“Saddened, Shakroun commented, ‘I wish you were abandoning all that for something better.’
“I told him, ‘Adventure is much better, and so is madness.’ He said he would never understand me, and I said, sarcastically, ‘Despite your follies, Shakroun, you have not known madness yet.’
“He asked, ‘Does that mean that you are abandoning your past because of love?’
“‘It is because of love that I have known madness in adventure!’
“Muhammad Shakroun finally gave in to reality. I sensed that he truly believed the tragedy did not lack real madness. He felt obligated to promise to help me determine Marwana’s and her mother’s inclination, saying that a lover needed support from a singer. His investigations confirmed for him that a person like Marwana would rather be killed than accept an illegitimate relationship. He asked me, annoyed, ‘What about your future? Even free adventurers need to eat.’
“Strangely, I had not given the matter the attention it deserved. For a moment I considered teaching Arabic and religion in a public school, but soon abandoned the idea. It clashed with the magical nature of my adventure. I replaced it with another idea — forming a singing group to interpret tawashih praising the Prophet. Shakroun gave me an honest assessment of my chances in that field.
“‘A long time would pass before you could hold such an evening, and your success is not guaranteed and requires hard work. The traditional way is to begin as a member in a group — something that does not suit you.’
“I thought about the matter and said, ‘I prefer to work in your band.’
“‘My band!’ he said, surprised.
“‘Why not? My voice is better than any of your support singers.’
“He said, ‘I owe you a lot, but …’
“I did not give him a chance to finish his sentence. ‘No buts, please. You entertain at parties at least one-third of the month, and are becoming better known every day.’
“Muhammad Shakroun fell silent, which encouraged me to tell him with great enthusiasm, ‘My desire to form a religious band will not wane. I will do it at the same time.’
“‘This is important,’ said Shakroun. ‘And you can count on my friendship with the agents of the religious ceremonies. I can’t believe what we are planning; it is like living a dream. But I still say that it would be possible to deal with the matter in a different way.’
“‘I will not go back even one step,’ I insisted. ‘I will have two outfits: a costume for your ceremonies and the gibba and the quftan for the religious band. Isn’t this amazing!’”
Jaafar looked at me in the quiet of the night and asked, “How much do you believe me?”
“I am old enough to believe anything,” I said.
“I want a stronger commitment,” he said. “Many are those who did not believe me, which both hurt and gratified me. I was hurt because innovative work requires witnesses, and I was happy to see my enterprising spirit acknowledged. I demand that people recognize me as an exceptional human being. It is my right to demand that. Few are capable of abandoning the lavish life I enjoyed, as swiftly as I did.”
“Was all this for love alone?” I asked.
He replied, disapprovingly, “Isn’t love sufficient? Love is creative madness!”
“Was Marwana so beautiful?”
“What is beauty?” he wondered. “The matter is a call that activates an electric key.”
“Didn’t you also want to deprive your grandfather of his only heir?”
“I never forgot my father’s tragedy, but my decision was pure, free of any hidden or declared desire for revenge.”
I ventured a second explanation: “Was it a reaction to the severe restrictions you imposed on yourself as a divine human being?”
He objected. “I refuse this explanation as well. I told you that it was an angelic move, like a song at dawn. Love ignited the spark, and its light revealed a dream that was taking shape, ready to raze the walls of the palace. It was getting ready to live, to confront wealth and restrictions and wallow in the dust of the eternal mother, like Buddha, who left his palace one day for a reason no one around him understood. These things happen suddenly and are not the result of a process of evolution, as you seem to think. It is a practical confirmation of a sudden creativity. I will give you a live example that took place at this exact instant: I have just decided against writing the petition.”
“What do you mean?”
He explained that he was referring to the petition concerning the monthly financial support from his grandfather’s waqf.
“Is this a return to a futile court case?” I asked.
“There will be neither a case nor a petition,” he replied.
I objected, and asked him to postpone discussing this question and carry on with his story. He laughed loudly as usual, and continued to narrate his story.
“One evening Muhammad Shakroun, limping, and I behind him, approached the old Bedouin woman sitting in her tent. When she saw Shakroun, she put aside her weaving tool and stood up, fearful. He said to her, ‘My friend would like to marry your daughter according to God’s laws.’
“The woman was shocked. Marwana ran far from the tent while Muhammad Shakroun was saying, ‘We are at your service.’ When she regained control of herself, she told him, ‘We have people we need to consult.’
“They had a distant relative we had to meet. It was a strange day. We were the first two strangers to enter Eshashal-Turguman in plain daylight without being killed. Some evil eyes stared at us, mockingly inquisitive and defiant. All activities stopped for a short while: the training of the monkeys, the herding of sheep, the weighing of drugs, the polishing of stolen goods, and the beating of drums. A group of children surrounded us and greeted us, chanting,
‘Pull the turban, pull.
Under the turban is a monkey.’
“We proceeded to meet a man sitting in front of his hut, while Marwana’s mother stood beside him. We greeted the very old man, who seemed on the verge of death, and Marwana’s mother talked on his behalf. ‘He welcomes you,’ she said.
“The old man hit her on the back and said, ‘You are damned because you consent to this.’
“Muhammad Shakroun said to him, ‘My friend is from a respectable family.’
“‘Tuzz,’ said the old man after he spat. “Embarrassed, Muhammad Shakroun added, ‘He has also a job.’ “The old man interrupted him, saying, ‘We do not care about a job either!’
“‘His conduct—’ began Shakroun, only to be interrupted again by the old man, saying, ‘Neither do we care about conduct.’
“Showing a great deal of patience, Shakroun said, ‘In a few words, we would like to ask for your girl’s hand according to the laws of God and the Prophet.’
“The old man laughed, revealing a toothless mouth. ‘Good riddance, but talk about her dowry.’
“Shakroun invited him to indicate the amount out of respect for his old age. Feeling important, the old man declared, ‘I want ten pounds placed in my hand.’ He stretched his hand out as he talked, provoking an angry reaction from Marwana’s mother, but the old man frowned and said, ‘Let’s read the Fatiha.’ Joyful ululations erupted everywhere around us.
“Sensitive to my feelings, Muhammad Shakroun did not make a single comment, and I decided to inform my grandfather of the truth, like any young man who has come of age and has completed an important part of his education. I sat close to his couch in the salamlik as he held a rosary in his hand, glorifying God, and his Siamese cat purring by his side. I felt an air of expectation and apprehension settle between us, provoked by my hidden intentions and his ability to discern people’s thinking. He asked his usual question: ‘How are you doing?’