“Why?”
She stared at me with her eyes wide and innocent-looking: “I don’t know.”
“She told me everything. I mean about the relationship between the two of you.”
Her face went pale. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“You don’t have to play dumb. I’m not asking you to explain yourself.”
“Why should I have to explain myself?” she shouted furiously at me. “I can do what I like.”
“Exactly.”
“Is it my fault I can’t stand you men and your boorishness, your egos and your lies?” she went on in the same agitated state. “You don’t know what Lebanese men are like. Their whole lives revolve around paying in installments, joining the rat race, and producing a son to carry on the family name.”
“They do that on account of you women.”
“I know. That’s why I always go back to him. Generally I prefer men.”
I laughed and her anger dissipated. She smiled.
“You’re a free woman,” I said. “As long as you’re happy.”
“I only knew happiness when my mother was by my side. She was strong. I wanted to be like her, so I took part in demonstrations.”
“When you were in college?”
She nodded. “Can you believe I used to shout out slogans for Palestine and Gamal Abdel Nasser, and against imperialism? Sometimes I shouted slogans for Mao Zedong.”
“And then what happened?”
“My mother died. Then I got married. I couldn’t find the cause that would sweep me off my feet.”
“Because you only love yourself.”
“How did you know?” she said, mockingly. “Actually, I love my body.”
“I’m being serious. You only take. I challenge you to recall one time that you gave.”
She smiled and gestured with her chin at the couch, saying, “Lots of times. With you, for example.”
“With me you took without giving,” I said.
She stood up and walked over to me, then sat on my lap.
“Don’t you want to give me something before you travel?”
She looked appealing, her face flushed with emotion. I put my arm around her waist and she leaned against my chest.
“I didn’t finish telling you what Adnan told me,” she said. “He is prepared to take a risk on your behalf. Because of the promise he gave you. But in this situation, you will have to relinquish all your rights.”
“Is that all?”
“No. There’s another idea. There is a Swiss company that is interested in publishing the book.”
“In Arabic?”
“Of course.”
“I didn’t know the Swiss read Arabic.”
“We will distribute it to Arab readers.”
“In Switzerland?”
“No, dummy. Use your brain. The book didn’t leave a single Arab regime unscathed. And then there’s the sex in it. What is the only place where it can be distributed without restrictions?”
“Lebanon,” I volunteered.
“Lebanon isn’t a distribution center. It’s only a production center. There isn’t a publisher in his right mind who would think of relying on Lebanese readers alone. Only one place can easily print and distribute the book.”
“Where?” I asked, puzzled.
“I didn’t think you were this stupid. Israel, of course. There are more than one and a quarter million Palestinians thirsting to read something in Arabic.”
I lit a new cigarette and noticed my hand was steady.
“Write us a letter authorizing us to act on your behalf,” she went on. “We’ll take care of the whole thing. It will be a lucrative deal, and you’ll be able to get some of the advance before you leave.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Are you paying in cash or in kind?” I asked.
She slapped my chest playfully. “You’re terrible!” she said. “You don’t deserve to be treated nicely.”
She leaned over me and put her cheek up against mine.
“You know, you haven’t slept with me yet,” she whispered in English.
I placed my palm on the triangular opening of her sweater, and ran my hand up her neck, up to her clavicle. My fingers probed the base of her neck, and I felt her skin.
“Do you like my neck?” she whispered.
She pushed her head back to give me an opportunity to admire her neck, and I put my fingers around it.
She closed her eyes and a purple tinge appeared on the skin of her neck, spreading to her chin and cheeks. The place where I touched her neck was soft and tender, and I gently pressed on it.
“Hey,” she said in a faint voice. “You’re hurting me.”
I suddenly sensed that I was fully erect. Without letting go of her neck, I undid my pants with one hand, and pushed her clothes to the side. Then I leaned on top of her and raised my right hand to her neck. I clutched it between my fingers while thrusting into her body.
A mysterious glow burned in the space of the room, coursing through my body and my entire being. My fingers continued to press on her neck muscles and their bulging veins, while my body moved on top of her.
Her face began to contort with pain. Her lips slackened into a moan, and her neck and face turned red. But I paid no mind. The fire was lit before me. My semen was welling up inside me and was on the point of bursting out and gushing forth. Every squeeze of my fingers on her neck became a step toward the edge of the pitch-black abyss, where the exploding volcano was, and absolute ecstasy.
Chapter 27
I didn’t choke her, and I didn’t have my orgasm. She gathered her strength and roughly pushed me off her. She was able to free her neck from my fingers. She jumped up and stared at me in alarm, while I collapsed into my chair, breathing heavily, my limbs quivering.
She raised her hands to her neck and moved her lips, but her voice was stuck in her throat. Without caring about her appearance, she grabbed her coat and bag, and hurried to the apartment door. She opened it and rushed outside.
I listened to her footsteps on the stairs. Then I slowly got up, adjusted my clothes, walked to the door and closed it.
The sun had set, and it had grown dark more quickly than usual. I turned the light on in the living room. I walked to the library and picked up a bottle of whiskey. I wrenched off the cap and took a swig directly from the bottle.
I looked for the pack of cigarettes, and found it on the floor beside the chair. I lit a cigarette with trembling fingers and sat back down.
I smoked the cigarette down to the end and stubbed it out in the ashtray. Then I walked to my room and brought my carry-on and suitcase out to the living room. I picked up the envelope that held my manuscript and put it back in the secret compartment in my suitcase.
I felt surprisingly cold and put on my jacket. I took a mouthful from the whiskey bottle. I looked at my watch, then lit a cigarette and went back to my seat.
After a while I heard a car horn, and I walked over to the balcony. I found a taxi in front of the building. I closed the balcony door, and checked to make sure I had my passport and plane ticket in my pocket. Then I slung the carry-on over my shoulder and picked up my suitcase. I cast a final glance around the apartment, then turned out the light and left.
Glossary
al-Amal: Newspaper belonging to the Phalangist Party.
al-As’ad, Kamil (1932–2010): Shiite Lebanese politician from a powerful family in Lebanon’s south. He served as speaker of the Lebanese parliament several times, including from 1970 to 1984.
al-Atrash, Sultan Pasha (1891–1982): Spiritual and political leader of the Druze tribes of Jebel Druze in southern Syria. Leader of a Druze revolt against the French in 1925.