Alaa Al Aswany - The Yacoubian Building

She ought to thank Azzam and be grateful to him, not hate him. At least he has married her properly and taken her expenses in charge. This direct, practical idea governs her relations with the Hagg. He has rights over her body as per the legal agreement. He has the right to come to her whenever and however he wishes, and it is her obligation always to be ready, waiting for him every day after having made herself up and put on perfume. It is his right to remain unaware of her coldness toward him and that she should never make him feel his impotence or his shortcomings in bed.

Consequently she now had recourse to a trick that she had learned by instinct to save him embarrassment. Gasping and scratching his back with her nails and pretending to reach climax, she hugged his ruined body and threw her head on his chest as though drugged by the orgasm. Soon afterward she opened her eyes and started kissing him on his beard and neck and massaging his chest with her fingers. Then she whispered in an insinuating voice, “By the way… where’s my treat for your success in the elections?”

“Of course, my dear. A nice big present.”

“God preserve you for me, my darling! Look, I’m going to ask you a question and you have to answer me frankly.”

The Hagg propped his back against the end of the bed and looked at her with interest, keeping his hand on her bare shoulder. She said, “Do you love me?”

“Lots, Souad, and Our Lord knows that for a fact.”

“So if I asked for anything in the world you’d do it for me?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, don’t forget to keep your word.”

He looked at her uncertainly, but she had decided not to confront him this evening, so she said, “I’m going to tell you about something important. Next week, God willing.”

“Go on. Tell me this evening.”

“No, my darling. Let me make sure first.”

The Hagg laughed and said, “It’s a riddle?”

She kissed him and whispered in a seductive voice, “Yes… a riddle.”

Homosexuals, it is said, often excel in professions that depend on contact with other people, such as public relations, acting, brokering, and the law. Their success in these fields is attributable to their lack of that sense of shame that costs others opportunities, while their sexual lives, filled as they are with diverse and unusual encounters, give them deeper insight into human nature and make them more capable of influencing others. Homosexuals also excel in professions associated with taste and beauty, such as interior decoration and clothing design; it is well known that the most famous clothes designers in the world are homosexuals, perhaps because their dual sexual nature enables them to design women’s clothes that are attractive to men and vice versa.

Those who know Hatim Rasheed may differ about him but are bound to acknowledge his refined taste and his authentic talent in choosing colors and clothes. Even in his bedroom with his lovers, Hatim deems himself too good for the camp taste that many homosexuals affect. He tries rather, with practiced touches, to bring out the feminine side of his beauty. He wears transparent gallabiyas embroidered with beautiful colors over his naked body, is clean-shaven, applies an appropriate and carefully calculated amount of eye pencil to his eyebrows, and uses a small amount of eye shadow. Then he brushes his smooth hair back or leaves stray locks over his forehead. By these means he always attempts, in making himself attractive, to realize the model of the beautiful youth of ancient times.

Hatim applied the same sensitive taste when he bought new clothes for his friend Abduh — tight pants that showed off the strength of his muscles, shirts and undershirts in light colors to illuminate his dark face, and collars that were always open to reveal the muscles of his neck and the thick hair on his chest. Hatim was generous with Abduh. He gave him lots of money, which Abduh sent to his family, and got him a recommendation to the camp commander so that his treatment improved and they granted him holidays one after another, all of which he spent with Hatim, as though they were newlyweds on their honeymoon. They would wake up in the middle of the morning and enjoy having nothing to do and being lazy, eating in the best restaurants, watching movies at the cinema, and shopping. Late at night they would go to bed together and, after satisfying their bodies, would lie in each other’s arms in the dim light of the lamp, sometimes talking until the morning — moments of tenderness that Hatim would never forget. His thirst for love quenched, he would cling like a frightened child to Abduh’s strong body, nuzzling his coarse brown skin like a cat and telling him about everything: his childhood, his father and his French mother, and his first beloved, Idris. The amazing thing was that Abduh, despite his youth and his ignorance, was capable of sympathizing with Hatim’s feelings and became more accepting of their relationship. The first aversion disappeared, to be replaced by a deliciously sinful craving, plus the money and the respect and the new clothes and fine food, and the high-class places that Abduh had not dreamed he would one day enter; and, at night, in the street, when he was coming back in Hatim’s company, Abduh loved to pass by the privates of the Central Security forces with his elegant appearance and greet them from a distance, as though proving to himself that he had become for a time something different from those poor wretches standing long hours, for no good reason or purpose, in the sun and the cold.

The two friends lived days of pure bliss. Then came Abduh’s birthday, an occasion which Abduh assured Hatim was of no importance to him since, in Upper Egypt, they celebrated only weddings and circumcisions but which Hatim insisted on celebrating all the same. Taking him out in the car and smiling, he said, “I’ve got a surprise for you tonight.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“Be patient. You’ll know soon,” murmured Hatim, his face wearing an expression of childlike playfulness as he drove the car in an unaccustomed direction. He proceeded along Salah Salim and entered Medinet Nasr, then turned off and took a small side street. The shops were closed and the street almost completely dark but a metal kiosk, newly painted and gleaming in the dark, appeared. The two got out of the car and stood in front of the kiosk. Then Abduh heard a jingling and saw Hatim take out a small chain of keys. He held these out to Abdah and said lovingly, “Here. Joyeux anniversaire , happy birthday. This is my present for you. I’m praying you’ll like it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Hatim let out a raucous laugh and said, “You Sa’idis! You’re thick as planks. This kiosk belongs to you. I used a lot of influence and got it from the governorate for you. As soon as you finish your army service, I’ll buy you some stock and you can just stand here and sell it.”

Then he drew closer and whispered, “This way, my darling, you can work, make money, and support your children, and at the same time I make sure that you’ll stay with me forever.”

Abduh let out a loud shout and started laughing and hugging Hatim and mumbling thanks. It was a beautiful night. They dined together in a fish restaurant in El Mohandiseen. Abduh on his own ate more than a kilo of shrimp with rice, and while eating they drank a whole bottle of Swiss wine. The bill came to more than seven hundred pounds, which Hatim paid with his credit card. When they were together that evening in bed, Hatim almost wept with the delicious pain. He felt as though he was hovering in the clouds and wished time would stop, right there. After the lovemaking they remained as usual clinging to each other in bed, the dim light from the tall candle dancing and throwing its shadows on the wall opposite, which was covered in decorative wallpaper.