sat amongst the ruins of the old copper founder’s house until darkness fell, and Muti’s small fire shed a lonely glow into the sooty darkness. And this was the only place in the world that was a home to me. So I stroked with my hand the rough bark of the sycamore thinking that I may never return, and I stroked with my hand the worn-out threshold of my house thinking that I may never return, and I touched with my hand Muti’s knobbly and motherly hand, thinking that it would be better if I never returned since I brought only sorrow and misfortune upon those who loved me. So it would be better for me to live and die alone, as I had come alone down the river in a pitched reed boat on the night of my birth.

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