Absent: A Novel

by Betool Khedairi

  My aunt and I won’t be missing each other tonight.

  I go down to the ground floor to spend some time with Saad. He has just been to visit the owners of the orchard to console them about their impending bankruptcy. He is a slick communicator, and he ends up buying a large container of date arak from them, to try it out.

  It is an onerous sundown. The fears of a further bombardment of the city are renewed. The activities quiet down as everyone questions the shape of the morrow. Saad is playing a tape of soothing Chinese music. The soft tone of the singer reaches our ears like the mewing of a cat. “Has Umm Mazin settled in?”

  “Not yet, her low blood pressure is stopping her from getting about.”

  “Maybe she needs a curative potion!”

  Badriya has taken over looking after her affairs that have been put on hold. She spends hours on the fifth floor trying to clean up their flat, then returns to the second floor to look after her mistress.

  “And your aunt?” he asks.

  “She spends most of her time sitting beside the telephone. She distracts herself by sewing, then goes down and joins Umm Mazin.”

  “Your aunt is loyal; always waiting.”

  “Does she love him that much, Saad?”

  “Perhaps she hates him.”

  “How, after all these years of being together?”

  “This is a case that builds itself with time, it’s called the relationship of ‘I love you because I hate you, and I hate you because I love you.’”

  He walks past me adding, “Mind you, this applies to both parties.”

  He pauses a little to think. “Either she hates him, or she feels it’s too late to change him.”

  “Why would she want to change him?”

  “Have you ever heard of a woman who doesn’t want to change her husband?”

  He stands in front of the mirror to cut some hairs that aren’t in line with the rest of his forelock. “What about the teacher?”

  “He’s volunteered to replace the broken glass in Umm Mazin’s apartment.”

  “The residents of the building are now just like the value of the U.S. dollar—up and down all the time!”

  A short while later he sighs. “What shall I do? Women won’t go to their ‘coiffeur’ in times like these.”

  “Do you want to help me out in the apiary until my aunt’s husband comes back? Maybe by then, things will have returned to normal.”

  His face curls up in horror at the suggestion, “Ew! Certainly not! Thank you, anyway. Bees? Me? That’s impossible.”

  A voice lands on us from the front entrance: “What’s impossible?”

  Saad runs to welcome him. As they hug, I compare Adel to all the students in my class. He turns toward me: “Thank God you’re unharmed.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Dalal is suggesting that I might spend some time with her amidst the bees. Imagine!”

  “Why not? You could do with a sting or two.”

  We sit down in a triangular layout, with Saad at the tip, sitting on the sofa. Adel and I sit on the revolving chairs. We draw them forward to the edge of the table that stands in our midst. Adel says, “The missile has been examined. It was faulty, that’s why it failed to explode when it struck the riverbank.”

  “Wow! Can you imagine a missile being faulty; like children’s fireworks that sometimes don’t go off.”

  “You should be saying, ‘Thank God for that.’”

  “I’m beginning to get depressed with this destruction all around us.”

  “Sometimes, Saad, we have to experience destruction in order to concentrate on building ourselves up.”

  Saad lifts up his hand annoyed. “Where do you come up with these silly philosophical concepts from?”

  Adel hesitates slightly before answering him. “From that little caterpillar crawling up the back of the sofa behind you. Don’t move.”

  Saad freezes in his spot. His neck contracts as he starts screaming, “No, no, I beg you, save me!”

  We both burst out laughing. Saad is still suffering seriously. “What are you waiting for?”

  Adel leaves him in torture. “And what would my reward be?”

  He squeals at him, “Adel, quickly, remove the beast from my back.”

  “Not before you tell me what I deserve in return.”

  “A bottle of arak.”

  “And what about Dalal?”

  He starts to shake as he imagines the green creature coming closer to him. “Oh my God, Dalal, do something.”

  I get up from my chair, but Adel’s hand stops me, “What’s the hurry? What did you say, Saad? What’s Dalal’s reward going to be?”

  “A box of Kit Kats.”

  “Where from?”

  “I bought them yesterday.”

  “How can you afford to buy sweets in times like these?”

  “I didn’t buy them, brother. I had a craving for them, so I arranged a small exchange.”

  “What did you trade them for?”

  “Are you interrogating me?”

  “And I’ll enjoy doing that.”

  “I can’t move.”

  “The creature is very close to your neck.”

  Saad’s eyes are about to burst out of their sockets. “Stop it!”

  “Now tell me, what did you trade them for, Saad?”

  “Electric hair rollers.”

  His forelock turns solid in front of his head. “Dalal, save me!”

  We only rescue him from the silkworm after he has reassured us that the chocolates are imported, and haven’t been looted from Kuwait, what is known as ‘the spoils of war.’ Like many people, we had sworn never to lay hands on items that were brought back from the crisis.

  Saad shouts, “Anyway, many years have passed since that war, what kind of chocolate would stay fresh all that time?”

  Adel then places the bottle of arak on the table. Inside the three glasses, the arak turns from a clear colorless liquid into a thick milky one. We start dipping the delicious Kit Kat fingers in it. We extinguish the bitterness of the alcohol with the sweet, then extinguish the sweet with the alcohol, and so on. We have no idea what we are celebrating.

  We divide the night among ourselves until the objects around me begin to dance. Saad gets up and changes the tape to Arabic songs. Suddenly he takes his shirt off. He takes a wide eyeliner pen and starts to draw several slanting lines across his abdomen. He says they are the chords of a guitar. He takes another sip of arak, and then starts tickling his tummy in a comical, theatrical way. He is pretending to play his guitar. He then starts singing, “You with the burning eyes…tell me when will we meet.”

  A short while later, he gets hold of a black scarf and starts dancing around me. He covers my face with the scarf, except for my eyes. His hips don’t stop wiggling to the rhythm. He says to Adel, “Are you still afraid of beautiful women?”

  I feel safe behind the scarf. Adel answers him as he toys with his glass, “A beautiful woman smells of danger. I don’t like it when someone tosses me a piece of creamy cake. I could slip, or it might be a trap.”

  The waves of his voice reach me across the table; but Adel isn’t looking in our direction. Saad continues, “You claim that you’ve been with a thousand women, but still you hesitate!”

  “And I helped more than thirty of my friends get married.”

  “Your experiences when you’re sober aren’t those you experience when you’re drunk.”

  “Sometimes generosity justifies flitting between women.”

  I have started to enjoy this session, listening to men talking. I am bored with women’s gatherings and their problems. Adel says, “Calm down, Saad. You’re annoying Dalal with your excessive dancing.”

  Saad laughs out loud, “Movement is a blessing, isn’t that what they say?”

  Adel smiles as he watches him, while Saad carries on, “We must continue to move. Movement is important. There’s salvation in movement; ceasing to move implies dying.”

  He then ad
ds, “People must continue to move, the economy must move, and our weapons must continue to move.”

  Adel asks him, “What are you blathering on about, Saad?”

  “Haven’t you seen what’s been on television today? The teams of inspectors looking for weapons of mass destruction? They’ve changed their name. They’re now called UNMOVIC. Did you see the way they combed the area with their equipment?”

  Adel interrupts him, “Calm down, Saad.”

  Saad pays no attention to him whatsoever, and carries on, “We’re all starving to death. Where would we get the money from to make these weapons that would cost a fortune?”

  Adel gets up from his seat. “I told you to calm down, Saad.”

  “Ha, ha. Doesn’t the West know that the people responsible for hiding those alleged weapons watch a lot of Road Runner cartoons?”

  Adel hands him an ashtray. “Let’s change the subject.”

  He asks me, “Is he bothering you?”

  “Not at all.”

  Saad sticks his tongue out at him. “You see.”

  Saad draws on his cigarette. The room has filled with smoke. “From my point of view, an intelligent woman is more frightening than a beautiful woman.”

  I join their conversation. “An intelligent woman?”

  Saad smiles cruelly saying, “The one that overcomes her embarrassment?”

  He grabs the eyeliner pen and, heading to Adel, he says, “Put your head back.”

  Adel does as he is told and Saad starts drawing a tattoo on his face. When he is done, an eye settles between his brows. Adel doesn’t move and starts to smile. I ask him, “Don’t you want to know what he drew for you?”

  “Another eye, right?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “It’s his favorite game.”

  I turn around to Saad, who is drinking his arak like gulps of water. “So explain to me then.”

  “There’s nothing to explain. All I did was darken with the kohl something that was already there.”

  Adel says to him, “The alcohol is going up to your head.”

  Saad cheers him with his glass: “Here’s to your third eye.”

  Saad burps as loud as he can then starts to talk seriously, “This man here showed me how to see things through this ‘eye’ and not with our regular eyes. It’s the center of the unconscious in human beings. From it we feel, follow our instincts, and our spirits meet.”

  Adel says as if he was correcting him, “It’s not physical eyesight, it’s a type of vision.”

  I tell them, “Even you, Adel?”

  They stare at me and I say, “What’s wrong with the people in this building! Everybody thinks they have super powers in understanding life in their own way. First Umm Mazin claims that she sees in the coffee cup what others can’t, therefore she can read the future. Then Uncle Sami believes that he sees the truth through his camera only, but after he lost his sight, he started seeing what he never experienced in his life before. And now, you tell me that you have an invisible third eye, one that feels rather than sees! Has everybody gone mad?”

  Saad drags me by the hand, so that he can sit in my place on the revolving chair. He pushes the ground with his feet to spin around. He starts going round and round. Suddenly, his broadcast stops.

  Adel gets up to make sure he is all right. He lifts him up from the chair and drags him over to the sofa where he sets him down saying, “You’re going to sleep deeply.”

  I watch him leading Saad to the sofa. I say, “He’s passed out.”

  “He’ll rest. His thoughts have exhausted him.”

  My body starts to sway. “Adel, I feel like a woolen blouse that’s just been taken out of a hot washing machine.”

  He bursts out laughing and leans over toward me. The next moment, I am lifted into the air. “You’re still too young to be drinking.”

  “What are you saying! I’m about to graduate from university.”

  “Yes, and I’ll get you a present.”

  “Another box of Kit Kats!”

  He holds me against his chest and leads me toward the bedroom.

  It is a darkened space. The only light comes from a small gap in the curtain. The light from the backstreet lights up the stars that hang on the black wall. A stranger’s two arms lie me down on the bed. His fingers reach out to remove the scarf from my face. I stop him. “There isn’t anything attractive underneath here.”

  The smell of his breath is like fermented dates. “It attracted me before today.”

  “Don’t be considerate of my feelings.”

  “Take my eyes and look through them.”

  “Which one?”

  He laughs, and starts wiping the third one. “Without the extras.”

  “I wish I could stay like this, forever the image of a Bedouin woman.”

  “Don’t be shy with me.”

  I point to my mouth. “But it’s distorted.”

  “Don’t say that. Imagine your mouth being caressed by the wind; you’ll feel the difference.”

  He starts to pull the scarf away gently. “I’ll light a candle. Will you let me do that?”

  “Please don’t embarrass me.”

  “Trust me.”

  I feel more numb as he lights it. He then says to me, “Look.”

  I gaze into the small mirror that he holds up in front of my face while I remain lying on my back. “Imagine that your lips are about to take flight.”

  His voice flows into my ears like misty olive oil: “And now, give me your feet.”

  He starts kneading them with an expert touch. His fingers play with the sole of my foot. I lose track of time when his voice reaches me: “Concentrate on the silver stars. You’re just like them; you have to be rubbed so that you may shine.”

  The room melts away around me; I leave the rest to the candle.

  When I wake up, Saad is standing by my side gazing down at me. “Good morning, flower bud.”

  The darkness and Adel have evaporated. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  “We left you on the sofa.”

  “And then?”

  “Adel laid me out on your bed.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “Where’s the scarf?”

  “Beside you. It seems to be the only thing that you’ve taken off.”

  “Shut up. I can’t remember what happened.”

  “What a pity.”

  He starts gathering the congealed candle wax from the table, “The important thing is, Adel dropped by an hour ago to make sure everything was all right.”

  “Did he ask about me?”

  “Yes, and he also asked me for color fixers. I gave him a can of hairspray to try out. It might fix the dye onto the wooden limbs.”

  I can taste hairspray drizzle in my mouth. “Has my aunt been in touch?”

  “No.”

  I fix my hair. Saad says, “Stay and have breakfast with me.”

  “Thank you Saaoudy, I’ll go.”

  I manage to balance my head on my shoulders, with difficulty. I then make my way up to the third floor.

  My aunt’s husband hasn’t returned; but I find traces of him in the buttons cupboard. My aunt has added two new boxes there. One is a large one that contains the mummified bees. It is labeled “Husband 1.” The second is a smaller container. It has silvery scales inside it. The label says “Husband 2.” I am shocked when I open it. It is a collection of psoriasis scales.

  I throw myself down into her chair in the living room. She is still on the second floor. I open my handbag and am assailed by the smells of last night. I take out my timetable and try to concentrate in spite of my overpowering headache. I have to study a text by Proust. The lecturer is going to discuss the association between memories and the taste of madeleine cakes. I put my notes away and head toward Ilham’s flat. I hope I can find a painkiller in the medicine cabinet in her bathroom; or maybe Umm Mazin will have something.

  I say to the maid, �
�How are things, Bidour?”

  Umm Mazin called out from inside, “You mean ‘Saucepan Girl.’”

  Badriya lowers her eyes, shuts the door and follows me in.

  We enter the room. The floor is covered with dozens of different types of herbs scattered all over a nylon sheet. My aunt sits in a chair, knitting. Umm Mazin is lying down on a mattress on the ground. Behind her are a large number of plump cushions.

  “Good morning, you appear to be in better health, Umm Mazin.”

  “You’re wrong. It’s merely my anger that’s keeping me alert.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “You mean on top of everything else that has happened!”

  I exchange glances with my aunt, but she is unable to help. Umm Mazin calls out to Badriya to sit down beside her. “We’ll start again. The herbs on this side are to deal with water magic and those on that side are for wind magic. Do you understand?”

  The servant answers her in a low and hesitant voice, “I understand, Hijjia.”

  “Now give me the pumpkin seeds.”

  “There you are.”

  “No, this is birdseed. Didn’t I show you the difference between them yesterday?”

  I sit down to watch. “And what do we do with these leaves, Badriya?”

  “We use them to treat indigestion.”

  “No, we give them to patients who have lost their appetite. What about this leek?”

  “That’s for anemia.”

  “No, it’s for infirmity. Take this; you know this one.”

  “These are dried grilled apples. We use them in the mixture for the feeble-minded.”

  “Eat a lot of it then, before I become even more ill because of you.”

  My aunt is trying to hide her chuckles. The two women are gathering together all the herbs after the incident. They want to place them in nylon sacks so that Umm Mazin will be able to resume her work sometime in the near future. Umm Mazin holds up a white grainy substance in front of her maid. “Do you remember how we use these clusters of cats’ eyes?”