It was no ordinary Cafe

                               It was no ordinary cafe

The two brother’s sat there discussing politics over a glass of whiskey. I was half listening while thinking about my pending marriage. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, the conversation changed to detailing their plans for a visit to Cairo in ten days time. They turned to me and my father said. “Come with us, it’s probably the last chance you will have to enjoy your bachelorhood”.

“Father, as you were for many years the senior partner in the family’s law firm, can I rely on you to persuade the partners to give me a week off to join you both. Remember it is only last year I was made a junior partner”.

‘’Leave it to me. I will book the trip for us three”.

My father had retired some four years ago after a long and distinguished career. He was now eighty one and starting to feel his age. His daily walk was with a caine and slow measured steps. I noticed his mind was sometimes clouded by a confusion of opinions, facts and numbers. My mother had died some seven years ago from a nasty bout of cancer. My father’s brother was five years younger. He was a professor of history in the local university. He had never married. There was talk of a lover affair that ended in a tragic accident. 

Ten days later we were unpacking our bags in a hotel situated in the center of Cairo. My uncle Richard, a well organized man, had carefully planned our visit. Day one, two, minor museums. Day two, the museum exhibiting the treasures of Tutankhamun. Day three, a day’s visit to Alexandia. On the fourth day in the early morning we went to the great souk of Khan Al Khalili. After wandering around for two hours I could see my father was getting tired. I looked for a cafe where he could rest. I found one down a narrow alley feeding off from one of the main thoroughfares. 

As we entered I was amazed by its small size as there were only about 12 tables. All the walls were covered with countless pictures of the souk dating back over at least two generations. The photo displays were divided by a number of small shelves containing various objects found in the souk like perfume bottles, pipes, old cameras, and various small statues. From the ceiling hung several ornate lanterns. The smell from the room seemed to evoke the odor of all the many spices we saw in the market. There was a serving bar and counter at the back of the room. The cafe gave off the feeling it belonged to another epoch. In one corner table there was a couple having a heated discussion. They were about to leave. 

My father immediately sat down at one of the tables and declared in a loud voice. 

“ Getting old has distinct disadvantages. I feel exhausted”. 

At that moment a tall man appeared through a curtain that was to one side of the serving bar. He was dressed in a magnificent embroidered waistcoat over a white shirt with ballooning sleeves. His long dark hair was swept back from the forehead in a bun. He had a handsome face, a large nose, and sparkling blue eyes. Before we could order in a deep throaty voice he said.

“I know something about old age. When I have served you I will tell you a story about getting old”. 

Once we had been served he stood there and said. “Now for the story’’. Before he began a cat appeared on the scene and settled at his feet as though it was its habit to listen to his stories. The whole cafe had an ambiance of mystery and a distinct impression that the photos contained many hidden secrets. 

“My family has owned this cafe for several generations. My great, great grandfather was fascinated by the problem of old age. He thought the human animal could be divided into two parts. Their body and their mind. He considered that once you reached old age, which he defined as over eighty, you should be able to transplant the last ten years of the content of your mind to one of your children. In exchange your body would benefit from a decrease in age by 10 years. He considered this period of ten years to be a generous and worthy gift for each party without completely disrupting their life cycle. For example, you are over eighty. You transfer to one of your children all your experiences, emotions and thoughts of the last ten years in exchange for your body turning the clock back ten years. In the later part of his life he created a potion, to be diluted with water, from herbs found along the Nile that had the power to make this happen. Certain herbs were extremely difficult to find so he could only make enough potion for ten drinks. On his death he left the potion to his family only to be employed under emergency or well defined  circumstances. He declared he had tested the potent and found it achieved the results expected. The next two generations profit from the potion six times. 

At this point my father spoke up. “Let me be clear that I fully understand. I am 81, sitting before me is my son and my brother. If my son and I were to drink the potion my body would become ten years younger. My son would inherit all the experiences. emotions and thoughts I have experienced in the last ten years”.

“Yes, you understood correctly.”

“ Hard to believe but fascinating”

“We don’t get many foreigners in this cafe. I assume you are Americans.”

“Yes, from New York”. 

“I think the Lord is looking down kindly on me. I told you the story as I overheard you talking about age. One of my parents and both my wife's parents drank the potion and found its benefits astonishing. Unfortunately due to their advanced age they are now dead so I can't introduce them to you. I wonder if you would be willing to help me as I have an emergency. My youngest child is in hospital with a very rare muscular disease. The local hospital’s doctor is in touch with a New York hospital that is prepared to have my child transported to New York for observation and treatment at their cost. The reason being that they have two similar cases in America and their fear is that it might develop into a medical crisis. All the paperwork is approved and signed, but it is lacking in one thing: an address of someone my family knows in New York. Would you be interested in a drink of the potion in exchange for your address? Wait a minute”. 

He disappeared behind the curtain. After a few  minutes he came back with several papers. Letters and agreements exchanged between two hospitals with annexes of medical records. Authorization from Homeland security for the patient’s passage to American soil. The final request was that patient's had an authentic contact address in America. It was my time to talk. 

“My father and I are lawyers so by profession we tend to  be very cautious. From a quick glance these papers they appear authentic and professionally prepared. But we can’t make a decision of this nature without more due diligence. Now I have to take my father back to our hotel to rest. I suggest you come to the hotel at two o’clock and you, me and my uncle will go to the hospital to visit your son. Here is the hotel's card”.

After a good lunch we left my father fast asleep. We went to the hospital. Seeing his young son surrounded by medical equipment and nurses was both moving and sad. We spoke to the senior doctor who confirmed all the paperwork and told us he was anxious to get the young boy to America as soon as possible. 

That night the three of us sat down to dinner to discuss a life changing decision. Temporarily put on hold was the holiday of being deeply impressed by the beauty and antiquity of Cairo. If we agreed to take the potion our family life, for a period of ten years, would change dramatically. This would be due to a man we only met today in a charming and mysterious cafe hidden in Cairo’s great souk. 

Before the dinner I had telephoned the New York hospital to talk to the doctor who’s name appeared on the paperwork. He confirmed the agreement between the two hospitals. He was anxious to get the boy to American for observation and treatment as there were two cases with a similar profile in American that needed treatment as there was fear of it spreading. Also he confirmed it was imperative that they had contact with the family through an address in America. 

We sat there evaluating all the possible risks of stepping into ten years of a life changing event. For my father, on the surface providing there were no medical problems, it appeared a blessing. For me to be burdened with the mind of my father over his last ten years might prove to be a difficult challenge . In those ten years a lot had happened. He lost his wife, in the last two years he resigned as senior partner from the firm, he had fought and won a few big legal cases which had increased his client base. Could I manage all this personal knowledge? 

The conclusion of all our discussion was that the night and sleep might reveal the answer. We had agreed to meet the man we called the wizard in his cafe at 11,00 the next morning. 

As he served us with his excellent morning coffee. I started the conversation.

Both my uncle and I were deeply moved and saddened on seeing your young son yesterday. We have confirmed from both hospitals that if we became your family's contact in the states your son would be flown to New York on the first available medical flight. Now to our decision. You can imagine it was difficult. You ask us to put 10 years of our life in the hands of a magic potion that was created many years ago. You tell us it works with no side effects. We have seen no proof. In the balance is the life of a young child son of a sympathetic father. If they find a cure in New York it might save many other lives. 

We agree, please give me and my father a glass of this extraordinary potion. We drank slowly. It tasted sweet, refreshing and had an aftertaste that made you think of country scenes. Once I had finished I started crying. 

My father immediately asked me why I was crying.

Dad, I never realized the deep and the painful sadness you felt when your wife died”.

He quickly stood up and embraced me. I could feel his body had changed as though he had spent a few hours in the gym. When we left the cafe there were long tender hugs, not a word was spoken. We all knew our relationship was cemented for life. 

In the last two days of our visit to Cairo it was obvious that my father had been blessed with a new lease of life. He looked a little younger and seemed to have plenty of energy for my Uncle’s planned visits. I occasionally had flashes of memories from my father relating to his last ten years. As I had inherited his mind these flashes were interesting. Once we were back home and I started work again the interference of my father’s memory and thought process increased. His knowledge, wisdom and relationship with his clients was of extraordinary help to me. I quickly became one of the star lawyers in the firm capable of advising and guiding clients into the future. The only draw black was at times I felt submerged by the pressure of juggling two minds. This constraint occasionally left me very tired. 

I visited the wizard's son in the New York hospital a few times until he was sent home as a smiling young man ready to enjoy his life. We stayed in constant touch with the wizard. The hospital was so pleased by our intervention they mandated our firm as their lawyers on several malpractice cases. 

The two brothers, my wife and I booked a trip to Cairo on the 10th anniversary of the first time we stepped into the wizard’s cafe. 

David Nutt                                    January 2025