“Now explain this to me. What is this madness?”
“It’s not madness,” said Serag. “Father, try to understand; I want to work.”
“Allah help us! You want to work! Why? What don’t you like about this house?”
“I can’t tell you, Father! I need to go away.”
“Ungrateful son! I’ve fed you and dressed you all these years and this is my thanks!”
“What ingratitude is there in wanting to work, Father? I don’t understand.”
“You want to cover us all with shame!”
Old Hafez was thinking of the ridicule Serag’s departure would bring the family; he trembled for his marriage. Such a scandal would surely cost him the good will of respectable people. He already had worries enough because of his infirmity which, at least, wouldn’t be seen until his wedding night. But if his youngest son left, and especially to go to work, he would really be overwhelmed by shame.
“Father, let me go! I promise to come back tonight. Don’t worry.”
“And who says you can come back! You think people can come and go as they please? What if the police arrest you?”
“Why would the police arrest me?” asked Serag, stunned.
“For nothing,” said old Hafez. “Then there are the streetcars, the automobiles, the cabs — all kinds of dangers. And what about the government. You’re not afraid of the government?”
“What’s the government going to do?’
“The government’s against revolts,” said old Hafez. “They’ll put you under arrest.”
“But I haven’t done anything against the government,” said Serag.
“The government won’t ask you for explanations. They’ll lock you up, I tell you!”
“Because I want to work?”
“Yes, those are subversive ideas; can’t you understand that? I’d like to know who put such ideas in your head. You were born in an honorable family. I beg you not to ruin our reputation.”
“Especially right now when we need it,” said Rafik.
Old Hafez seemed to ignore Rafik, lying behind him on the bed. He had caught the sarcasm in his words, but controlled himself, and gave vent to several menacing groans. He didn’t want to make the scene any worse. His first concern was Serag’s departure. He’d take care of Rafik later.
“Why are you awake! My word! It’s only dawn!”
It was Galal, awakened by the noise of the discussion. He feared some new mishap and had come to find out what the trouble was.
“It’s your brother Serag,” said Rafik. “He’s decided to go to the city to look for work.”
“Poor boy!” said Galal. “God help him.”
“God is with the lazy,” said Rafik. “He has nothing to do with the vampires who work.”
“You’re right,” said Galal. “Where can I sit down?”
He looked around, saw the bed occupied, and slid down against the wall. He put his head on his knees and went back to sleep.
“Good heavens, he’s asleep!” said old Hafez. “Galal, wake up! Speak to your brother. You’re the eldest, maybe he’ll listen to you. He doesn’t listen to me, his own father.”
Galal raised his head wearily; he seemed irritated.
“You want me to talk to a fool! I’ve enough trouble with the mouse.”
“The mouse!” said old Hafez. “He’s dreaming. What can I do?”
“There’s nothing to do,” said Serag. “I have to go.”
“You hear,” said old Hafez. “He’s going to leave. I have no control over this boy!”
“Let him go,” said Rafik. “He’ll learn about life. It will teach him a lesson.”
He got up slowly, leaned over and looked between his father’s legs. He wanted to see the hernia. The hernia was there, very noticeable under his nightgown. It was even bigger than he’d hoped. He smiled diabolically and lay down again.
“I’ll buy you a new suit,” said old Hafez, at the end of his arguments. “Does that please you? You can go to the tailor’s today. What more could you ask for? You see, I do everything to be agreeable.”
“It’s not a new suit I want,” moaned Serag. “Father, don’t you ever understand?”
“How do you expect me to understand?” said old Hafez. “Ungrateful child! Do I go out? Do I go to the city? What makes you any better than me? By Allah, I’m sorry I sent you to school! What did they teach you at school, tell me?”
Uncle Mustapha hadn’t said anything. He didn’t dare speak for fear of giving himself away. Actually, he was the only one who appreciated this departure, who thrilled at this promise of adventure. He, too, wanted to go away, to leave the house and the sleep-filled disorder that was like a nightmare. He gazed at Serag, moved to tears. He would have liked to go with him.
“My dear Serag,” he said, “if you ever go to the city, don’t forget to go by Emad El Dine Street. That’s where my apartment was.”
“Your apartment,” said old Hafez. “What has your apartment to do with this?”
“I’d like him to see it, that’s all,” said Uncle Mustapha.
“This is impossible,” said old Hafez. “You’re inciting the child to leave with such ideas. Is that how you help me?”
“He wants to show us he lived in a nice apartment,” said Rafik. “Don’t bother, we’ll take you at your word.”
“That’s not what I meant, I assure you,” said Uncle Mustapha.
“Drop this,” said old Hafez. “Haven’t you any pity for your old father?”
“You’re making us unhappy,” said Uncle Mustapha.
“I’m not trying to make you unhappy,” said Serag. “I just want to work.”
“How can we help being unhappy if we know you’re working,” said old Hafez. “We’re not egoists like you. Come, be reasonable. You’re going to make me weep.”
Old Hafez began to sniffle very effectively. He had decided on this as a last recourse to soften his son. Uncle Mustapha joined him. He had been holding back his tears but now he could let them flow. They had reached the crisis of the drama. No one, after this, could do anything.
“All right,” said Serag. “I won’t go. Only, I beg you, stop crying.”
“At last you’re reasonable!” said old Hafez. “You’re a joy to your father. Come kiss me!”
Serag went up to his father and kissed him on the forehead. He felt miserable and ashamed.
Old Hales began to call for Hoda in a piercing voice that woke Galal.
“What’s the matter now? Where are we?”
“He’s not going,” said Rafik.
“So much the better,” said Galal. “Then this is over. I can go back to bed.”
Hoda was waiting anxiously in the kitchen for the result of this family debate. She came running at her master’s call.
“Come here, girl!” said old Hafez. “You’re to fix a chicken for lunch today. Do you hear?”
He turned to Serag and said:
“Serag, my son, don’t worry. We’ll all go see the city some day.”
“Don’t count on me,” said Galal.
XII
There was nothing but those street lamps that flickered in the night, creating, all along the road, large patches of provocative shadow. Each time he reached one of these spaces in the night, Rafik slackened his pace and savored a moment of peace. He had really decided to see her; he didn’t hesitate as he had the last time. The desire he had felt for her was gone, leaving no trace of regret or bitterness. He’d thrown it away as a dead thing. He realized now that this long forgotten desire of the flesh would inevitably have led to an end of his happiness. He no longer wanted anything but the endless joy of sleep.
He felt lighter, as though moved by a gentle, tranquil power that seemed to have taken possession of him. To have grasped this elemental truth, hidden at the bottom of life — the way of the least effort — filled him with pride and gratitude. He felt as though he were floating in a decaying world that hadn’t yet discovered its true nature. The stupidity of men was boundless. Why did they have to struggle, always vicious and discontented, when the sole wisdom lay in a careless, passive attitude? It was so simple. The least beggar could have understood it!