He began to weep with sadness. Then a man spoke, and Audran turned. He recognized the man as the Messenger of God. “Shaykh Marid,” said the Prophet, may blessings be on him and peace, “don’t you consider me the friend of your youth?”

And Audran smiled. “Yaa Hazrat, does not everyone in the world desire your friendship? But my love for Allah so completely fills my heart that there is no room there for love or hate for anyone.”

“If that is true, “said Prophet Muhammad, “then you are blessed. Remember, though, that this verse was revealed: ‘Thou shalt never reach the broad door of piety until thou givest away what thou lovest best.’ What do you love best, O Shaykh?”

I awoke, but this time I didn’t have Jirji Shaknahyi to explain the vision. I wondered what the answer to the Prophet’s question might be: comfort, pleasure, freedom? I hated the idea of giving up any of those, but I might as well get used to the idea. My life with Friedlander Bey rarely entailed the notions of ease or liberty.

But my life needn’t begin again until morning. In the meantime, I had the problem of getting through the night. I went to search for my pillcase.