The Big Man said nothing, so Azzam was encouraged and he went on, “I am covetous of your Excellency’s generosity. For the sake of the Prophet, don’t send me away brokenhearted! If Your Excellency could lower the percentage to an eighth, for example, I’d be most grateful.”
Another moment of silence passed. Then the voice of the Big Man rang out irritably, “Listen, Azzam. I don’t have time to waste on you. That’s the set rate and it’s the same for everyone. We go into any big business like your agency as partners for a quarter of the profits. We get that percentage in return for our work. We protect you from the tax office, the insurance office, the safety standards office, the audit office, and a thousand other offices that could bring your project to a halt and destroy you in a flash. And anyway, you especially should thank God that we’re willing to work with you at all, because you’re in a dirty trade.”
“Dirty?”
Azzam repeated the word in a loud voice and a murmur of denial escaped from him that provoked the Big Man even more, for his voice rose warningly as he said, “Are you really an idiot or are you just pretending to be one? Your basic profit comes from a dirty trade that has nothing to do with the Japanese agency. Bottom line is, you deal in hard drugs and we know all about it. Sit at the desk and open the file with your name on it. You’ll find copies of the reports on your activities — investigations by National Security, the Narcotics Squad, and Central Criminal Investigations. We have everything. We’re the ones who have put a hold on them and we’re the ones who can activate them at a moment’s notice to destroy you. Sit down, Azzam, and don’t be silly — read the file. Study it and learn it well, and at the end, you’ll find a copy of our partnership contract. If you feel like signing it, sign it. It’s up to you.”
The Big Man let out a derisive laugh and the voice was cut off.
Abduh greeted him with distaste. He shook hands with him coldly without rising, then averted his face and occupied himself with his waterpipe. Hatim smiled and said affectionately, “What kind of a way to greet someone is this? At least order me some tea!”
Without looking at him Abduh clapped his hands and ordered a glass of tea from the waiter. Hatim began the conversation by saying, “My condolences, Abduh. You believe in Our Lord and His power. But does grieving over your son have to stop you from seeing me?”
Abduh suddenly exploded, “Stop it, Hatim Bey! God forgive us, my son died because of me.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning Our Lord punished me for sinning with you.”
“So everyone whose son dies is being punished by God?”
“Yes. Our Lord, Glorious and Mighty, ‘delays but does not forget.’ I offended greatly with you and I deserve to be punished.”
“Who made you believe that? Your wife Hidiya?”
“What business is it of yours if it was Hidiya or anyone else? I’m telling you it’s over between us. Each one goes his own way. I don’t see you and you don’t see me ever again.”
His voice was agitated and strangled and he was shouting and waving his hands as though to push himself past the point of no return. Hatim said nothing for a while, then started to talk calmly with a changed plan in mind.
“Okay, old chap. We’re agreed. You’ve left the roof and the kiosk and you want to end our relationship, and I agree. But where are you going to find the money for yourself and your wife?”
“God provides.”
“Of course God provides. But it’s my duty to help you, even if our relationship is over. Despite your ill treatment, Abduh, I still care about you… Listen. I’ve found you a great job so you’ll remember me kindly.”
Abduh remained silent and seemed to be hesitating. He took a long draw on the waterpipe as though to hide his confusion.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what the job is?… I’ve recommended you for the post of doorkeeper at the French Cultural Center in El Mounira. It’s a decent and easy job and the pay is five hundred pounds a month.”
Abduh remained silent, neither accepting nor objecting. Hatim, sensing his success, went on, “You deserve the best, Abduh. Here.”
He took a pen and a checkbook from his purse, put on his glasses, wrote a check, and said, smiling, “This is a check for a thousand pounds to cover your expenses till you take over the new job.”
His hand remained extended for a moment until Abduh slowly stretched out his hand and took the check, saying in a low voice, “Thank you.”
“Abduh, I never forced our relationship on you. If you’ve decided to leave me, leave me. But I have one last request to make of you.”
“What request?”
Hatim leaned toward him until they were touching, put his hand on Abduh’s leg, and whispered in a passionate voice, “Stay with me tonight. Just tonight, and it’ll be our last. I promise, Abduh, if you come with me tonight, you’ll never see me again after that. I’m begging you.”
They sat next to each other in the car wrapped in a tense silence. Hatim was putting his plan into effect with precision and reckoned that in the end he would be able to keep Abduh, who would be incapable of resisting the attractions of the money and the new job, just as he would resume their relationship as soon as he had tasted the pleasure once again. Abduh for his part had justified his acceptance of Hatim’s invitation as something unavoidable imposed on him by his circumstances: since leaving the kiosk, he’d been unable to find the money to support himself and his wife, taking even his tea and tobacco on credit from the owner of the cafe, who was from his home village. He had borrowed three hundred pounds in less than two months from his Sa’idi acquaintances and he was fed up with his fruitless search for suitable work. He had worked as a day laborer, but he couldn’t stand it and left after a few days. It was no longer in his power to endure that kind of hard work, carrying the heavy basin of mortar on his back up and down all day long for a few pounds, half of which were stolen by the contractor, to say nothing of the insults and indignities. What was he to do, then? The job that Hatim was offering him was respectable and decent and would keep the wolf from the door forever. So why shouldn’t he sleep with him just tonight, do what he wanted just this once, and then cash the check, pay off his debts, cover his immediate needs and the moment he started his new job break off the relationship and close this dirty chapter in his life? He was confident that God would forgive him and accept his repentance and he would go at the first opportunity once this was over and make the pilgrimage so that he could return purified of all sin, just as his mother had borne him. It would be the last night for him to commit the sin and the next day he would announce his repentance and sin no more. Abduh decided privately that he would not inform Hidiya that he had seen Hatim because if she knew she would make his life hell. In fact, she hadn’t gone a day since the death of the child without fighting with him and abusing him and calling God’s wrath down upon him. The sorrow had caused her to lose her mind and she had become a heavy burden on his nerves, treating him as though he had murdered his son with his own hands. The sad thing was that the feeling of guilt had seeped into him from her and taken him over, often preventing him from sleeping. All that would come to an end tonight. He would satisfy Hatim’s body one last time, get the position, and stop sinning.