The Harafish

  Encouraged by the tone of the conversation, she answered, “I’m free, absolutely free, but it all depends on you.”

  “Don’t forget you asked to marry him,” he said frankly.

  “Fear made me do it. I didn’t want to. You must believe me.”

  “I believe you,” he said cautiously.

  “But you have every right to act as you see fit,” she concluded lamely.

  A chasm yawned at his feet. What temptation, what madness wreaking havoc in his heart! He had reservations, but longed to suppress them. In the torment of insomnia, the victim takes the drowsy poppy and his brow relaxes to admit the gentle fingers of sleep.

  19.

  The burning days of summer passed. Qurra abandoned himself heart and soul to his passion for Aziza, trusting that love would defeat the legacy of the past. Aziza and Raifa played the part of affectionate sisters to perfection, and Unsiyya noticed nothing untoward. In the office of the grain merchant’s, Qurra and Rummana continued to work together, confining their conversation to business matters. So love and loathing coexisted.

  Aziza was soon found to be pregnant. Both families rejoiced, only Qurra wishing that it could have happened later, wondering exactly when the pregnancy began. An insect bored into the heart of the flower. The shining temple darkened with the breath of evil. The poisoned needle of doubt. But Aziza did not read his thoughts. She blossomed in innocence and love. He could no longer hold back. He was free, honest, and in love; he was also a believer with great faith in God. He became well acquainted with both joy and sorrow.

  20.

  Why wasn’t Raifa pregnant? The question echoed anxiously around both families. Raifa was worn down by it, and her eyes brimmed with hatred. Pregnancy was only slow to come if there was some defect; nature knew no delays. Suspicion, as usual in such cases, hovered around Raifa. Her mother was agitated and consulted the midwife, who made one suggestion after another. As the days passed, fear and apprehension took root and sorrows gathered like storm clouds.

  “What a fuss,” sighed Rummana in the bedroom one night, when he was drunk.

  “They won’t leave it alone. It’s hellish,” said Raifa angrily.

  “You’re like two peas in a pod. So what’ve you got missing?” grumbled Rummana.

  Overcome with rage, Raifa demanded, “I suppose you have it on divine authority that it’s my fault?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he answered angrily.

  “That’s what men always say.”

  “Shall I try myself out on another woman?” he roared in a drunken fury.

  Her head went up and she looked away with a snakelike twist of her neck. “Drunkard,” she muttered disdainfully.

  “Perhaps there’s a baby of mine inside another woman.”

  “You’re mad!”

  “Don’t call me names!”

  “You ought to talk! Filthy son of a bitch!”

  He rose to his feet threateningly and she backed away, ready to defend herself. He stayed where he was. “You barren witch,” he said venomously.

  It was the first quarrel of their marriage and its violence astonished him. But the desire which bound them together could resist any passing storms.

  21.

  Sheikh Muhammad Tawakkul was sitting with the bar owner, Sadiq Abu Taqiya, when Diya went by with her censer. Sadiq chuckled and whispered, “A Nagi’s chief of the clan again. I wonder why that old imbecile keeps on crying!”

  22.

  In early spring, when the vendors of roast chickpeas and melon seeds were out crying their wares once more, Aziza gave birth to a son whom they named Aziz. When things were calm again and Aziza was lying resting, Qurra bent over the newborn child and examined him with conflicting emotions. Aziza gazed at him, tender, weary, and proud. “He’s so like you,” she murmured.

  Why did she need to confirm that? As far as he could see the baby had no definable appearance, but she was talking innocently. She had completely forgotten the past and was absorbed in the loving present. His two companions, joy and sorrow, were competing for his attention, but he was determined to be happy.

  23.

  To preserve appearances, Rummana and Raifa paid them the customary visit and gave their nephew a gold-bound Quran. Rummana congratulated his brother and Raifa gazed at the baby for some time, exclaiming over his beauty. Aziza’s heart jumped when she saw Raifa’s expression as she hung over Aziz. Qurra behaved like any delighted father, all the time praying inwardly that God would show him the right path, enlighten him with the truth, that his love would not be put to the test as a result of misguided fears, that he would come to be as innocent and sincere as Aziza, and not cast himself voluntarily into hell.

  24.

  One night he took the child well wrapped up to the monastery square. He was greeted by a flood of melody as the anthems started up, and prayed God to graft the little one onto the tree of good men and heroes, to make him a vessel for sacred dreams and not a victim of destructive passions. His thoughts strayed to the narrow passage where Ashur had been left when he was the same age as his son. Like a cloud passing in front of the moon, dark thoughts invaded his mind. He remembered what had been said by his enemies about Ashur and his origins and was suddenly swamped by a sense of dreariness and decay. He took refuge in the anthems, letting them wash him clean of its rancid sweat, muttering to himself, “God give me strength.”

  The melody wrapped itself around him:

  Naqdha ra bovad aya keh ayyari girand

  Ta hame sume’e daran peye kari girand.

  25.

  As he emerged from the archway on his way home he heard a harsh voice asking, “Who’s there?”

  He recognized the voice of his brother Wahid, the clan chief, and answered, smiling, “Qurra Samaha al-Nagi.”

  The chief laughed. They stood, two shadows in the darkness. “Were you sitting up in the square like our noble ancestors?” he taunted.

  “I was taking the baby to see it.”

  “Congratulations. I was going to come and see you in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t you visit me at home?”

  “You know I avoid the place.”

  “It’s your home too,” said Qurra gently.

  In a different tone of voice, Wahid said, “I wanted to talk to you about something else as well.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “Our brother, Rummana.”

  Qurra sighed and said nothing.

  “He’s spending money foolishly. I don’t want to preach, but I know only the clan chief can afford to spend like that!”

  “He doesn’t take kindly to being told. It just makes him angry.”

  “It’s suicide,” said Wahid angrily.

  26.

  It seemed that whatever bound Rummana and Raifa together was more powerful than good and evil, and made their fights irrelevant. Neither thought of abandoning the other, however fiercely they quarreled. They bickered and made up continuously, mixing violent abuse and sweet talk, nagging and loving sighs, accusations and kisses. She believed he was infertile; he thought it was her. She never looked at another man, and he never dreamed of remarrying.

  “It’s fate,” he would declare when he was drunk.

  27.

  Radwan died after a short illness. He had kept himself so isolated that people had forgotten all about him and when he died they remembered him again for a few days. His share in the grain business went to Rummana and Qurra, and the rest of his inheritance was divided between his wife Unsiyya and his sister Safiyya.

  28.

  Rummana was no longer satisfied by drink and drugs and gradually turned to gambling to take the edge off his boredom. One day Qurra’s patience ran out and he confronted him in the office. “You’re spending money like water.”

  “It’s my money,” said Rummana coldly.

  “Sometimes you have to borrow from me.”

  “I always pay you back, don’t I?”

  “But it’s
harmful to the business, and we’re meant to be partners,” said Qurra irritably. “What’s more, you hardly do any work these days.”

  “That’s because you don’t trust me with anything.”

  Qurra hesitated, then said, “It’s better for both of us if we go our separate ways, and set up independent businesses before we go under together.”

  29.

  The family was upset by the news of the breakup, but Wahid visited Qurra and advised him frankly to do what he thought was in his interest. “Your son’s growing older by the day,” he said, and added scathingly, “Rummana’s a pig like our stepfather.”

  Safiyya had a meeting with Qurra and Rummana to put forward her proposal. “Qurra could run the business on his own and Rummana would receive a percentage of the profits to do what he liked with.”

  “I’m not a child, auntie,” protested Rummana.

  “The honor of the Nagis is in your hands,” she told them, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Honor!” repeated Qurra sorrowfully. “One of us is chief and it means nothing. Our father’s disappeared and my brother’s either drinking, gambling, or getting stoned.”

  “You’re our only hope, Qurra,” she said pleadingly.

  “That’s why I want to run my business alone.”

  30.

  Raifa was alarmed at the thought of the split and announced her fears to Rummana.

  “So you don’t trust me either!”

  “It would be easier to trust you if you gave up some of your bad habits,” she said appeasingly.

  “I’ll give them up automatically when I have to accept responsibility.”

  “Do you really know the work?”

  He frowned questioningly.

  “You need time to train, Rummana. Don’t be stubborn and foolhardy. It’s always your brother who makes the decisions. He does the deals, goes on the trips—he’s everything. And you, sitting hunched at your desk, are nothing!”

  He felt a surge of hatred. “What do you suggest we do, since he’s already made up his mind?”

  “He has to be stopped at any price,” she replied, malice dancing in her eyes.

  “By force?”

  “At any price. Do you know what it means if you go out on your own now? You’ll be bankrupt in a matter of days or weeks. One brother a notable, another clan chief, and the third a beggar!”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Make friendly overtures. Change the way you live. Share in the work. Then we’ll think again.”

  He was silent, a sullen expression on his face, and she reiterated, “You’ll lose out badly. What will you have left if you split up now? Think about it, and remember too…” She paused, then went on, “Remember too that nothing’s impossible.”

  31.

  Qurra was preparing to set off on an urgent business trip. Rummana suggested postponing their breakup until his return. He said, with uncharacteristic graciousness, “You might find me a different person when you come back.”

  32.

  That night the matter came up as Qurra and Aziza talked. “He doesn’t deserve to be trusted,” said Aziza in a matter-of-fact way.

  “I know, but there’s not time to arrange to dissolve the partnership now.”

  “Fair enough. But don’t delude yourself. He has no affection for you. He and his wife want to see us finished!”

  She watched Aziz as he played with a white cat. Her eyes softened. She gestured toward Aziz and murmured, “Your family dreams of him becoming clan chief.”

  “That’s the Nagis for you,” he smiled.

  “Whereas I think there are many ways to lead a good life.”

  “What about Ashur?”

  “Not him again! Don’t tell me you share their dreams.”

  “I’ll raise him the same way Khidr raised me, and then it’s up to him.”

  “It would be such a relief for you all if you’d only try and forget you were descendants of Ashur.”

  “We are, whether we like it or not.”

  Then his eyes rested on Aziz, and he said, “When will I be able to have him working with me in the office?”

  33.

  The driver took his seat in the carriage. Qurra said his goodbyes: Wahid, Rummana, Sheikh Ismail al-Qalyubi, Muhammad Tawakkul, and others were there to see him off. Muhammad Tawakkul took Rummana’s hand and asked Qurra ponderously, “Who will be there to take your place at times like this, master, if each of you opens up separate businesses?”

  Qurra ignored the innuendo and continued his conversation with Sheikh Ismail. Diya went by at that moment swinging her censer, her eyes full of tears. Her family was no longer enraged at the sight of her. “Diya’s come to bless you,” cried Wahid.

  They all took turns to shake his hand, then he climbed aboard. “Safe journey,” called Rummana.

  The bell tinkled merrily and the carriage moved off toward the main square.

  34.

  Such trips normally lasted a week. A week went by and there was no sign of Qurra. As they sat at home in the evening, they voiced their thoughts in turn.

  “He must have his reasons,” said Rummana.

  “You can’t calculate the time of a journey to the precise minute,” murmured Unsiyya.

  “Once he was two days later than he said he’d be,” offered Raifa.

  Aziza said nothing.

  35.

  Another day went by. The reassurances were repeated. “There’s nothing worse than being worried when you don’t know what it is you’re worrying about,” said Aziza to herself.

  36.

  The carriage went to the port at Bulaq every morning and returned empty each evening. Aziza stayed awake till dawn.

  37.

  The alley began asking questions about Qurra’s absence. Aziza sent for Wahid. “What do you think, master?” she asked her brother-in-law desperately.

  “I’ve decided to go and look for him myself,” declared the chief.

  38.

  Wahid was away for three whole days. When Aziza saw his face, her heart sank. “It must be bad news,” she cried.

  “His agents confirmed that he never reached them,” said Wahid despondently.

  “What can it mean?” demanded Aziza, white-faced.

  “Something tells me he’s fine,” said Unsiyya, with a confidence she did not feel.

  “Something tells me the opposite,” retorted Aziza.

  “Don’t succumb to morbid thoughts,” said Rummana.

  “There are more of your family missing than there are here,” shouted Aziza.

  “God grant these forebodings come to nothing,” said Unsiyya fervently.

  “Amen,” murmured Raifa.

  At this Aziza let out a wail. “What can I do? I’m a woman. I’ve got no power!”

  “I’ve taken the first step. There are other avenues to explore,” said Wahid.

  “He doesn’t have any enemies,” said Unsiyya.

  “That’s true,” agreed Rummana quickly, “but things can happen on the road.”

  Aziza sighed, and Wahid said, “I’ll leave no stone unturned.”

  39.

  One week followed another. The days went carelessly by. People gave their attention to the weather, to work, sleep and food, certain now that Qurra would never return to the alley.

  40.

  Aziza fought persistently against indifference and oblivion. Qurra’s disappearance was a disaster happening anew each morning. She was full of sorrow and anger, refusing to believe that the laws of existence could change in an instant. Worn out by emotion, she fell ill and lay in bed for a week. Again she summoned Wahid and told him, “I’m not going to let this rest, however long it takes.”

  “You don’t know how distressed I am, Aziza,” said Wahid. “It’s a matter of shame that this should happen to the chiefs brother.”

  “I won’t shut up.”

  “All my men have been told to give priority to the search, and I’ve asked the chiefs of friendly neighborhoods for
help.” He paused, then continued, “I went to my mother in Bulaq. She’s blind now but she came with me to the Bulaq chief. The whole world’s looking for Qurra.”

  41.

  Her father, Ismail Bannan, went to the local police chief, who promised to help in any way he could. The father tried to console his daughter and encourage her not to give up hope, but she said, “I feel I know the truth in my heart of hearts.”

  Reading her thoughts, he said apprehensively, “Take care you don’t malign innocent people.”

  “Innocent!”

  “You should watch your tongue!”

  “Those two are our only enemies.”

  “A brigand is everyone’s enemy!”

  “They’re our only enemies.”

  “You have no evidence except your past suspicions.”

  “I’m not going to let this rest, however long it takes,” she persisted.

  42.

  She rushed into Diya’s apartments, something no one normally dared to do, and found her sitting cross-legged on her mattress, absorbed in the patterns on the rug. She threw herself down at her side, but the woman did not look in her direction and seemed not to notice her. “Diya, tell me what you think,” she pleaded.

  Her voice did not penetrate Diya’s enchanted world. “Say something to me, Diya,” she whispered eagerly.

  But Diya neither heard her nor felt her, and made no response.

  Aziza felt she was struggling to reach an inaccessible place, making a ridiculous assault on the unknown.

  43.

  She lived in her apartments in semi-isolation with Aziz, even eating alone there. Rummana and Raifa came to visit her, their sorrow at Qurra’s disappearance conspicuously on show.

  “The way you keep yourself apart makes us doubly sad,” began Raifa.

  “I’m not in a fit state to mix with other people,” she declared, avoiding their eyes.

  “We’re your closest relations,” murmured Rummana.

  “Sadness is like an infectious disease that needs to be isolated.”

  “Mixing with people cures it,” said Rummana, “and you must remember we haven’t stopped looking.”

  “Yes. We have to find out who the killer is,” she said determinedly.

  “I don’t believe he was murdered,” exclaimed Raifa.