Gohar squatted next to him, and with an almost maternal delicacy and sweetness began to feed him. He behaved with the man as he would with an infant.
“Why did she leave?” he asked. “You had a quarrel?”
“Yes,” said the man. “That bitch is jealous. She never stops making scenes.”
“If she is jealous, then she must love you,” said Gohar. “Tell me what happened.”
“Well, it was like this. Tonight when she came to fetch me in town, she found me chatting with a young cigarette-butt scavenger. That made her furious. Every time she sees a woman come near me, she goes crazy with jealousy. And yet I am faithful. I can’t help it if women make advances to me. I swear to God! I don’t know what attracts them to me!”
Nour El Dine remained leaning against the doorframe like a condemned man at the stake. The words of the limbless man had trouble penetrating his consciousness. Was it possible? He couldn’t conceive of such pretentions, such self-conceit on the part of so hideous a human wreck. He had the feeling that the man was indecently putting on airs by speaking of the attraction he exercised on women. What especially fascinated Nour El Dine was the absence of any gestures; this absence conferred a grave, solemn tone on his words, the cold dignity of a talking machine. Nour El Dine wanted to burst out laughing, but a reflex of professional manners restrained him. He must keep a straight face at all costs. He had come this far to penetrate a mystery; perhaps he was finally going to understand.
The limbless man ate with a ferocious appetite. From time to time he glanced furtively at Nour El Dine; he still could not believe that this inspector was here on a courtesy call. Fear of being arrested made him swallow too quickly; he seemed to beg Gohar to hurry and, above all, not to abandon him.
“Don’t worry, she’ll surely come back,” said Gohar.
“Oh no! I don’t want her anymore,” said the man. “Let her go and get herself screwed somewhere else. I’ve had enough. And besides, she’s too old for me. I’m going to repudiate her. I intend to get remarried with a young virgin.”
He smiled lewdly, looked at Gohar, and added, “What do you think of that?”
Gohar recalled the horrible woman and was pleased at the thought of having a young neighbor soon.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “It’s always preferable to have a young woman. There’s no doubt about, it’s more enjoyable.”
“That’s right. What I want is a little virgin. I hope you’ll do me the honor of coming to my wedding. I’m going to give a nuptial dinner.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” said Gohar. “You want something to drink?”
“Yes, please. There’s the water jug.”
The water jug was against the wall behind Gohar. He took it, tipped it toward the man’s mouth, and helped him drink.
“Thank you,” the man said, after having drunk. “Believe me, I’m sorry to take advantage of your kindness like this.”
“It is an honor and a pleasure for me,” said Gohar.
“You can count on my gratitude. I would be delighted to render you any service whatsoever.”
“I am your humble servant,” said Gohar. “A neighbor like you is a blessing from heaven.”
This exchange of exquisite courtesies was not to Nour El Dine’s taste. He began to wonder if Gohar and the limbless man were making fun of him. For an instant he thought of leaving, fleeing this vision of hell. But something held him in spite of himself; he wanted to understand. If only they would explain to him how this man, this outcast from humanity, could excite a woman’s jealousy. But no, Gohar continued to converse tranquilly with the man, making a grand display of civilities as if it were a worldly conversation. Nour El Dine felt like an intruder, as if seeing a pair of lovers busy caressing each other. He had a strong desire to beat a retreat. He backed up slowly and found himself alone on the dark landing. But it was too late now to escape the trap that destiny held for him. Gohar’s voice already reached him, saying goodbye to the limbless man.
“Peace be with you! I’ll be back to see you soon.”
Gohar came out on tiptoe, his cane held above the ground, taking a thousand precautions, as if he feared to disturb the sleep of a sick person. With the happy air of someone who had just attended an amusing spectacle, he crossed the landing and pushed open the door to his flat.
“After you, Excellency!”
Nour El Dine hesitated before crossing the threshold, then he boldly advanced into the darkness like a man resolved to hurl himself into an abyss. He stopped, winded; he had just collided with a wooden object. He went around the obstacle and stood still, expecting to receive a knife in his heart. He had the feeling that Samir was hiding in the shadows, knife in hand, ready to kill him. For an instant this uneasiness was extreme, then he heard Gohar moving somewhere in the dark and soon a candle flame lit up the room.
“Would you kindly take this chair,” said Gohar. “I’m sorry the place is not worthy of you, Excellency! It’s a poor flat, but please behave as if you were in your own home.”
Nour El Dine let himself fall into the chair but didn’t say anything. What did this speech mean? Did he take him for an imbecile? Behave as if he were in his own home? It was the height of mockery. Nour El Dine almost believed that evil spirits were trying to ridicule him. He had expected to find a miserable room, filled with broken, dirty furniture, but not this extraordinary austerity, this marvelous emptiness as tempting as a mirage. This starkness seemed suspect and he looked around uneasily and suspiciously.
With his back to the wall, Gohar was seated on the packet of newspapers. He still wore his tarboosh and held his cane in his hand. It was cold and damp in the room. Nour El Dine buttoned the collar of his tunic, shook his head, and after a moment’s silence said, “It’s beyond all reason, Gohar Effendi!”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking about that beggar. What conceit! To hear him tell it, all the women run after him.”
“Don’t forget, Inspector, that that beggar is a gold mine because of his mutilations. Women are selfish.”
“Still! Such a horrible creature!”
“There is nothing horrible about him,” said Gohar. “Especially for a woman. That armless, legless man makes love as well as anyone. And even better than some, judging by what I happened to hear. Believe me, the woman’s voluptuous cries were not faked. And I confess that it’s rather comforting.”
“What’s comforting?”
“It’s comforting to know that even a man with no limbs can give pleasure,” said Gohar.
“Such a monster!”
“This monster possesses an advantage over us, Inspector. He knows peace. He has nothing more to lose. Just imagine, no one can take anything else from him.”
“Do you think you must go that far to have peace?”
“I don’t know,” said Gohar. “Perhaps you must become a man with no limbs to know peace. Do you realize the impotence of the government against a limbless man? What can it do to him?”
“It can hang him,” said Nour El Dine.
“Hang a man with no limbs! No, Excellency. No government would have enough humor to indulge in such an act. That would really be too much.”
“You are a curious person. Do you read all these newspapers?”
“God forbid!” said Gohar. “No, they serve as a mattress to sleep on.”
When he grasped the significance of the newspapers spread on the floor, Nour El Dine was seized with panic before such total poverty. Even the most miserable being slept on a mattress, he thought. How could you sleep on a pile of newspapers? In his mind that was proof of insanity.
“You don’t have a bed? You sleep on a pile of newspapers?”