ÃäÊ ÇáÒÇÆÑ ÑÞã:
Story 3
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Thoughts and ideas pulled each other in his mind, floated there and disappeared swiftly leaving no effect except abstractedness and heat in the mind. Now he was standing in front of his apartment’s door .. gasping as if he has just finished running a long course. His heart was beating fast pushing blood into his head to echo in his ears. Fearing his determination to falter he put his hand into his pocket and get the key out, pushed it gently into the door. He moved the door cautiously and stretched his head to have a look at the hall. After he entered he restored the door without shutting it lest it should make noise. The hall was empty and all the rooms were closed. Where is the maidservant? He thought of the bedroom and took off his shoes and approached it on his toes until he faced the door, it was closed. He put his ears on the door’s aperture and eavesdropped imagining that he was hearing a faint murmur and other sounds. Suspicion has gone with the torture it causes and the hopes it implies. Disgraceful, terrible truth appeared wearing no veil. His eyesight went out for seconds because of anger, he was no longer able to bear the state of inactivity, he stepped back and twisted his leg to push the door with all his strength, the door quaked vehemently inwards. He took two steps forward until he crossed the threshold. A mad scream exploded in the room and two naked bodies jumped out of the bed, the woman’s and that of the young man.
The woman was in a mad state of panic and fear; she was shivering, her face went pale instantly and her eyes got wide. She drew the quilt on her body and stayed still looking at her husband as if she were looking at a terrible demon. The young lover failed to reach his clothes on the armchair. He stayed motionless and frozen in his place, he kept staring at the husband with terror-stricken desperate eyes beseeching him in trembling childish voice:
“I beseech you!”
It was strange that the husband was not overcome by madness and did not rush to take revenge as usually
happens in these situations. He was quite composed and vaguely tranquil like a drunken intoxicated by slumber. He kept standing moving his eyes between the lovers in firm peacefulness as if he were watching a sight apart from his own feelings and emotions. When he saw his wife’s hand trying to draw the quilt on her body he asked her coldly:
- Are you ashamed of appearing naked in front of me?
Then he turned to the young man who whooped in a shivering feverish voice:
- Have mercy upon me. Let me put on my clothes and do what you want.
- “Do you like to die in your clothes?” He asked him contemptuously.
- “Mercy!” The young man ululated
- “Put on your clothes man and have no fear.” Said the husband in a delicate voice.
The lover did not believe and began to beseech the husband again in a weeping frightened voice:
- Have pity for me.
The husband answered him encouragingly:
- “Put on your clothes man and fear not anything. Come on. I mean what I say.” The husband answered him encouragingly.
But the young lover did not move an inch. He was shivering out of terror. The husband took the lover’s clothes and handed them over to him saying in a mocking voice: “Do you want me to help you putting them on?” Yet, the young lover put on his clothes hurriedly. His shape was funny and ludicrous; his hair was daubed with vaseline appearing from under his fez, the buttons of his trousers were loose, his shirt dangles and the strings of his shoes were unfastened. He was completely distracted, looking at the husband’s face with submission and
despair and said:
- I am under your disposal.
- “What I am going to do with you? I have no use of you. Take leave from the lady, if she gives you permission to leave go in peace.” Said the husband with a shrug:
The young man looked him as if he were saying: “Why all this torture? Kill me if you want but quickly.” The husband knew what the young man wanted to say and he asked him with a shrug:
- Don’t you want to go? Didn’t you hear what I said? Do you still have desire for her?
The young man’s embarrassment increased and when he saw that the husband was giving the way he moved in slow steps not believing what he saw and what he heard. When he came in front of him he felt a heavy hand settling on his shoulders and he shivered out of fear and terror and expected evil but the man asked him quickly:
- Don’t be afraid … you will go where you want to go but … where?
He said this while he was stretching his palm to the young man. The lover looked at him, embarrassed and inquiring. The young engineer said:
- Where is the price?
The young man kept looking at silently, the husband said in a serious voice:
- What happened to you? Didn’t you have fun with this woman? Why don’t you pay the price then? Do you think that fun here is for free?
- Sir!!!
- What a stingy lover you are. Don’t you want to pay any thing? What is the price you can pay for this woman? Heh? She deserves a riyal, doesn’t she
When he lost hope he put his hands in the young man’s pockets reaching to his purse from which he took out a riyal and returned it to him saying: “Now go to where you want to go.”
The man broke away unable to believe that he was finally safe. The husband turned to his wife and said: “Now put on your clothes Madame and be calm.”
How could he control his feelings and reactions? How could his nerves obey him blindly? This is one of the secrets of nature that the strongest rhetoric could not express. However, this day had gone like a distasteful nightmare. He did not refer to that day explicitly or implicitly. He did not mention that day neither with joy nor with resentment. He did neither raise a question about that day nor investigate about its events. He met his wife with a calm natural face as if he were another person different from the wounded husband. He did not cut off from work, and he did not change his habits. He did not stop telling tales nor cooled off his jestings. He used to go to his job, come back, take rest, eat, drink, sleep and rise as if he were a happy husband sleeping with his beloved wife, or a father taking care of his house and family without anything to disturb his life.
During the first days of the scandal the woman was fear-stricken and tortured. She beseeched him with tearful eyes to divorce her. “Divorce you? Why? Did you lose your mind my lady?” He answered like one who lost his memory. She was completely helpless, confused, distracted, uncertain, fear-stricken, distressed, and unable to unveil his intentions. Was he going to payback? Was he going to divorce her? His attitude towards her lover was stranger that black day.
Days passed, long and heavy. Her worries did not come true. Her doubts proved false. She started to get rid of fear forgetting her concerns while she was doing household duties. She found herself mechanically devoting herself wholeheartedly to his service with the sinner’s enthusiasm who is trying to medicate his chiding conscience. However, she was not at ease with his meekness and peacefulness asking herself all the time: “Did he forget and forgive? Was he pretending to have forgotten? Was he consoling himself? What designs involved in his ambiguous life and uncertain smile
Their life went on regularly; each one of them was pretending accord and intimacy. Each one of them was reflecting his thoughts, until a day came when the husband invited all his relatives and his wife’s relatives to a lunch banquet. He gladly spent all the money he had. All the members of his family and his wife’s family came to the banquet, men and women, girls and boys, his father-in-law and his mother-in-law. The house was crowded with guests whose jestings and laughter; happiness and familial friendliness and intimacy filled it with cheerfulness and happiness. They talked about everything; about obesity and thinness, about marriage and celibacy, about girls of the past and girls of the present, about politics and bicycles, about premiums and children. The engineer shared in all these conversations with great appetite. He was extremely happy showing great courtesy to his guests, welcoming them passionately.
Suddenly he stopped talking as if he had remembered something important, putting his hand inside his pocket and got it out with a riyal, he went on turning the riyal upside-down and gave it to his father-in-law saying:
- Look at this riyal uncle; do you think it is false?
The man took the riyal and turned it left and right in his hand while the eyes of the guests turned to focus on their conversation.
- No, son… it is genuine, did somebody refuse to take it?
The husband passed a look at his wife and saw that her face had turned paler than a dead woman’s face.
He said with a smile:
- Nobody refused it sir, but I just wanted to make sure that it is genuine because it is the subject of a wonderful story and I am sure you all want to hear it.
The audience became more eager to hear his words, their desire to hear his story increased, he asked his father-in-law to give the riyal to his wife saying:
- Shushu knows the story of this riyal better than me; now I give her the right to tell it. Come on Shushu; tell them the wonderful story of the riyal to open their appetite for food.
All the faces of the guests turned to the wife, their interest to hear the story has been doubled. They expected a very interesting story. But Shushu was in a bitter state of panic and confusion. She gathered all her strength to rose and found her way among the sitting to the door, they protested against her leaving and tried to prevent her but she resisted their hands saying in a faint troubled voice:
- Just one minute, I shall come to you.
She went out while her husband’s eyes were following her with unsympathetic looks.
* * *
The reader can easily work out the appalling end of this story; he definitely read a lot, in the newspapers, about those who throw themselves from high windows and fall down dead. Perhaps the reader reads such concise news and asks about their hidden reasons and starts to guess. This was the secret of one of those suicides. Now I feel sorry that the story ends this way, but what can I do since it began a sorry beginning?
In fact, I am not to blame of neither its beginning nor its end. This is how its wounded hero, who now keeps to the pub day and night, narrated it.
However, I hoped its writer was its narrator because, and it is a sorrowful thing to say this, I could not reach his ability of expression and sincere statement.
þÇáÎãíÓþ¡ 27þ ÊÔÑíä ÇáÃæáþ¡ 2005
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