The Dark Side of Love (72 page)

When he knocked, he found that a clever construction now opened the door automatically. Josef could pull a cord up on the second floor that undid the lock of the front entrance. Farid came in and stopped at the foot of the steep staircase. Josef appeared at the top of the stairs and he let out a yell of delight. “Farid's back! Farid's back!” And he ran down the stairs taking three steps at a time.

“You're still alive! Oh, that's marvellous!” he cried, embracing his friend, patting his head, and making incoherent noises like a lunatic. The entire family now appeared in the stairwell. Farid was touched. His own father was cold to him, but the family next door rejoiced at his return as if he were their own son. All of them, Josef's father, mother, aunts, grandmother, and those of his siblings who were still living at home welcomed him heartily. Even Josephine the rebel, who didn't like either Josef or his friends, came and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Well done,” she said. “I was afraid you'd be idiot enough to come back in a black habit and with a long beard.” She grinned.
“I have to admit, a few of my brother's friends do have something like intelligence.” Then she quickly stepped aside, avoiding a playful punch from her brother.

Josef liberated his friend from the family's clutches and took him to his room, where Farid marvelled at the new shelves, stuffed to the ceiling with books.

“What are the others doing these days?”

“Oh, a lot's changed. Our gang doesn't meet any more. We've grown bigger and older. Hey, I'm really glad you're back. There was hardly anyone left to discuss interesting subjects with me. But now, tell me what you've been up to in the monastery.”

When Farid went home after a long conversation with his friend, he was surprised by his mother's raised voice, which he could hear even before he went indoors. He had never heard Claire so angry before. “You'll have to decide. It's either me or the whores,” she finally shouted. Then all was still.

Elias was extremely nice to Claire at supper, although he still took no notice of Farid. When Farid said goodnight and rose to go to bed, Claire followed him to the bathroom.

“What's going on?” he asked anxiously.

“Don't ask. I'll tell you the whole story some day. But don't worry, I have everything under control. All right?” She put her hand out to him.

Farid kissed his mother's cheek, pressed her hand, and whispered in conspiratorial tones, “Well, watch out for yourself, Princess, and if the dragon roars too angrily, wake me up so that I can face him instead of you.”

Only thirteen years later did Claire tell him that his return from the monastery had brought about a great change in her. At the time, Elias was having countless affairs with other women, and she was constantly afraid of losing him. But then he made two bad mistakes in quick succession. He had endangered Farid's life for the sake of a vain whim. And because he was disappointed that his son wasn't
going to be a theologian after all, he went to a brothel on the evening when his wife and son came home. That had horrified and humiliated Claire so much that suddenly she wasn't afraid any more. While Farid was out visiting Josef, she had changed her clothes and marched off to confront the businesslike widow who welcomed rich men to her apartment and provided them with young prostitutes. Claire knew that Elias had been spending every other evening there for quite some time. The lady, a plump and bloated figure, had been arrogant and vulgar and tried to turn her away, but after two sharp slaps in the face she began wailing and begging Claire to understand her, she had four children to feed. Claire stayed where she was in the doorway, shouting, “Fetch my husband, or I'll make such a scene that none of your customers will ever set foot in this house again.” There was nothing the widow could do but go and find the sheepish Elias.

So that had been his meeting of the confectioners' guild. Claire wasn't going to keep quiet a moment longer, and she issued Elias with an ultimatum. If he ever touched another woman again, she said, she would go away overnight with Farid without any further warning. Elias gave in. The shock had frightened him badly, and from that day on he was as faithful as a dog.

“We thought you were in Paradise. We expected you back here any day to bless us, a young bishop and so on,” said Josef a few days later. “That's what my old man heard from your father at a meeting of the Catholic Men's League. You'd love it in the monastery and get to be incredibly clever, your father said, you were bound to be a cardinal within fifteen years. Suddenly my old man felt all envious and looked around, and who should his eye fall on but Josephine? Well, he thought, better a nun or an abbess than an extra woman about the house.”

“So what did she say?”

“When my father said a career as a nun would be just the thing for
her, and he'd already made some inquiries at the Carmelite convent, maybe she could try it for a couple of years, nuns lived like princesses, and so on and so forth. Josephine just stared at him in silence. Next day he repeated his wish, politely, which isn't usual with my father. You know him, he's gruff and harsh with everyone except my mother. Josephine just stared at him again and calmly ate her salad. And when she'd finished, she said in a very soft voice, ‘Papa, if you start on about that again I'm converting to Islam. I've made my own inquiries about that, and it's dead easy.' Wham! Crash! K.O. in the second round! That went home. Josephine went on spooning up her rice and beans. My powerful father the ex-boxer was left totally bewildered. My mother fitted his lower jaw back in place to keep the flies from shitting in his mouth.”

Josef was still laughing when the doorbell rang. “Oh, there you are, Matta!” cried his aunt Afifa. Farid had already tried to visit Matta, but he'd been out of luck.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn't be coming today. Did you get everything?” the boys heard Aunt Afifa call out in the corridor.

“All here,” replied Matta. Farid ran straight out of the room, and saw his friend coming upstairs heavily laden with cartons and bags. He carefully put the things down on the floor.

“Mary Mother of God protect you,” cried Afifa, who admired Matta's strength. As she tried to pick up the big sack of rice herself, Matta took it from her hand. “I'll do that,” he said, carrying the large, full sack into the kitchen after Josef's aunt. Farid saw that his head was covered with stubble and scars, and there were two shiny burn marks on his temples.

When Matta came out of the kitchen, Farid went up to him, and Matta's mouth opened in a grin of surprise.

“Brother,” he whispered, pointing to Farid. He said no more, although he was visibly moved. Afifa anxiously accompanied him downstairs.

“Why does that crazy boy call you brother?” asked Josef when they were alone again.

“Why? Well, everyone gets called brother,” replied Farid with some annoyance, because Arabs use the word
achi
, meaning “my brother”, all the time instead of just saying “you” or “my dear fellow”.

“He gave it a special sort of emphasis, though,” said Josef, shrugging.

Matta remembered hardly anything, except that Farid had given him warm clothes, stout boots, money, and provisions. His flight from the monastery had ended suddenly and in great confusion. The police were already waiting at the checkpoint on the main road. When he saw them he jumped out of the bus window, stumbled, and fell. His father, seething with fury, was waiting for him at the police station. After that it was all a blank.

He woke up in a shabby bed. His head hurt, but he could sit up. The walls of the room were smeared with graffiti and dirt. There was a white door and a narrow, barred window. Everything here was strange, so obviously he wasn't in the monastery's detention cell. He cautiously stood on the only chair, and found himself looking down at a park where men were walking around, laughing or talking to themselves. One of them kept banging his head against the trunk of a birch tree.

What is this place? he wondered. There was a knock at the door, and a young male nurse in a grubby white coat came in to put a bowl of vegetable soup and a piece of bread on the small table. The man's right eye was fixed and motionless, like the eye of a slaughtered sheep. “Feeling better now?” he asked, and then he was gone again.

Matta felt extraordinarily weary. He saw himself in the middle of a flock of snow-white sheep and lambs, playing a flute. The lambs looked up inquisitively, while the sheep kept their heads bent and went on grazing. Aida appeared in the distance, with a blue bundle full of provisions. As she came closer she stopped, and her expression became thoughtful, almost sad. “Why are you herding pigs? Surely you always wanted to be a shepherd, keeping sheep and lambs?”

“What pigs?” asked Matta, and then he looked and saw, to his horror, that his flock really had turned into a herd of pigs, all grinning
at him. He woke up with a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't swallow, his throat was too dry.

A red-haired young nurse came into the room. Without a word, she gave him two tablets and a sip of water. The medicine tasted bitter. When the nurse went out again she was marching like a soldier.

No one spoke to him. Where was Aida? He shouted for her, but it was the male nurse with the fixed eye who came in. At least he was kind and didn't beat him, like Brother John, but smiled. He held Matta firmly, saying that Aida was far away and couldn't hear him. Matta wouldn't eat any more. He was convinced that Aida had been killed. The male nurse tried to calm him, without success. “Bring her here, then, if she's alive,” Matta shouted at him. The male nurse did not reply, but looked fixedly at him again. Only later did Matta realize that the man had a glass eye.

Matta asked the red-haired nurse why he had been brought here, but she didn't answer, just turned and marched away. Perhaps she's a mute, thought Matta.

He was allowed to spend an hour in the gardens to get some fresh air, and met some odd people there. A wild-eyed young man in pyjamas approached him. “I wrote the Bible. I did, I was the one who wrote it!” he claimed. Another man took Matta's sleeve and drew him behind an old birch tree. “Listen carefully. I know the secret of the factory,” he whispered. His teeth were just black stumps.

“What factory?” asked Matta.

“The underground factory where they make human beings. Oh yes, I know about it, and if the United Nations find out the whole world will explode. Crash! Bang! But don't tell anyone.” As he spoke, he kept looking anxiously around. Saliva dribbled from his mouth. Then he stood to attention and saluted. “Step forward!” he called. A man in military uniform with a twig tucked under his arm was coming towards them. “How's it going at the Front?” asked the uniformed man, making the V for victory sign.

“Good morning, Sir Churchill,” said the man who knew the great secret of the factory.

Later, Matta learned that the man addressed as “Churchill” had once been an army officer, but an explosion had blown his wits away.

Two days later, the male nurse came to take him to a large room containing a huge, dark desk. The notice on the door said “Dr Salam”.

A dwarf with a bald patch and a red tie was sitting at the table. When Matta saw him he thought the man looked funny, and chuckled. Then he laughed louder and louder, wagging his forefinger at the male nurse to show that he'd better watch the dwarf, because he was about to do a handstand on the desk. However, the man with the glass eye was not impressed. The mute red-haired nurse was there too, standing motionless by the door.

Matta felt a painful pressure in his bladder. It wasn't his fault; they had forgotten to let him go to the bathroom that day. He saw a potted palm in a corner of the room, and went over to pee in the container, but he hadn't finished when a slap in the face knocked him down. Lying on the floor, he saw the male nurse standing over him, shouting something. Matta went on peeing. The jet of urine rose in a small curve and rained down on his trouser leg. The male nurse lifted him, stood him up, and tucked his penis back inside his flies.