Joy in Cairo
By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2007 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

The hotel in Cairo was reasonably comfortable and, after long hours in a factory installing robotic machinery, I welcomed the comfort of a shower and bed. The hotel, ostentatiously called "The Presidential," was not up to western standards but it was clean and as close as I could get to my temporary work site. My clients in the manufacturing facility spoke English fluently and the primary hotel staff struggled along just to the point of being understood. The TV in my room, however, had only a few local channels, and none of the programming was in English or Spanish that I could understand. The deprivation of contact with my familiar world weighed heavily on my spirits. And I had at least two more weeks of it to endure before I could return home.

My colleagues at work had drawn plum assignments to London, Paris, and Frankfurt. Being the junior member of the team, I had been assigned the Cairo installation. I was not unhappy with the assignment and for a twenty-three-year-old newcomer to the company I was lucky to get any international travel. However, the long hours at the factory had left little time to see any of the ancient city, and I returned to the hotel with only enough time to shower, eat, and fall into bed.

The hotel, built before in invasion of hotel chains like Marriott and Novotel, had but one elevator to service its five floors of guest rooms and was operator controlled, a fact that struck me, given my experience with technology, as quaint. The elevator operator in the morning was a friendly enough man in his fifties who performed his duties competently if unenthusiastically. In the evening, however, a young boy manned the elevator and was pleasantly effusive in greeting each guest. He looked to be not more than fourteen years old although I had learned that gauging the age of local residents was inaccurate at best.

He was effusively pleasant and made me forget the day's work and stress. His bright dark eyes fairly glistened beneath finely arched eyebrows. A perpetual grin on his lips broadened to a smile as he greeted his passengers. He was no more than five and a half feet in height and as slender as most of the young men I had encountered since arriving. His complexion, smooth and unflawed, was the rich copper-color of his heritage. Dark black hair, neatly trimmed, was visible below his uniform hat. In looks and manner, he was as close to perfection as I could imagine.

Arriving back at the hotel at almost 9 o'clock after my third day of work, and having grabbed a few snacks in a local store to serve as my dinner, I was looking forward to a long night's sleep. I was exhausted but my mood improved by the young elevator operator brightly welcoming me by name and confirming my floor number. Effusively, he asked if I was American, which I admitted. He said, "I like America. Some day I visit America. I learn English so to talk good in America."

I thought of the probability that he would realize his wish. The omnipresent poverty I had witnessed while in the country led me to think that he, too, would be limited by the expense of travel. I could only reply, "That would be nice. Maybe you will look me up when you get there." I had to explain the phrase, 'look me up,' and by this time, the elevator had arrived at my floor. I said, probably mispronouncing, "Shokran," (thank you), and walked down the hall to my room.

As I showered, I thought of the young lad, his enthusiastic manner, and his unrestrained optimism. Then, unexpectedly, I mentally pictured his slim frame smartly dressed in a uniform that no doubt had once been fresh and new. My thoughts unavoidably proceeded to imagine his body: slim and trim, as fresh and smooth as his young face. I recalled some fuzz just above his mouth and on his chin and decided that he was beginning, or well into, puberty so there was likely to be hair sprouting around the base of a cock that had at least begun to grow to adult proportions. My own cock responded to the mental imagery by stirring and then swelling. I jerked off as the hot, soothing water streamed down my back.

Feeling clean, fresh, and relieved, I munched on my snacks until I felt a craving for a beer. I had not been to the hotel bar on the top floor but decided to sample the local beer. I walked to the elevator and pressed the up button.

The perky young lad broke into a broad grin when he saw me. "You go up?" he asked.

"Yes, to the bar, for a beer," I replied. He told me what to ask for, Al Ahram's Stella, the only beer sold in Egypt at the time, and bid me goodbye at the top floor with a cheery, "I hope you like beer. I see you later."

Of course, I would like to see him later--and see all of him--but I knew he was just being polite as, perhaps, he had been trained to do.

After two beers, I summoned the elevator again. My call was promptly answered and the young lad was just as exuberant as ever in spite of the late hour. "You're working late," I commented.

His grin never faded as he replied, "Yes. Seven at night to seven in morning." I commented on the long hours but he replied, "No problem. Nobody comes after eleven. Maybe twelve. I have time to learn English. To learn about America." We arrived at my floor and I walked to my room in awe of the boy's attitude.

The next night, Thursday, was the end of the work week in Cairo. I had all day Friday and Saturday to myself to, perhaps, be a tourist, before going back to work on Sunday. I looked forward to the weekend with a combination of dread and excitement. I wanted to see as many of the spectacular sights to be found in Cairo, but I also expected it to be, at times, difficult to communicate and, to be honest, I knew I would be lonely. The elevator boy greeted me by name warmly, as usual. "You know my name," I commented.

"Yes," he replied, "I find out at front desk." It was the obvious explanation but his candor impressed me more than his initiative.

"And what is your name," I asked.

"Abu," he said. It was, I thought, probably a shortened version of his actual name but I was grateful that it was easy enough to remember.

Going up to my floor, he asked whether I would be working tomorrow. I told him that I would not. He hesitated a moment before asking, "You like to see city? I can show you. I know good places. I be good guide for you." His offer was irresistible and, having determined that he did not have to report for work until Sunday evening, I accepted. His grin seemed to illuminate the elevator. "Good. You come to lobby tomorrow. I show you good time." We confirmed a time, 8 o'clock, and I walked down the hall to my room for another lonely evening.

As I shed my clothes to prepare for a soothing hot shower, my thoughts were completely captured by the young boy's charm. His was not a simple, pleasant greeting when I entered the elevator; its effect was invigorating. His initiative and apparent love for his otherwise dreary job was impressive. And there was his body. His uniform was somewhat worn and baggy on his small frame but couldn't conceal a well-proportioned body. I couldn't avoid wondering, as I stepped into the shower, what that body would look like. The thought was sufficient to arouse me, and I stroked to a satisfying orgasm.

Upon climbing into bed, I chided myself for lusting after a young boy. I reasoned that doing so was merely a result of my being quite alone in an unfamiliar environment. I concluded that--because of his age and the very strong taboos in an Arab country--I was foolish to entertain any thoughts of anything beyond fantasizing.

I awoke the next morning full of eager anticipation. Not only would I have a guided tour of the city but would be in the company of a charming young boy. At the agreed time, he was waiting in the lobby, dressed in dirty, worn sneakers, clean chino trousers, and a tight-fitting T shirt with a New York Jets logo on the front. The T shirt clung to his torso, revealing a narrow waist, perhaps twenty-eight or thirty inches, and a chest that was noticeably fuller yet not muscular. His chino trousers were looser and, to my momentary disappointment, less revealing.

As he saw me approach, he jumped to his feet, his face beamed, and he gushed in his typical exuberant way, "Come. I show you city. We have good time. No?"

I had only said "yes" when he grabbed my hand and led me out the door into the morning sun.

For such a young man, I thought, he showed extraordinary confidence in taking the lead. "First we see Nile. Is beautiful in morning," he said as he started down the street.

"Wait," I called. "You want some breakfast first?"

He looked back at me quizzically but said, "First the Nile. Then eat." He paused before adding, "OK?"

The rest of the day was like that. He knew exactly where to go. And where not to go. He had complete control of the itinerary while I followed along appreciating his unwavering enthusiasm and pride in his city. He was as full of useful information about the city as he was animated in his explanations. I learned that he had just turned fifteen, although he could easily pass for a much younger boy. He lived with his mother and an aunt. He couldn't remember his father who was killed in the military years before. He also volunteered the information that his time was pretty much his own, without any restrictions on when, or whether, to come home. The overall impression was that of a lively, youthful boy but with a very adult-like sense of responsibility and ambition.

My admiration of the lad only grew as he confidently and competently led me to most of the typical tourist destinations but also took me to places in Cairo that were more typical of the city and just as interesting. I had several opportunities to admire his body without his being aware of my interest. His movements were not those of the typical boy who, having gone through a growth spurt, becomes awkward while learning to control expanded bones and muscles. Following him up a stairway in the Cairo Antiquities Museum, I marveled at the shape and fluid motion of his compact ass. It was enough to cause a stir in my groin but, fortunately, we reached the second floor before I would be embarrassed by a swelling in my crotch.

Lunch was followed by more tours in the afternoon and we finished the daylight hours with dinner at an out-of-the-way café that he had recommended. I couldn't read a word on the menu, but young Abu was very helpful in explaining the various offerings including suggestions on what I might like and what to avoid. He ordered and, at a question from the waiter, turned to me to ask what I would like to drink. "Do they have beer?" I asked. He flashed another infectious smile at me, turned to the waiter, and had what seemed to be a much longer conversation than necessary.

"He not like me to drink beer," Abu explained. "But I tell him is okay."

I could only guess at the reason for the waiter's reluctance and what Abu had said to persuade him otherwise but I decided not to pursue the explanation.

After an excellent meal and fascinating conversation about life in Cairo, we left the restaurant and emerged into the now dark street.

I was exhausted but he was as lively as he had been in the lobby that morning. And after a twelve-hour shift and nearly twelve more hours shepherding me through the city!

As we walked back to the hotel, the conversation turned to incessant questions about America. He wanted to know everything I could tell him. I could only return the favor since he was so forthcoming about his city.

We stopped outside the front door of the hotel. His ever-present smile had faded. Was he simply very tired? If so, it was understandable. I handed him a wad of currency with a "Shokran." He weakly declined but there was little delay in pocketing it. I sensed that he wanted to say something, maybe about another excursion tomorrow. I was right about his intentions but wrong about the message.

Hesitatingly, he said, "You nice American. I like you. You like me?" I assured him that I did. Then came the totally unexpected. "No. I mean to say, you like me to visit you? You like friend in your room tonight? I show you more good time."

The offer was compelling but I felt a need to clarify his meaning. My reply was awkward but direct, "What kind of good time?"

He looked up into my face. He gave crooked little smile. He glanced about before giving me a quick hug before saying, "I can be your friend tonight." Then, to make sure I understood, he added, "I can be good friend in bed." A hint of fear was in his eye as though he expected an indignant rejection of his offer.

I smiled down at him and said, "You're only fifteen. In America, that's against the law." I had not refused his offer, but he reacted as though I had.

With a small pout on his face, but with determination in his voice, he said, "This not America. Here is OK. You like friend in bed tonight?"

His determination, my uncertainty about legalities, and my craving to have him join me in bed resulted in my saying, "I'd like that very much."

He was delighted, almost jumping for joy. "You take elevator. I take stairs. I knock on your door." With that, he ran around the corner, presumably to the back door of the hotel.

My cock was stirring as I rode the elevator up to my room. My hand trembled as I turned the key. I stood, unable to sit down, awaiting the arrival of Abu. In what seemed like much longer than it actually was, I heard a light tapping on the door.

I opened the door and Abu rushed in and, to my surprise, rushed to the window to close the blinds. Then he turned to face me. "We have good time. No?"

"Yes," I corrected as I felt my cock begin to swell.

He ran to me and hugged me. He said he was fifteen but he had the face and diminutive frame of a younger boy. His head came only up to my chest. He looked up at me and asked, "What you want to do?" Having spent the day leading me around, he was apparently relinquishing control to me.

I seized the chance and said, "First, I would like to take off your clothes. Then you take off mine. OK?" He took a step back to give me access to his clothes. Wanting the experience to last, I was quite slow in pulling his shirt up over his head. In doing so, I noticed that hair had only just begun to grow in his armpits. His bronze torso gleamed with just a little sweat. There was not a hair between his chin and his belt buckle.

I ran my hands up and down his upper body--front, sides, and back. His body was small but it was solid. I teased and then softly pinched his chocolate-colored nipples. They responded by firming up and protruding as Abu moaned almost silently.

I moved to unfasten his belt as my cock stiffened and strained to be free. I unfastened his belt and undid the button at the waistband. Before unzipping his fly, I let my hand wander downward to feel his cock through his trousers. It was, to my initial disappointment, soft although, to my relief, was evidently sizable. I knelt on the floor in front of him, the better to see his cock when it was finally revealed. As the zipper came down, his trousers fell to his ankles suddenly revealing, since he wore no underwear, a pendulant, uncut cock that was surprisingly large for his small frame. Curly black hair surrounded the base and trailed down to his elegantly formed balls that hung down slightly. His legs displayed a sprinkling of short, fine hair. I was captivated by the sight until I realized it was still limply hanging--hanging low but showing no sign of arousal which, I thought, was unusual for a teenager who should have hormones racing through his body.

I sat him on the bed and removed his shoes (no socks) and trousers. Reluctantly moving my gaze from his lovely cock to his face, I saw that he was looking at my crotch with the obvious tent. "Your turn," I said to him.

He began working on me, duplicating the pace with which I had undressed him. I found it erotic but was nevertheless impatient for him to finish the task so we could put our naked bodies together. He ran his hands across my slightly hairy chest giving extra attention to my nipples. 'This young man knows what he's doing,' I thought to myself. Eventually, my pants dropped to around my ankles, and he carefully lowered my briefs so as to not painfully bend my extremely stiff cock.

Without touching my erect rod, he ran his fingers through my pubes and then fluffed the hair up to protrude outward somewhat more. My cock was no more than average size but I was pleased to hear Abu say, "Big. You have nice 'zibii', nice penis."

I sat on the bed and he removed my shoes, socks, pants, and briefs. Now we were both completely nude and it's debatable which of us was more admiring of the other's body.

By this time, I noticed, his cock was swelling, no doubt beginning its growth when first he saw my engorged boner. Looking up at me with his innocent gaze (although I didn't believe he was a virgin at this sort of thing), he asked, "What you like now?"

I didn't answer but put my hand under his arms and picked him up to stand at the side of the bed. I held him tightly against my chest, our bodies seeming to merge into one. He reacted promptly by throwing his arms around my waist and squeezing me as tightly as I held him. I could feel his stiffening cock pressed against my right leg.

Suddenly, he jumped up and I found his legs wrapped around my waist while he pulled his crotch and cock tightly against my stomach. He let go just enough to slide slightly down to the point that my aching cock was forced into the crack between his butt checks. I briefly wondered if my cock would, before the night was over, find its way up into his ass.

First, however, I wanted to enjoy his body. I turned and sat on the edge of the bed so he was now sitting in my lap. It caused a painful bending of my stiff cock so I dropped my hands to place them on his bare ass cheeks. Lifting him up, I slid his body back far enough that my cock sprang up to attention between us. I fondled his now hard cock gently, relishing the feeling of the brown skin that was stretched tightly around the mast of meat. In no time, he did the same to me. His delicate hand encircled my throbbing member. The sensations that shot through my body were electric but magnified when he positioned his own cock alongside mine and wrapped his hand around both to squeeze them together.

I picked him up again and laid him on his back on the bed. Beginning with his neck, I licked and kissed my way down to pay particular attention to his nipples that firmed and protruded as my mouth manipulated them. I worked downward along his firm stomach and, bypassing his cock, spread his legs slightly to lick and kiss the inside of his thighs. My efforts were rewarded with soft moans from Abu.

I began to lick his hanging balls, which made him moan somewhat louder and tremble slightly. First one ball, then the other, then both found their way into my mouth where they were gently massaged. I was in heaven adoring the young boy's body through sight, touch, and taste. Abu was clearly enjoying the experience as well as evidenced by his moans, trembling, and occasional muscular spasms.

I licked and kissed my way up from the base of his cock to the tip, teasing him and making him shudder in anticipation. Finally, I took his cock into my mouth. He shuddered as my warm moist lips encircled his erect cock and again when I teased his cock head with my tongue. Although I would have thought it impossible, I became even more aroused as I sucked on his cock that was now slippery with my saliva. Soon, I tasted and relished his precum and was sure that my own cock was oozing as well. I raised my head enough to look up into Abu's face. It was bathed in delight.

Sensing that my mouth was no longer caressing his cock, he looked down and smiled.

Unexpectedly, he sat up and pushed me gently to signal that he wanted me to lay back. I willingly complied. Skipping the preliminaries, he went immediately to my groin and I soon found my cock warmed and stimulated by his mouth. It didn't take long to recognize that this young man knew what he was doing. His movements were smooth, competent, and thoroughly stimulating. I sensed that I was not far from orgasm when Abu abruptly stopped.

He had sensed it too. He massaged my chest, stomach, and thighs for a couple of minutes before returning his mouth to my aching cock. Then, as before, he brought me to the brink of orgasm and abruptly stopped. I desperately wanted him to continue but said nothing. My balls were raging with their full load of cum that they couldn't release. My cock was extremely tender, feeling like it would burst out of its skin. For the third time, Abu took my cock in his mouth only to stop just as I knew I could wait no longer. I thrust my hips up, hoping to keep my aching cock in that wonderful mouth long enough to get relief. But Abu was too quick. And clever. He lay down beside me, pressing his still-hard cock into my side with his head on my outstretched arm. "We have fun. No?"

I realized my hips were unconsciously but instinctively bucking up and down slightly as though I were fucking something. Something that wasn't there. Abu sensed my frustration and returned his mouth to my throbbing cock. Finally, he let me cum with the greatest orgasm I could remember. I was delirious with pleasure as I shot load after load into the boy's throat. Having drained my balls, I collapsed back onto the bed, sweating, breathing heavily, almost paralyzed with aftershocks of pleasure, and deliriously content.

Abu cuddled next to me, one arm across my chest, his cock pressed to my side. When I regained my strength and sensibilities, I realized that this young man had given me an experience I would remember forever. And then I realized that the poor boy had given me all the pleasure while he had not relieved from himself what must have been the same pressure I had felt in my balls. Wordlessly, I moved down, took his softening cock in my mouth, and felt it return to its former stiffness. The sensation even restored firmness to my cock. I worked his cock tenderly but purposefully until I felt his balls tighten, his cock pulse, and the hot stream of cum fill my mouth. He gave me three of four spurts, which I savored, before relaxing back onto the bed. I licked off the remaining drops that oozed out of his cock and took a position next to him. I lay beside him, holding him tightly. I whispered, "Shokran."

He looked back at me and said, "We have fun. No?" A contented smile was my answer. He asked, "You want more fun?"

"No," I said, "I think you need to sleep now." He didn't object but snuggled next to me. Within no more than five minutes, he was sound asleep while I lay there marveling at his energy, his technique, and the ecstasy I had experienced.

Before falling asleep myself, I fondled his wonderful organ--not to arouse him but for my own selfish pleasure. It was soon hard, erect, and leaking pre-cum but Abu's continued, steady, deep breathing told me he was sound asleep. And why shouldn't he be after more than twenty-four hours awake? I continued my selfish gratification by pulling his foreskin back and letting it return to cover his helmet.  I wondered why he was uncut.  If his family were Muslim, he would most probably have been circumcised.  I made a mental note to ask him about that and returned my attention to his admirable endowment.  I was mesmerized by the sight and feel of his cock as I compulsively played with it. I was fascinated by the way his foreskin slid so easily down but returned slowly to partially cover the engorged head that peeked out enticingly. I was wishing that I had not been circumcised and could enjoy the highly sensitive stimulation of a foreskin. As I continued fondling him, I saw and felt the signs of impending orgasm. I briefly considered stopping out of fear that an orgasm would wake my sleeping beauty but my consideration was too late. His balls contracted, his cock jerked, and he erupted with three blasts that arced up to lay trails of cum on his chest and stomach. With only a brief interruption of Abu's breathing, he settled down again into deep sleep. I cleaned him with my tongue and savored the taste before reluctantly swallowing.

At nine the next morning I awoke. Abu was still asleep. I took a long admiring gaze at his body and went to the bathroom to empty my bladder and for a shower. I was hoping to, as Abu put it, "Have some fun" again before venturing out for the day. Abu slept until almost eleven while I poured over some technical specifications in preparation for the next week.

When Abu awoke, it was with the same energy and enthusiasm that had become his hallmark. He bounded out of bed, his naked body arousing me once again. "We have fun last night. No?" I could only agree wholeheartedly. He ran to me, gave me a hug, and ran again into the bathroom, no doubt to empty his bladder. Upon coming out, he asked, "You like more fun today? We see more of Cairo? We play in bed?"

I gazed at him again, amazing at his youthful vigor, his confident manner, and, of course, his spectacular body. "We do both," I replied, unconsciously matching his sentence structure.

"First, we play here. Then, see city. OK?" He was offering just what I had hoped.

After about an hour of sex, including a somewhat difficult sixty-nine given his short stature, we lay next to each other in bed. I decided to ask him a question that had been bothering me since his bold offer last night to "be a good friend in bed."

With no hesitation, he answered. "I see how you watch me in elevator. When we tour city. You many times look at my ... how you say? ... bottom. And my front. Only sometimes at my face. I see you smile when I move special way. You no notice pretty girls. You notice men and boys. I learn from my cousin how to watch people watch me."

His candor answered my question and also gave me a warning about any unconscious signals I had been sending.

Then he astutely noticed my concern and said, "Also, you nice American. I like you. I think we both have fun. I am right. No?"

"You're very smart," I told him, adding, "I'm glad you asked me to have fun. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Did you?"

"Oh, yes," he exclaimed. "You make me feel good. Like bird high in sky."

We spent the afternoon touring more unusual sites in Cairo. I did some shopping -- souvenirs for nephews and nieces and some "American" clothes for Abu: Nike shoes, jeans, and a Yankees T shirt. After dinner, I gave him another wad of currency, making it clear that it was for his time in being my tour guide. He didn't hesitate in accepting it this time.

I was looking forward to another night in bed with Abu and was visibly disappointed when he said he wanted to go home. I could hardly protest but he saw the disappointment in my face. "Maybe I come again to see you. Maybe tonight."

It was getting dark as I arrived at the hotel, wanting a couple of beers in the hotel bar but afraid to leave my room and miss a possible visit from my charming bed partner. Just before midnight, having heard no knock on the door, I went to bed but not to sleep for another hour.

Sunday morning came and it was off to complete my work at the manufacturing facility. I returned to the hotel after seven when, I knew, Abu would be on duty in the elevator. He greeted me, again by name and again with his characteristic charm. I thanked him again for showing me the city but said nothing about the sex we had shared. He didn't mention it either. It was as though it hadn't happened even though the memory had vividly taken residence in my mind.

The remainder of the Egyptian work week was the same: pleasant, friendly conversation but no reference to the highlight of the weekend. By Thursday, I couldn't resist asking Abu whether he could be my guide again for the next two days. I hoped my meaning was clear without having to explicitly mention the indoor fun.

His response was typically cheery but disappointingly noncommittal. "I would like that. Maybe I can."

We had arrived at my floor, the door opened, and I noticed the signal light for the lobby light was lit summoning the elevator back down. There was no time to press for a more definite answer.

I returned to my room confused as to whether Abu would tap again on my door and we could "have some fun."

I was sure to be awake before seven, the time I knew Abu would be going off duty. I thought about ringing for the elevator and repeating my offer but decided that would be inappropriate. He knew what the offer was and he should not feel pressured to accept. Hours passed without any knock on the door. A wide range of theories sprang to mind. Abu had other commitments. He got what he wanted: a little sex and some money. He simply didn't want to and couldn't say so to my face. Maybe some accident had happened to him. Perhaps the hotel management found out and fired him. If only I knew why there was no tap on the door.

It was nearly noon when I gave up and decided to go out for lunch. Returning within an hour, I was afraid I had missed him but convinced myself that last weekend would be the extent of my time alone with Abu. Having now given up hope of his arrival, I napped until about 3 o'clock. At 4:30, I was startled to hear a gentle tap on the door. I rushed to the door and gratefully let Abu into the room. He was profusely apologetic, explaining that his mother had some jobs for him. That explanation hadn't occurred to me but I fully understood his obligation to his family and his embarrassment at coming to my room so late.

"We can have fun again?" he asked.

"Of course," I replied without any attempt to hide my delight at seeing him. "Let's relax here for a while and then go get some supper," I suggested. He grinned as though he knew exactly what my wishes were. To confirm his understanding, he walked over to me, raised his arms high in the air ready for me to remove the shirt I had bought him a week ago. There was no hesitation in my response as I lifted his shirt off.

We repeated the same procedure as in our first night together. I undressed him more quickly but caressed his bronze body as thoroughly. The one deviation was that he was the first to cum into my mouth following which, he worked his magic on me. A late supper was followed by more sex in my room, Abu having climbed the stairs again. We both slept peacefully, giving in to sleep holding each other tight and periodically fondling each other's cocks.

Morning came and with it another round of completely satisfying sex. Abu may have had a boyish body but he was clearly an able and insatiable sex partner.

After breakfast in a local café, we agreed that it would be more fun to go back to the hotel instead of sight-seeing. After an hour of sex and helping each other shower, we sat in the only two chairs in the room when Abu looked at me seriously.

The boyish grin was gone. The exuberance had faded. "I like you. You are nice American. We have lot of fun together. But I must go now. My mother has more jobs for me."

He genuinely looked disappointed that he had to leave but I could not stand in the way of what he had to do for his family. "I like you, too, Abu. You're a wonderful young man. You've shown me a wonderful time. And I appreciate it more than you can know."

He stood to leave, sadly, I thought.

"Wait a moment," I said. I turned around to the table, opened the drawer, and took out an envelope. I stuffed in another wad of currency and wrote my address on the back of the envelope. I turned back to look at Abu whose charming energy was still noticeably absent. "I hope you can come to America sometime," I began. "But it takes a lot of money and it may be a long time before you can come. Take this. It has my address on it. When you come, maybe we can see each other. I can show you America like you have showed me Cairo. Maybe, if you want to, you can write me a letter and tell me how much English you are learning."

Abu hesitatingly reached for the envelope and studied the address on the back.

"Thank you," he said.

"Shokran," I replied.

A quick hug and he was out the door.

I was scheduled to return home before the next weekend. On my last morning in Cairo, Abu handed me a small envelope. "For you," is all he said. I opened it in the taxi going to the airport. Inside was a picture of Abu. His address was written on the back.

It is now laminated and carried in my wallet as a constant reminder of a joyful young man who, for however briefly, brought me immense pleasure.

Posted: 01/16/09