to go to sleep myself.”
Instinctively, at the memory of Galal, she opened her mouth and yawned. The child was heavy on her knees. She was tired from her day’s work and her limbs felt stiff. The odor of the kerosene lamp, mingled with the aroma of perfume and cosmetics, was strange and heavy in the room. Hoda felt herself falling asleep. The great bed, the mirrored chest which reflected all Imtissal’s movements, all the atmosphere of faded, cheap luxury, began to dizzy her. She saw Imtissal’s supple, adorned body languishing on the rose quilt. One of her legs, slipping through her dressing gown, seemed, in the weak lamp light, like the supreme indecency of all flesh. Hoda felt drugged in the stagnant air; she heard the death-rattle of love infiltrate the silence. The room seemed, for the first time, strange and corrupting. She shook herself, blinked her eyes, and asked in a smothered voice:
“You don’t want to see him again?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Rafik,” said Hoda. “He still devils me about you. He thinks it’s my fault you won’t see him.”
“Tell him I’ll never see him again,” cried Imtissal. “And that I curse him with all my soul. To think he stuffs himself there, in the middle of his disgusting family. Ah! You don’t know his pride! He’s bursting with vanity. Do you know what he said to me one day, when he saw a funeral go by? That he wished he was the dead man. Because of the pomp of the cortege, you understand! How can anyone be so vain!”
“He told me he wanted to explain some things to you,” said Hoda.
“What has he to explain? I don’t want a single explanation. It’s enough to know he’s plunged in unhappiness! Ah! It’s going to be so funny! I hope someone will pass out sugarplums at that rotten old man’s wedding. Don’t forget to bring me my share.”
Imtissal had risen; she was standing now at the foot of the bed, in a martyred pose. A bitter pain twisted her highly painted face. Now she finally had her revenge! She bared her breasts and burst out in hysterical laughter.
♦ ♦ ♦
The monotonous, insidious call of the corn vendor harassed him.
“Roasted corn! Eat some roasted corn!”
These wandering vendors — he despised them more than anything in the world; they cried their merchandise in the ears of the passers-by as if they offered an obscene invitation. This one was even worse than the others. He gave himself the airs of a conscientious, organized worker. The imbecile! He thought he was working because he pulled some ears of roasted corn on a cart! What stupidity! Rafik heard his call again, distorted by the distance, filling the night. He felt the mute cries of men around him, ready to devour him. He hurried on. The road was deserted now, but he felt the certain presence of monsters, always ready for murder. He felt them waiting behind the walls of houses, couching in the shadowy underbrush of the fields, and even in the dull sky above him.
Rafik prowled a few minutes under Imtissal’s window. He didn’t dare go up; he was afraid she’d be with a client. He’d never be able to survive such a humiliation! He suffered a deadly jealousy at the thought of Imtissal making love. He was tormented by visions; he stiffened under the intensity of his carnal memories. He glanced toward the entrance and was terrified by its look of a shadowy trap. The house was in deep shadow; the street lamps didn’t penetrate it. Its sinister façade and crumbling walls seemed buried in the night. Rafik couldn’t take his eyes off the entrance. His need to explain to Imtissal, that had brought him this far, had changed to a physical desire. Suddenly he felt himself torn apart, and a light split the darkness. A car passed at top speed, creating a wind of panic. Rafik felt himself caught and staggered like a drunken man. He couldn’t stand the least shock. His head ached, his limbs were weak and painful; he was afraid of falling on the
Instinctively, at the memory of Galal, she opened her mouth and yawned. The child was heavy on her knees. She was tired from her day’s work and her limbs felt stiff. The odor of the kerosene lamp, mingled with the aroma of perfume and cosmetics, was strange and heavy in the room. Hoda felt herself falling asleep. The great bed, the mirrored chest which reflected all Imtissal’s movements, all the atmosphere of faded, cheap luxury, began to dizzy her. She saw Imtissal’s supple, adorned body languishing on the rose quilt. One of her legs, slipping through her dressing gown, seemed, in the weak lamp light, like the supreme indecency of all flesh. Hoda felt drugged in the stagnant air; she heard the death-rattle of love infiltrate the silence. The room seemed, for the first time, strange and corrupting. She shook herself, blinked her eyes, and asked in a smothered voice:
“You don’t want to see him again?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Rafik,” said Hoda. “He still devils me about you. He thinks it’s my fault you won’t see him.”
“Tell him I’ll never see him again,” cried Imtissal. “And that I curse him with all my soul. To think he stuffs himself there, in the middle of his disgusting family. Ah! You don’t know his pride! He’s bursting with vanity. Do you know what he said to me one day, when he saw a funeral go by? That he wished he was the dead man. Because of the pomp of the cortege, you understand! How can anyone be so vain!”
“He told me he wanted to explain some things to you,” said Hoda.
“What has he to explain? I don’t want a single explanation. It’s enough to know he’s plunged in unhappiness! Ah! It’s going to be so funny! I hope someone will pass out sugarplums at that rotten old man’s wedding. Don’t forget to bring me my share.”
Imtissal had risen; she was standing now at the foot of the bed, in a martyred pose. A bitter pain twisted her highly painted face. Now she finally had her revenge! She bared her breasts and burst out in hysterical laughter.
♦ ♦ ♦
The monotonous, insidious call of the corn vendor harassed him.
“Roasted corn! Eat some roasted corn!”
These wandering vendors — he despised them more than anything in the world; they cried their merchandise in the ears of the passers-by as if they offered an obscene invitation. This one was even worse than the others. He gave himself the airs of a conscientious, organized worker. The imbecile! He thought he was working because he pulled some ears of roasted corn on a cart! What stupidity! Rafik heard his call again, distorted by the distance, filling the night. He felt the mute cries of men around him, ready to devour him. He hurried on. The road was deserted now, but he felt the certain presence of monsters, always ready for murder. He felt them waiting behind the walls of houses, couching in the shadowy underbrush of the fields, and even in the dull sky above him.
Rafik prowled a few minutes under Imtissal’s window. He didn’t dare go up; he was afraid she’d be with a client. He’d never be able to survive such a humiliation! He suffered a deadly jealousy at the thought of Imtissal making love. He was tormented by visions; he stiffened under the intensity of his carnal memories. He glanced toward the entrance and was terrified by its look of a shadowy trap. The house was in deep shadow; the street lamps didn’t penetrate it. Its sinister façade and crumbling walls seemed buried in the night. Rafik couldn’t take his eyes off the entrance. His need to explain to Imtissal, that had brought him this far, had changed to a physical desire. Suddenly he felt himself torn apart, and a light split the darkness. A car passed at top speed, creating a wind of panic. Rafik felt himself caught and staggered like a drunken man. He couldn’t stand the least shock. His head ached, his limbs were weak and painful; he was afraid of falling on the
Similar Books
