Albert Cossery - Proud Beggars

The scent of a violet perfume penetrated his nostrils and informed him of a woman’s presence at his side. He interrupted the movement of his arm, his nerves suddenly relaxed, his being infused with delicious joy. The mere smell of this perfume sufficed to dispel his anger. Without turning his head, he glanced obliquely at the woman standing near him, grave and immobile, as if fascinated by the extent of the riches contained in the window. She was a native girl dressed with uncommon care and elegance. The folds of her melaya and the impeccable cut molded her svelte form, emphasizing the firm roundness of her rump. Although the lower part of her face was hidden beneath a black silk veil, the luster of her almond eyes lined with kohl augured a distinguished beauty. Her entire being emitted an air of sensual mystery that made El Kordi tremble in the very depths of his flesh. She seemed extremely interested in a diamond necklace that almost filled the whole window by itself.

This superb creature so charmed El Kordi that he did not react for a moment. Then the fear of seeing her go away moved him to whisper, “O beauty, I am sure that this necklace would look marvelous on you.”

The young woman looked him up and down as if he were an unclean serpent.

“Yes,” she said. “But where is the man rich enough to give it to me?”

El Kordi could not think of any answer to this mischievous invitation. The young woman was a whore, but a high-class whore. He certainly wouldn’t offer her a diamond necklace, or even an ear of grilled corn. Who did she think she was? Her exaggerated idea of her market value amused rather than frightened El Kordi. For his part, he feared nothing: he had nothing to lose in the adventure. This foolish woman did not realize whom she was dealing with. He would have her for nothing! Prostitutes were the kind of women El Kordi seduced with the greatest of ease; he knew their mentality and how to talk to them.

He was now persuaded that fate had led him here just to meet this aristocratic whore. He quickly tried to find a pleasant way to resume the conversation and especially to make her laugh.

But the young woman did not give him time; she suddenly turned away from the window and left with the haste of an offended person. No doubt she had interpreted El Kordi’s silence as a rebuff. Did she really think he was going to buy her a diamond necklace? What a madwoman! Instinctively, El Kordi followed her. Then he noticed she was not alone; a little girl with braided hair topped with a rose ribbon and wearing wooden shoes accompanied her. At first El Kordi was vexed, then he concluded that it was a fortunate circumstance. The little girl offered a good way to easily strike up an acquaintance. He rapidly caught up with them and began to walk in step, waiting for the proper moment to intervene.

He could now appreciate at his leisure the elegant figure of the young woman, who strolled with a swing in her hips, tapping the sidewalk with her high-heeled shoes. She moved like a sleepwalker, eyes straight ahead, indifferent to the desires she excited along the way. Aroused as never before during the course of his amorous adventures, El Kordi experienced some very intense minutes. The vast conflicts that agitated his generous soul had disappeared like a charm. The misery of the disinherited masses, the revolution on the march, the overthrow of evil powers — all that could wait. His only concern was to capture this tempting prey whose lascivious hip-swinging burned his flesh. He was already trembling at the idea of possessing her.

Without bothering about jealous passersby who observed his growing passion with a critical eye, El Kordi prepared for action. He had drawn a handful of roasted seeds from his pocket, and, approaching the young girl, he innocently held out his hand. The little girl looked in El Kordi’s hand but didn’t dare touch the seeds.

“Aunt!”

“What is it?” the young woman asked wearily.

She pretended not to notice El Kordi’s presence.

“Can I take some?”

“What?”

“Seeds.”

“Take some, if you like.”

The little girl turned toward El Kordi.

“Gimme,” she said.

El Kordi poured some seeds into the girl’s hand. She immediately began expertly to munch on them. El Kordi stroked her hair and struck a paternal pose. They now formed a perfect familial group — a young married couple walking with their child. Actually, this easy success had so intoxicated El Kordi that he was not far from marrying the young woman on the spot if she demanded it. Nothing else mattered; he was ready to make any compromise to sleep with her. He had never been so close to such a beautiful, highly bred whore. It was the chance of a lifetime. It seemed to him that if he did not have her, he would not survive his defeat.

Despite the young woman’s disdain, El Kordi was full of hope. He continued to court the young girl.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Nagafa.”

“What a pretty name!” gushed El Kordi. “Do you like seeds?”

“Yes, I often eat them.”

“Well, next time I’ll bring you a big bag.”

Just then the young woman stopped, faced El Kordi, and said calmly, “I think it’s time to talk seriously.”

Caught unawares by this sudden attack, El Kordi stammered, “Why, certainly. That’s exactly what I was waiting for.”

She was now going to broach the principal question: the price of her charms. El Kordi understood that he would have to be cagey; he did not even have enough to buy a radish.

“What are your intentions?” continued the young woman.

“The best in the world,” El Kordi assured her. “I’m at your service. Your wish is my command.”

“Where do you plan to take me?”

“To my place, of course! I have a very comfortable apartment. I am sure it will please you. I hope you like modern furniture.”

Wanting to avoid serious matters, he was becoming worldly.

“In what neighborhood is your apartment?” She didn’t seem to believe him.

“In Menchief. It’s very near here.”

“You call that near! That’s very far. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to come.”

“On my honor, I assure you it’s not far. And besides, don’t worry. You’ll spend the night there. I have a big apartment; the little one can sleep in the living room.”

“Spend the night!” She looked at him as if to size him up. “Are you rich enough to pay for a whole night?”

“By Allah! What do you mean? I’ve never been so offended. Do I look like a vagabond? I am a high government official. What do you take me for?”

The young woman seemed skeptical; she reflected.

“I would like to believe you. Let’s take a cab then.”

El Kordi mentally calculated the money he had in his pocket; it would not be enough for a cab. He pretended to hail one, without conviction, in a timid, cracked voice, but no coachman answered his call. They all took him for a joker.

“We’ll find one on our way,” he said. “Let’s walk. Don’t you think the weather is lovely?”

“Walk yourself, servant of a failed government!” And off she went, haughtier than ever, with the little girl clinging to her silk melaya .

Incredulously, El Kordi watched her leave; he still couldn’t believe in the collapse of his beautiful dream. He heard laughter bursting out all around him. It was some passersby who had followed the whole scene and were now enjoying seeing him come away empty-handed. El Kordi turned his back on these envious clowns; he despised their sarcasm. Once again he had become very dignified.

Although Set Amina’s brothel had reopened a week before, many of her regular customers had not dared to put in an appearance. The few clients seated in the waiting room behaved like people at a funeral. They had the impression that a trap had been set for them. And they were not altogether wrong.