Ali: A story about a crazy Egyptian part 2

Scene ii. Much later in the day: Jared and Stephen are walking back to their respective apartments after a venture downtown. Stephen’s phone rings and he answers it.
Stephen: Hello?
Holly: I just wanted to apologize for what happened last night.
Stephen: Hey don’t worry about it. You can’t help it that guy went crazy.
Holly: I just feel bad you had to see that.
Stephen: Have the phone calls stopped?
Holly: No. I’ve gotten three messages since morning. They all say the same thing. ‘If you go to Busan you die. If you go to Seoul you die.’ Then I delete the message with shaking hands.
Stephen: How are you going to handle this?
Holly: I talked to Ben today and the school’s going to give me a new phone. And they will also install some extra door locks. Well, I will let you go. I just wanted to apologize for what happened.
Stephen: Sure, I hope this gets better for you.


Act II. Scene i: It’s the first week of August and Lindsay and Holly are sitting in Holly’s apartment. Everything is the same except for two new, and large locks on the door. They hear a knock at the door. It’s Stephen so Holly gets up to unbolt the door and Stephen enters.
Holly: Stephen, those locks aren’t there for decoration.
Stephen: Oh, right. (He goes back to the door to slide the bolts into place then has a seat on the couch)
Holly: I’ve been meaning to tell you, I ran into Ali this weekend when I was up in Seoul.
Lindsay: What! Really?
Holly: Yeah, I was out with Erica. I kept saying to myself, as long as I stay with someone I will be fine. So we get to the bar and stay for fifteen minutes or so and sure enough I see Ali. ‘Ok, Erica we need to leave now.’ ‘Sure she says, but I really want to get a drink made.’ ‘Fine just be quick—I just spotted Ali.’ Well sure enough, Ali spots me and begins making his way towards us. ‘Erica, he saw me. We need to go now.’ ‘Oh you’ll be fine the bartender’s almost finished my drink’ she says. ‘Erica. He will be at the table in less than a minute. I’m going to start walking toward the door.’ ‘No don’t leave me, my drink’s finished and I’m going to pay.’ It was too late at that point. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to face Ali. ‘Wholly’ he said. ‘Why you no answer your phone.’ I didn’t say anything I just stared at the floor. At that point, Erica returned with her drink and we both made for the door then ran for a cab. Ali did not follow us, luckily.
Lindsay: Note to self: never go to the bar with Erica.
Holly: Yeah no kidding.


It’s the end of September now. Holly just recovered from torn ligaments in her back. The injury started because she stood out of bed wrong or something and pulled a muscle. It got much worse when chasing her new dog Roxy into the bathroom. Roxy knew it was time for Holly to go to work and did not want to be put into the cage. So it was a habit to run into the bathroom. Her former method of escape, under the bed, was sealed off. Holly taped cardboard to the base of the bed. Well the floor was wet in the bathroom and Holly slipped and fell. Later that day in class, it became even worse. Shane was writing a note to another student. Holly scolded at him and made to steal the note. Shane, not wanting Holly to see it, dropped the note in between the wall and his desk. Holly went around to pick the note up. To block Holly, Shane pushed himself and his chair to the wall to keep Holly from passing. He did not block Holly so much as smash her into the wall, as she was already halfway to the note. Holly was immobile for a few minutes waiting for the sharp pain to take it’s course. Shane, horribly guilt ridden that his fisticuffs cause Holly so much pain, spent the remainder of class composing a three page apology letter. Seven weeks later it’s the end of September. We have two days off to celebrate the Korean holiday Chuesok. It’s 10:30 at night and Lindsay, Holly, and Stephen are walking home from work. And they are discussing plans to go to Seoul to celebrate Holly’s recovery.
Holly: I can’t wait to get up to Seoul this weekend. It’s been too long.
Stephen: How long have you been injured.
Holly: Seven weeks. And I wasn’t injured Stephen, I was crippled.
Lindsay: Let’s just pray we don’t run into Ali.
Holly: That’s the best part about his weekend. It’s Ramadan. So Ali won’t come into come into the bars.

(It’s the end of Chuesok and everyone is walking home from work like the previous night.)

Stephen: I trust you all had an Ali free weekend?
Holly: Kind of.
Lindsay: We saw him from across the street. He didn’t come into the bar, but He was standing there smiling at us.


The next time Holly ran into Ali was a month later. She was up in Seoul again with her friend Erica. They are in the same bar, just as before. And just as before Ali sees them and starts to approach them. Holly, naturally, wanted to leave. But Erica held her there and strongly advised her to speak to him. This will never be over she said until you have it out with him. Just go up there and tell him why you will never talk to him again. Ali came to their table with his friend. A man who could speak better English. He began speaking Arabic to his friend. His friend translated to Holly
“Ali wants to no why you don’t answer your phone.”
“Because I don’t want to talk to him.” Holly said. Ali’s friend translated. Ali spoke back and his friend again translated to Holly:
“He really would like to know why.”
“Ok. Well, after he took Lindsay by the neck and threw her across the room…”
“He did that!” Ali’s friend was shocked.
“Yes. And he left a bunch of death threats on my phone saying he was going to kill me if I ever went to Busan or Seoul again.” Ali’s friend was even more disgusted. He turned and translated to Ali this time maintaining a note of contempt and condemnation in his voice. Ali looked surprised and innocent and spoke back to his friend.
“He says he was upset and that he is sorry.”
“Sure, Holly replied. I still don’t want to talk to him.” This exchange must have softened Ali because he took great lengths to make his case stronger. The next time Holly ran into Ali was sometime in November. Ali approached her with a bouquet of roses and said: “I’m sorry.”
“Aww, well that was nice. So you’ve forgiven him?” I asked.
“Yeah, Stephen we’re back together.”

Now I ask for your patience as I take a break from the Ali story to tell a tale of my own affairs. It may seem irrelevant at first but it’s necessary to understand the cause of a string of events that happened as a result of my own mishaps.
It was another Saturday night. I had a sleepy buzz. My eyelids sagging and was ready to sink into my bed and drift into a heavy sleep. My phone rings. I answer the phone and it’s a friend of mine I met a few months back.
“Where are you?”
“My apartment.”
“Already? Get your ass back here. I want a cheap cab ride home.”
“Aw. No. I’m out of money. I’m ready to go to bed…”
“I don’t care. Go to Family Mart and withdraw money and get down here.”
“Fine if I come down, you’re buying me Burger King.”
“Fine.” So nobody thinks poorly of Mike’s character, he was very drunk on the phone. And under normal circumstances, he is not so pushy. I myself, as I’ve admitted before, had a few drinks. And had I been sober, no way would I have gone back out. But I did. I withdrew money and got into a cab. My Korean is terrible when I’m sober, but in my present condition—I’m sure you get the idea. Needless to say where the cab driver let me off, I didn’t recognize anything. I tried another cab and must have repeated this process three or four times. By this time, I was so furious that I listened to Mike, lost close to thirty dollars in cab fairs, that I told the next cab driver to take me home.
I get to my door. I reach into my pocket—my fingers rub against the cotton pocket lining as I curl my fingers around nothing. My heart pounds against my chest and I grab my other pocket—nothing. Immediately, I realized what had happened because it’s not the first time I’ve lost a key in this manner. My legs are longer than most peoples and when I get into cabs I have to put knees up to the dashboard so I can fit the rest of myself in. While I had my legs up in one of the cabs, my key must have fallen out of my pocket before I could get the seat back.
“Damn it Steve!” I ran around the corner of the apartment prepared to do what I did the last time. Climb the wall to get into my second story apartment. Climbing the wall sober is easy. But I wasn’t sober. I put my phone in my jacket pocket and took a deep breath. I put my hands on the cement wall and hoisted myself up. Part one was finished. Next there was a brick arc that connected the two buildings that I needed to get on top of. Flowers and daisies bloomed atop of in the summer months disguising the air conditioning units. From the arc I needed to place one foot on a protruding pipe and I would just be able to reach my window ledge. I started to pull myself up to my window. My foot slipped and my body drug down the wall. The friction forced my cell phone from my jacket and it hit the ground with a clack and broke. I about fell myself from the lost grip on the window the slip caused. I somehow managed to maintain my tentative grip on the window edge and pulled myself and regained a second drive and heaved myself through the window inside. I sunk down my kitchen wall, until I fully drooped to the floor. I leaned against my kitchen wall with my legs outstretched not wanting to move forever. I had to explain to my boss how the phone broke and how I lost my key—again.
“Ben, this weekend. I broke my phone and lost my key.” That was all I had decided to say to him. Fortunately, before Ben was married he was a party-going, rebel rouser himself. A man who could trump even the most, wild story I could conjure let alone live to tell about. The point I’m making is that Ben, more than anyone else understands, don’t ask don’t tell.
“You had it in your bag and left it on the subway. And it’s gone now.” After Ben said that I breathed a sigh of relief. “But your key—you didn’t make two copies the last time?”
“No the last time, I wasn’t planning on loosing it again.”
“Alright, well I’ll talk to Janice. Just give me a week. It’s the new semester and she’s real stressed out so I don’t want her to fly off the handle.”
“Yeah, sure thing. And I’m totally prepared, if fact, I would like to pay for a new cell phone. Can it be deducted from my next check?”
“Maybe, maybe not. The thing is it’s a company phone. And I don’t know how CDI gets its phones. They may have a contract deal where they get new ones every so often. Your phone wasn’t state of the art or anything was it?”
“No. Just a standard phone.”
“Ok. Well, like I said. I’ll talk to Janice in a week. And let you know what happens.”

It’s the second week of January. I walk into my classroom and see the replaced cell phone sitting on my desk. I take it out of the box and walk to Holly’s classroom to exchange cell numbers. I read Holly my cell phone number and I notice she stops entering it.
“That’s my old phone.” She says.
“You mean the tainted one?”
“Yeah. I guess you can look forward to phone sex with Ali now.” We both had a good laugh.
“Don’t worry. Ali won’t call you.” Lindsay said after I told her the story later.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, the last time we were in Seoul Ali wanted to know why Holly never has her phone on. And Holly just told him that she got a new one. So he knows better now.”
“Alright. I was really going there for a minute.” Lindsay shook her head to reassure me that my suspicions were ill founded.
That Friday morning at 2:45, the cell phone rings. I smile. No way that’s Ali. But why would Holly, Lindsay or Jared be calling me now. I look down to see the number as something strange.
“Hello?” I hear a man’s voice saying:
“Wholly. Wholly. Where’s Wholly?
“I don’t know who that is?” I was still not sure that this wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke.
“It’s Ali. I want to speak to Wholly.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. Silence. He hung up. I thought, even if it is Ali. It’s Friday and he was probably drinking, and was drunk dialing. No big deal.
Saturday night. My phone vibrated with a text message. It says:
“Where are you?”
“My apt.”
“Apt? Is that a new club??”
“Who is this?”
“Ali, bitchk.” Whoa! I stopped texting and put the phone down. I put my palms to my temples and started pacing circles around the room. No way. No way. No Way. I put pants on and dashed down to knock at Holly’s apartment door. Holly shouts over Roxy’s barking:
“Come in!” I enter to Roxy barking at me from the bed. Instantly thereafter her backside was visited with a sharp swat by the flyswatter Holly pulled from behind the bed. “Shut-up!” Roxy obsequiously retired, lowering herself, putting her ears down behind her head, into a den of pillows piled on the bed—deciding it best to watch the following events from the safety of her cove. “Hi Stephen. What brings you down here?”
“Oh wow. You won’t believe what just happened.”
“What.”
“Ali just started texting me. Here look.” I said removing the phone.
“Let me guess. It says Ali bitch?”
“Yeah. Is that what he usually says?” Holly started laughing.
“No. I texted that to you. Didn’t my number come up on your cell?”
“You’re number did, but I didn’t save the name so I didn’t recognize it.”
“You thought we were Ali!” Lindsay joined in the laughter.
“Well that’s because he called me the night before.” They both stopped laughing.
“Stephen shut-up.”
“I’m serious.”
“I can’t believe, after seven months, he still calls that phone. What did he say to you?”
“Nothing really. He was drunk I think. He just said ‘Wholly, Wholly. Where’s Wholly.’ And I said ‘I don’t know who that is.’ Then he hung up.”
“What a loser!”
“That’s why we shouldn’t joke about this stuff Lindsay because it will actually come true.” Holly looked at me. “Well, Stephen, I guess you have a new boyfriend now.”
“I guess so.”
That night was two weeks ago. And now I’ve brought you to the present.