At the end of his day’s wanderings, he found himself stranded in Anwar Sadat’s front yard. He was unarmed, and had no intention of killing the man. He only wanted to talk. What made him hesitate was embarrassment, not fear. When he saw the door open and spotted Anwar Sadat, still in the clothes he had worn that morning, appearing exactly as imagined, Margio went to him. He had to speak while he had the courage.
“I know you slept with my mother and Marian was your daughter,” he said.
The declaration hung in the air. Anwar Sadat was ashen-faced.
“Marry my mother and she’ll be happy.”
Anwar Sadat shook his head nervously, and his reply came out brokenly.
“That’s impossible, you know I have a wife and daughters.” Something in his face said the proposition was absurd, making what he said next redundant. “Besides, I don’t love your mother.”
That was when the tiger came out of Margio, white as a swan.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Tariq Ali and Benedict Anderson for all their help and advice as early readers of this translation.
E. K.