Albert Cossery - A Splendid Conspiracy

Chawki was skillfully navigating toward the sources of light while frantically waving his cane so as to scare off invisible demons. His goal now was not to parade himself in front of a backward people, but to reach, as quickly as possible, Imtaz’s house, where special festivities were to take place in his honor. For the moment, his concern was to stay out of the shadows and not be mistaken for a common capitalist by brazen assailants. It was his massive smugness and his belief that the esteem in which the entire city held him made him untouchable that had dictated this particular course of action. Even the lowliest scoundrels would hesitate to disrespect such a highly placed person. But like all courses of action, this one was not devoid of a certain stupidity; it wasn’t entirely impossible that the kidnappers or other evil-minded dregs of humanity were ignorant peasants straight out of their countryside and thus totally unaware of Chawki’s position as an esthete and illustrious notable. If this were the case, it would obviously be sheer lunacy to show himself in the light. He was exasperated by this quandary that called upon his speculative faculties, and that tremendous anxiety was preventing him from resolving. The lewd, stirring image of the young schoolgirl from a good family waiting for him at Imtaz’s house set his flesh ablaze almost to the point of orgasm and made even more dreadful the possibility of some mortal danger that would deprive him of a prey he had so fervently coveted just when he was about to do with it as he pleased. Spurred on by his depraved predilections, he hoped to find in this barely nubile child the innocent offspring of a family of his acquaintance, as if by sleeping with the daughter he would at the same time absorb the respectability of her parents, and he anticipated a positive influence on his waning virility from this act of sacrilege. As it happened, his sensuous nature had recently begun to show some signs of flagging that necessitated the use of various aphrodisiacs. There was a good chance that the young girl was still a virgin, and Chawki felt his stomach clench on realizing he had forgotten to supply himself with the life-saving drug. And so his most terrible fear was coming true: possessing the girl was becoming an intrepid task in all likelihood doomed to fail. But it was too late now to remedy his oversight. To go back the way he’d come, after suffering so many torments, demanded an amount of courage and daring he could no longer even imagine. Despite the fact that he was constantly quickening his pace, it seemed to him that he was barely moving forward, and that the former actor’s house existed only in his mind, a mind overexcited by the vision of the young schoolgirl waiting for him naked on a bed in an obscene pose. This feeling was analogous to what he experienced in his nightmares when, hunted down by his former mistress, the irascible Salma — transformed for the occasion into a devouring female whose mouth dripped blood — he fled, but with the alarming sensation that however much he tried to accelerate the movements of his legs, rather than carrying him farther from the hideous creature, they were only decreasing the distance between them. Then his thoughts were flooded with malicious joy at the idea that from now on he was safe from the young woman and her abominable fulminations. What a blessing that this veterinary student had wound up there; that imbecile had done him a great favor by attacking him. What cheered Chawki most in this matter was that he would no longer have to pay an allowance or offer gifts to a woman who had ceased to play any part in his sexual fantasies. He was thinking about this with glee in the depths of his miserliness when suddenly his attention was drawn to a faint dancing light, very much like a ray of sunlight reflected in a mirror, and which he assumed was the reflection of a knife blade brandished above his neck by some individual standing behind him. For a brief instant he remained motionless, under a spell of terrible indecisiveness. Then, twirling his cane, he turned around to fight off the fatal stroke that was about to obliterate him. At that moment the phenomenon reoccurred with incredible speed — a tiny glimmer flittering in every direction — and he managed to locate its origin. He had been too quick to lose his head; the glimmer was coming from the ring he wore on his right hand, the one that held the cane; its stone glittered as soon as it caught a hint of light. Before Chawki had gone out, recalling Imtaz’s advice, he’d managed to take off all his rings except one that remained embedded in his flesh despite his struggles to remove it. It was a very valuable ring, with a large diamond that blazed like fire and that in all probability signaled his approach for miles around. He tried to hide his hand beneath the cloth of his cape, but this made it impossible for him to defend himself efficiently; his left hand was too clumsy to handle the cane in a fight for his life. This new worry threw him into indescribable confusion and only half-consciously did his eye perceive a human shape threading its way stealthily through the shadows. An icy shiver ran through Chawki as his gaze swept over the square intently seeking a section of wall or a tree trunk as shelter in his hasty retreat; all he found was the statue’s plinth. He took a deep breath, then ran toward this monument to deceit; since it belonged to the government, in his mind it was obliged to protect him from envious men and outcasts. His body pressing against this feeble rampart like a fly on a sticky windowpane, his cane raised above his head in a final burst of heroism, he held his breath and listened carefully for the intruder’s footsteps. After a moment, hearing nothing, he edged out from behind the pedestal and what he saw crushed his last hope of resistance. A man was heading calmly toward the statue with the satisfied air of an assassin confident in his strength and convinced that his victim had no chance of escape. Chawki would have liked to cry for help, to wake the entire city with a horrific roar, but either because the difficulties of this night had made him lose his voice or because his social standing forbade him from resorting to such unseemly extremes, no sound emerged from his throat. His fright, however, vanished all at once as soon as he could make out his pursuer’s tiny figure. The anemic appearance and rough clothing of this odd stroller were evidence of undeniable poverty. Chawki felt reborn. The man could not be dangerous in the least; Chawki could easily get the better of him with a few well-dealt blows of his cane. With the courage of the coward faced with someone weaker than himself, he rushed out all aquiver from behind the pedestal, cane raised, ready to knock senseless this poor wretch who looked anything but ferocious.

Rezk had guessed what Chawki was up to and concluded that he had no more need to be discreet because in all likelihood his enemy was fully aware of his presence. So he’d walked on without trying to hide and, truth be told, rather unsure of the proper course of action to take in such circumstances. But seeing Chawki come out of his impromptu hiding place threatening him with his cane, he recoiled ever so slightly, disoriented by a move he had not expected.

Emboldened by this retreat, Chawki took advantage of his initial success and the superiority of his arsenal. He opened his arms wide as if to block Rezk’s passage and cried in the incensed tones of a bank security guard shouting at a prowler:

“Who are you? And why are you following me?”

These questions increased Rezk’s confusion and it took him a moment to respond, which he did contritely:

“I was not following you, Excellency.”

The humility in this voice and the respect paid to his social status convinced Chawki of the young man’s peaceful nature. Seeing him trembling with cold in his too-meager clothing, Chawki imagined that Rezk was frightened by the commanding authority that radiated from his person. Face to face with this worm, he was terribly annoyed at himself for his earlier fright. He lowered his cane and leaned on it, then, puffing out his chest, he began to fiddle with the ends of his moustache while scrutinizing Rezk’s face with his usual arrogance. This face reminded him of some recent event.