Hassan lowered his eyes to hide the grim look that appeared in them. He was infuriated, and had his anger been aroused by anyone other than Hassanein, he would have exploded. He was hurt that Hassanein knew more than he pretended to know about him and that he treated him like a child. Had Hassanein spoken his mind, had he described him as being as evil as his companions, he would not have felt angry as he did now. Determined to tear off the mask which concealed the true drift of their conversation, Hassan, still restraining his anger, spoke curtly in a tone different from before. “I’m one of these evil people!”
Hassanein was astounded.
“Hassanein! Stop pretending to be astonished,” Hassan said roughly. “You’re not a fool. Neither am I. You’d better speak to me as frankly as you always used to. What’s so strange about my being a black sheep? Haven’t I always been one, all my life?”
Sullen and ashamed, Hassanein lowered his eyes. His thoughts shattered, he fell speechless. Relieved by his brother’s confusion, Hassan’s merriment returned. Desiring to put an end to this painful conversation, he said, “Let’s forget about the whole thing. Damn the coward! But for his childish panic, our conversation wouldn’t have taken this foolish course. Now let’s discuss more important matters. I’ve no doubt,” he said, laughing, “that you’ve come to talk to me about a more important subject!”
Hassanein collected his thoughts. “I have, in fact,” he said with a sigh, “come only to discuss this matter with you.”
Hassan’s face clouded with resentment. “I thought,” he said ironically, “you’d come to ask for money.”
Although he knew how angry his brother was, Hassanein did not waver. Ingratiating himself with his brother, he said gently, “Thank you for your previous kindness. But I’m no longer in need of money. I’ve come to discuss a matter much more serious than money. I want to reassure myself about you.”
Hassan cast a piercing look at his brother. “I still demand that you be more frank with me!” he said in an ironical tone. “My respected officer, you want to get reassured about yourself and not about me!”
In defeat and indignation, Hassanein answered, “They are one and the same.”
“Really? I see things differently. Why didn’t you give me this piece of advice before? A year ago, for example?”
Having inadvertently said that he had come only to discuss this matter, it was impossible for him to pretend that he had known nothing about it. Annoyed, he posed this question to avoid answering his brother: “Don’t you see that I’m interested in your own good?”
Hassan ignored the question. “A year ago,” he continued in the same ironical tone, “you were in desperate need of money. So you didn’t care then to give me advice. Now that you’ve become an officer, your sole concern is to protect this shining star on your shoulder.”
Hassanein’s face remained unchanged, but his heart palpitated with anger and irritation. He seemed shaken by the fact that Hassan was able to penetrate the depths of his soul with such ease and accuracy. “Brother,” he said softly. Hassan motioned to him to keep silent.
“I’ll be entirely frank with you,” Hassan added recklessly. “If you really want to know what my work is, I’ll tell you that I’m a bouncer for a coffeehouse in Darb Tiab.” He pointed to the photograph above his head. “I also keep this mistress and deal in narcotics.”
“I don’t believe you,” Hassanein exclaimed, worried.
“Yes, you’d better believe me. Perhaps you guessed it earlier and now you’re sure of it. Now what do you think?”
In silent pain and compassion, the young man looked at Hassan. But as the silence weighed heavily upon him, he said sadly, “Nothing would make me happier than to see you start a new, honorable life.”
With a loud laugh, Hassan said sarcastically, “By virtue of my dishonorable life, I was able to protect our family from starvation, provide your brother Hussein with the money he needed to start his government job, and to provide you as well with the installment of the College fee which, thank God, has made you an officer.”
Hassan’s words, as sharp as a needle, pierced Hassanein to the marrow. Life seemed about to suffocate him. But a strong desire to defend himself prevented him from accepting defeat. “All of this has come about,” he said, “only by virtue of your nobility of character, not because of such a dangerous life as this!”
“Don’t deceive yourself. They call me Mr. Head, not Mr. Noble. Besides, what do you mean by a dishonorable life? Or an honorable one? There’s only one life, in which we all strive to make a living, each in his or her own way.”
“But there is a secure life and another kind of life that flies into panic at the mere mention of the police.”
“This is due to the arbitrary actions of the police and we’re not to blame. For heaven’s sake, what do you want me to do?”
Hassanein’s enthusiasm returned in what he thought might be a ray of hope. “Abandon this life and take an honest job as before.”
Bursting into laughter, the man said with astonishment, “A mechanic’s apprentice? Asking me this is like asking a man to resign from the army to start school life at Tawfikiyah.”
Once more the blood in Hassanein’s veins boiled with anger. Composing himself, he asked with a smile, “Don’t you realize how such a life must inevitably end?”
“Either I’m imprisoned or killed!” Hassan answered in ironic simplicity. “And if it’s my fate to be killed, then, naturally, I’ll be saved from imprisonment.”
Hassanein pretended to laugh, but his anger increased, especially at his brother’s recklessness. Almost desperate though he was to change Hassan, he replied gently, “Obviously, you realize the danger, so you don’t need me to remind you of the disastrous consequences of your kind of life. For God’s sake, be wise enough to take care of yourself.”
Hassan cast a prolonged, smiling glance at his brother, as if saying to him, “Don’t try to deceive me with your softness.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “May God forgive me; but I should rather say, don’t be worried about yourself and your reputation. My advice to you is, don’t burden yourself with unnecessary worries and shut me entirely out of your life. Don’t worry about what people may say about you because of me. Despite what people say, you can lead the life that appeals to you.”
Desperate and exasperated, Hassanein sighed. He was filled at this moment with black anger toward his brother, and actually wished he didn’t exist. But the fact remained that he did exist and his existence, hanging like a sword over his head, was a perpetual threat to him. What should he do? Sighing again, he inquired, “Isn’t there a gleam of hope that you’ll return to an honorable life? Is this your final word?”
Hassan became furious. As if afraid of what he might do to his brother in his fury, he leapt to his feet and walked back and forth across the room, thus giving vent to his pent-up anger in his violent strides. He leaned on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed against his chest. “An honorable life!” he shouted impatiently. “An honorable life! Don’t let me hear such words from you again. You make me sick. A mechanic earning a few piasters a day. Is this the honorable life you’re talking about? I’d rather spend my life in prison. If I’d followed your honorable life all along, that star would not be decorating your shoulder. Is it only my life that isn’t honorable? Young officer, you’re laboring under a delusion. Your life is no more honorable, since mine is its origin.” He pointed again to the photograph. “I’ve made an officer of you with illegal money obtained from this woman and from traffic in narcotics. So you’re indebted for your uniform to narcotics and this prostitute. Fair enough; if you really want me to abandon my tainted life, then you, too, must abandon yours. Go ahead, take off your uniform and let’s start a new honorable life together.”