The man still said nothing, and the boy sensed that he was going to have to make a decision. In his
pouch, he had his jacket—he certainly wasn't going to need it in the desert. Taking the jacket out, he
began to clean the glasses. In half an hour, he had cleaned all the glasses in the window, and, as he was
doing so, two customers had entered the shop and bought some crystal.
When he had completed the cleaning, he asked the man for something to eat. "Let's go and have some
lunch," said the crystal merchant.
He put a sign on the door, and they went to a small café nearby. As they sat down at the only table in
the place, the crystal merchant laughed.
"You didn't have to do any cleaning," he said. "The Koran requires me to feed a hungry person."
"Well then, why did you let me do it?" the boy asked.
"Because the crystal was dirty. And both you and I needed to cleanse our minds of negative thoughts."
When they had eaten, the merchant turned to the boy and said, "I'd like you to work in my shop. Two
customers came in today while you were working, and that's a good omen."
People talk a lot about omens, thought the shepherd. But they really don't know what they're saying. Just
as I hadn't realized that for so many years I had been speaking a language without words to my sheep.
"Do you want to go to work for me?" the merchant asked.
"I can work for the rest of today," the boy answered. "I'll work all night, until dawn, and I'll clean every
piece of crystal in your shop. In return, I need money to get to Egypt tomorrow."
The merchant laughed. "Even if you cleaned my crystal for an entire year... even if you earned a good
commission selling every piece, you would still have to borrow money to get to Egypt. There are
thousands of kilometers of desert between here and there."
There was a moment of silence so profound that it seemed the city was asleep. No sound from the
bazaars, no arguments among the merchants, no men climbing to the towers to chant. No hope, no
adventure, no old kings or destinies, no treasure, and no Pyramids. It was as if the world had fallen silent
because the boy's soul had. He sat there, staring blankly through the door of the café, wishing that he had
died, and that everything would end forever at that moment.
The merchant looked anxiously at the boy. All the joy he had seen that morning had suddenly
disappeared.
"I can give you the money you need to get back to your country, my son," said the crystal merchant.
The boy said nothing. He got up, adjusted his clothing, and picked up his pouch.
"I'll work for you," he said.
And after another long silence, he added, "I need money to buy some sheep."
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