“How can anyone keep a secret when they’re drinking arrack? And what about the organisation’s orders and regulations? Or are they just for the likes of us?”
“So things were lax all along and we never knew! ‘Act first, talk later!’ ‘Commitment to the organisation!’ ‘Accuracy and secrecy!’ All this, and all along you lot were drinking arrack and toying with our fates!”
At last Hudaijan’s voice drowned out those of the others.
“Listen, brother Farid. You’ve all deceived us and led us into a disaster. We thought we were freedom fighters, and now we find ourselves in front of a group of reckless idiots. You’re all scum, not just Suhayhaf!”
Fahd was speechless at Hudaijan’s tone and his audacity, his calling him by his real name, without even addressing him as ‘Comrade’.
“Watch your step, comrade,” Fahd said, visibly angry. “We’re in a crisis. The party in this country is at a crossroads. We’ve got to think about how to handle the crisis and save the party. And how dare you address me as ‘brother’? I’m Comrade Fahd to you, or have you forgotten the party traditions?”
Hudaijan laughed sarcastically. “ ‘Comrade’ my foot! Mr Farid, we all know your real name; did you think it was top secret? No doubt the Secret Police know it too, now. You were having a laugh at us all along. The struggle, principles ...” Hudaijan began to laugh madly and then suddenly got up, saying, “In the end it’s all a load of rubbish. Here’s to your organisation and your party. With a little whisky this time,” he added with a laugh. “Don’t overdo the arrack! Come on guys,” he said, looking at Hisham and Abu Dharr, but neither of them moved and he left on his own, muttering something incomprehensibly and waving his hands about.
Of those still sitting there, Adnan appeared easily the most terrified; he was in a corner, withdrawn into himself, his hands trembling noticeably. Throughout he had been staring at Hisham, who was silent, his face pale and his fringe wet with ceaseless perspiration. Abu Dharr was the most composed, although he kept biting his fingernails. There was a long silence after Hudaijan had left, following which Fahd got up and ended the session without repeating the party slogan this time.
When they left, one by one as usual, Hisham found Adnan waiting for him at the end of the alley leading on to al-Hubb Street, but ignored him and headed for the beach without looking back. Marzuq and Zaki were sitting there facing the sea, Marzuq still livid. He felt he had been made the ‘laughing-stock’ of people who were neither responsible nor honest – “just a bunch of clowns,” as he put it. Hisham and Zaki listened as he put into words the bitterness they all felt, the humiliation of one who discovers at last that he has been the naive victim of people who failed to realise they were toying with the convictions and passions of others, while neither meaning what they said nor behaving in accordance with rules they themselves had laid out. It was about more than what had happened with Sulayhaf and Sheikhoun, it was about recklessness and indifference and what for some had become no more than an exciting adventure. It had all been exposed as a game, and a very silly game at that. There they had been, distributing pamphlets and recruiting supporters, while the others were off drinking arrack, giving orders and thinking themselves men of principle ... Marzuq laughed, his eyes strangely dark, and the Gulf returned the echo of his laughter.
When the three comrades parted that day, they agreed to meet again whenever the opportunity arose. Hisham later saw Zaki in Jeddah, but Marzuq he never set eyes on again.
48
Hisham went to the next meeting dying of curiosity, though at the same time he was wildly apprehensive. There was no other way to obtain more information than to keep going, as he reasoned that cutting his ties with the organisation would make no difference to the situation he now found himself in. The organisation had begun to collapse: arrests were coming thick and fast, and if his name had reached the Secret Police he too would be arrested in any case, while if it had not there was no reason to be afraid.
When he reached Fahd’s house Hisham walked up and down the narrow alley until he was sure there were no passers-by in sight, then knocked on the door, still nervously glancing in all directions. Fahd opened the door and bade him come in quickly, then closed the door again after glancing out into the alleyway. When Hisham went into the sitting room he found four other people there, none whom was familiar to him; they were all about thirty to thirty-five years old, with large moustaches and rough, unkempt beards. The whole place smelled of sweat and the air was thick with cigarette smoke. None of the former comrades were there apart from Fahd. When Hisham entered the other four stood up, and they all shook hands and sat back down around the tea tray, which was full of cigarette butts. The others were evidently surprised that Hisham was there and looked inquisitively at Fahd.
“I didn’t expect you to come, comrade,” he said, addressing Hisham. “In fact, I didn’t really expect anyone to come. Anyway, it’s a good thing that you have,” he went on, casting his eyes quickly over the others before looking at Hisham again. “We were talking about what’s been happening and what can be done. Let me introduce you to the comrades,” he went on, gesturing towards them. “Comrade Ahm –”
“Please, com – Please don’t,” said Hisham, interrupting. “Please don’t. If they already know about me that’s enough, but for my part I don’t want to know their names.”
Fahd nodded, exhaling smoke from the corner of his mouth and looking at Hisham listlessly. “The organisation has collapsed, comrades,” he said, addressing them all. “The party has collapsed. No one’s left except us. Everyone else has either been arrested or fled or abandoned the organisation in its crisis.”
As Fahd fell silent one of the others burst out, “Our task is to save the organisation from total disintegration!” The speaker had the strong and unmistakable accent of the al-Ahsa oasis area and was smoking a strange kind of cigarette that came in an odd packet and had a foul smell. Hisham was surprised by this declaration. Everything was over, and yet here this man was, talking about the organisation as though it still existed. He was about to make a comment when one of the others got in first.
“We’ve received news that Comrade Said al-Qammar has died.”
They were all quiet for a moment before Fahd said, “Let’s stand for a minute’s silence in memory of our heroic comrade.” They all duly stood for a minute, which seemed like an age, then sat back down.
“It’s our duty to rebuild the party,” said one of the others. “We’re here today to elect a new General Secretary and a new leadership to reconstruct –”
“You lot are strange,” said Hisham, unable to hold back. “Everything’s collapsed, there are arrests going on everywhere, and yet here you are, talking about continuing. This is madness.”
“But resistance is imperative, comrade,” said the fourth person, who had been silent until now.
“This isn’t resistance, it’s insanity,” said Hisham, “yes, insanity. The only imperative is for everything to end, and the reality is that it already has.”
“What our comrade says is fair,” said the man with the al-Ahsa accent after a short silence. “But it’s hard for us to abandon the organisation after we’ve spent all these years building it up. Perhaps we might freeze all activity indefinitely.”
Hisham smiled despite himself: what was the difference between freezing the organisation and dissolving it? The end result was the same, but this person did not want to face the truth of the matter; he had to dress it up in some form he could accept. “Let’s do that, then,” Hisham said, “if you’re all agreed.”
Hisham moved to stand up; he could not believe that everything was over, that he had at last come to the end of the labyrinth. Now he could return to the real world that he had neglected for more than two and a half years, to his books and his mother and father and the gang and Noura ... At last the nightmare had ended. But perhaps the real nightmare was only just beginning? He felt his stomach contract at the thought of prison. Terror swept ov
er him again.
“One minute, comrade. There’s one last thing we’ve got to do.” This from the man with the al-Ahsa accent again. Hisham sat back down, anxious. exasperated and curious all at once. The man removed a plastic envelope from a paper bag and opened it to reveal a bundle of new one-hundred riyal notes. It was plainly a large sum of money. The man threw the wad into the middle of the circle.
“There’s seven thousand, five hundred riyals,” he said. “It’s the organisation’s entire funds. What are we going to do with it?”
They all looked at one another in silence. It was a vast amount; Hisham was quite dazzled.
“Why don’t you keep it till after the crisis is over, Comrade Abu Said?” someone said, addressing the Ahsai. “After all, we’ve frozen the organisation, not dissolved it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied. “I might be arrested at any moment.”
“Then let’s put it in the bank until things are clearer,” said one of the others.
“In whose name?” came the immediate reply. “That’s not a practical idea, comrade! Whoever’s account it was would be asked where he’d got such a large amount of money from, and we’re all just ordinary officials.”
“So what shall we do, then? Give it to the poor, or throw it into the street, or give it to charity?”
They all laughed briefly. “Why?” one of them commented with strange mirth. “The poor should rely on God.”
There was another pause as they each bowed their heads and began smoking with the exception of Hisham, who was looking at the empty teapot in front of him.
Fahd spoke up. “Comrade Abu Huraira should look after the money. He’s the youngest among us and the least likely to get arrested. No one knows him.”
The proposal met with unanimous approval as the others quickly expressed their agreement, but Hisham protested.
“No, I can’t. Where could I put a huge sum like that, when I’m still a student and live with my mother and father? It’s too much of a responsibility for someone in my position. No. No, I can’t.”
He was not being completely honest in his excuse, but he wanted to be rid of anything that could tie him to the organisation – he, who could not believe that everything had ended as well as he had wished, especially now that he had confirmation that none of those arrested had known him. This instantly gave him greater peace of mind and enabled him to relax for the first time since the previous session, when Fahd had announced the discovery of the organisation. Fahd put the money back in the envelope and shoved it at Hisham.
“The decision has been taken, and all that’s left is for you to carry it out, comrade,” he said firmly. “You’re the best choice.” Before Hisham could say anything, Fahd stood, the others rising with him.
“So this is goodbye ...”
They all shook hands and slipped out one by one, after hastily repeating the party slogan for the last time.
49
Hisham mulled over the strange game fate was playing with him. He wanted to be free of every tie to the party, but he was destined to be bound to them one way or another. Here he was, carrying a sum of money so large he could feel it weighing down on his chest where he had concealed it, with no idea what to do with it or where to hide it. He reached his house in a state of acute agitation, and went to his room and locked the door. He took the money out from under his vest and put it in the lower drawer of his desk, covering it up with some textbooks, then threw himself on his bed. What could he do about this disaster now confronting him? Why not give the money to his father to do whatever he liked with it? Hisham laughed at this foolish idea: if his parents had called him to account over a bird he had bought for a quarter of a riyal, what would they do if he came with a fortune of unknown origin? In any case, the money was not his, so how could he possibly spend it? Yes, he used to pay a contribution of five riyals every month to the organisation, but that did not give him the right to seize the lot; as salaried officials, for instance, Zaki and Marzuq used to pay a monthly contribution of ten riyals each, so from that point of view they had more of a right to it than he did: why not give the money to them? But he quickly dismissed the idea. The money had been entrusted to him, and he had to look after it as it was until someone from the party came to collect it on its behalf. It could remain in his safekeeping until whenever. But where should he hide it in the meantime?
He got up and fetched some cellophane and tinfoil from the kitchen. Back in his room he wrapped the money in the cellophane and put it back first inside the plastic envelope, then the paper bag, before wrapping the whole lot in tin foil followed by the rag and putting it in a small empty ‘Nido’ milk carton. Next, Hisham checked that his parents were in the television room before slipping out into the back yard. Shrouded by the dark, he began burrowing with his bare hands into the soft, damp sand in a corner near the door to the women’s quarters. His heart was racing; from time to time he would go over to the window of the television room and listen to make sure his parents were still there, then return to dig, until he had reached a depth he was satisfied with. He placed the carton in the hole and piled the sand on top until he had buried it completely. Having finished the job, he took a deep breath, relieved. After a quick shower outside, he returned to his room and gave in to his need for a short nap, waking later to his mother calling him to supper.
50
The next few days were a time of fear and anxiety. Exams had started and the arrests continued relentlessly, following the discovery of yet another organisation. Many of the people Hisham knew and who knew him had been taken into custody, and everywhere there was a feeling of panic. Rashid told him that Fahd and Mansur had both been arrested and that he himself had decided to flee to Bahrain, where he would decide where to go after that, and he advised Hisham to do the same. But he could not: exams had already begun, and he had no wish to force a burden on his parents that neither would be able to bear. That he would abandon his exams without getting his diploma and shock them with the story of the clandestine organisation and the possibility that he might be arrested and sent to prison, after they had placed all their hopes and trust in him, was something they would not be able to cope with. Instead he decided to leave his destiny to that joker, fate.
He grew more anxious each time he found out that another comrade had disappeared, or when people failed to turn up for school during the exam period. Even Hasan al-Sabah had vanished. Hisham tried to reassure himself that Fahd and Mansur would never confess and betray him. The days went by and still he had not been summoned, which enabled him to relax more and more as time passed. These days the headmaster’s office was a hive of activity. Apart from the exams and all that went with them, unidentified men were coming to the school every day to meet with the headmaster in private, departing later accompanied by one or more pupils. The headmaster’s office had become a veritable operational headquarters. Hisham tried to dispel his anxiety by concentrating on revising, as well as meeting Noura whenever the opportunity arose, but worry and fear still imposed themselves all the same. Even Noura’s kiss no longer had any flavour for him, it was just the meeting of lips with no sensation as his mind was distracted by thoughts of the exams and prison alike.
Adnan’s terror was alarmingly apparent on his face. He came to see Hisham once, after the end of the French exam. Adnan was a spectre, his face was wizened and dry from fearful insomnia. He was studying hard without achieving the results he had hoped for.
Hisham remembered their shared revisions in carefree, happier times. “It’s not fair,” Adnan once shouted straight out. “I revise all the time while you spend your time day-dreaming about Lolita and her exploits, and still you get better results than me. It’s not fair. The earrings always go to the one who hasn’t any ears, as the Egyptians say.” Both friends had roared with innocent laughter. Adnan was no fool, but he was incapable of concentrating; furthermore his father had forced him to take science subjects – he, who was mad for the arts and could not
bear the dryness of the pure sciences. Even Hisham had been obliged to take sciences, as his father wanted him to become a doctor or an engineer, but he was better able to concentrate even on subjects he disliked. His heart had been set on studying economics, but he took sciences to please his father; after that he was determined to do what he wanted to. Usually he and Adnan would revise in the street under the lampposts, to get away from the stifling heat indoors and the watchful eye of their parents, who gave them no room to talk freely.
As Hisham took his break on the little balcony overlooking the courtyard, Adnan approached him shyly and stood next to him for a little while. Hisham made to move away, but Adnan stopped him.
“Hisham, are you still angry with me?” he asked in an almost inaudible voice.
Hisham stopped and looked at him closely, noticing that Adnan’s face had lately also broken out in spots. “Not exactly,” he said, looking away quickly. “You don’t matter enough to me for me to be angry with you or otherwise.”
“So you are still angry with me,” Adnan said, with deadened eyes. Hisham was hesitant; he stayed where he was, which encouraged Adnan to keep talking. “I haven’t seen Mansur any more,” he said, with fear in his voice, “and I don’t go to the group, either. Do you think he’s been arrested? When I last saw him he was scared. Do you think he’s been arrested?”
“Mansur has been arrested,” Hisham said quietly, looking at the courtyard. “Fahd, too. What are you going to do?”
“I’ve no idea. My father’s got to know about it all. I’ll think about telling him after the exams, God willing.”
Hisham smiled despite himself: God’s popularity was on the rise these days. If Marx himself were in their position he might be mentioning God a lot as well ...
“Don’t be afraid. I think we’re in the clear. None of the people who know us will make a confession betraying us, and there aren’t many of them, anyway. And everything’s finished; I don’t think they want to arrest any more people, as long as they’ve achieved their aim,” Hisham said, trying to reassure himself more than Adnan. There was a silence.
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