don’t know, I said. I don’t feel like it. He shook me. You’ve got
to go in there, he said. This is a big deal. I said that I knew it was but that
I couldn’t. Come on, he said, and shoved me toward the door. I went in and
locked the door behind me. Hasan’s brother said from behind the door that the
rubber was on the desk. I lit a cigarette and offered her one. She was sitting
on the bed in her underclothes, wearing a cheap pink shirt with holes in it,
like a white rag that had been dipped in blood and washed over and over but
still kept the faded color of the blood. Her legs were bare. Her skirt was
carefully folded on the desk. She said, I don’t want to smoke, let’s get on with
it. Let’s have a cigarette first, I said. What’s your name? I want to get this
over with, she said, and put her hand out to unbutton my pants. I turned her
hand away gently and said, Just sleep with me tonight, then leave in the
morning. Yeah, right, she laughed, and then pulled me toward her, trying to kiss
me. I turned my mouth away from her face and stood up and took off my pants and
underwear and picked up the rubber and began putting it on, but it ripped. I
looked for another on the desk. There wasn’t one. The girl said, I’m clean. I
opened the door and called to Hasan, I need one, and he gave me one from his
pocket and I put it on and I threw myself on top of her. She tried to kiss me so
I moved my face away and finally got up and put my clothes on. The other two
took her out and I sat down and lit a cigarette. Ramsi came and I told him I
hadn’t been able to sleep with the girl and he made fun of me. He had managed
it. He met a girl in the street and went home with her and turned off the
lights. It took ten minutes, then he gave her twenty-five piastres and looked at
his face in the mirror. It was red. Nothing is worth anything, he said. Then he
left. Soon the policeman came and then I turned off the light and slept. In the
morning I went out and had breakfast in the street. I didn’t buy the papers. I
went back to my room and my sister said my uncle was returning from Alexandria
and that he was very sick and that I needed to go meet him. I went out and
caught a metro, taking it to the station. I got off and crossed the square,
passing through the entrance in the wall that surrounded the station. I found
him standing on the platform. He looked just fine and his wife was standing next
to him with an umbrella in her hand. His kids rushed to hail a taxi and they all
got in and told me to meet them at home, so I got on the metro and went to meet
them at their house and found him sitting on the sofa in his pajamas. His body
seemed small and suddenly shrunken. I looked at his shoulders, which were thin
beneath his t-shirt, and his little eyes, which were almost lost behind his
thick glasses. His pajama pants were stained with big yellow blotches above the
pouch between his legs. He said it had come on all of a sudden with shaking and
a fever. They called the doctor, who said there was absolutely nothing wrong. He
said his temperature had gone up in the night and that he thought he was going
to die and sent for the doctor right away. The doctor said, Eat boiled
vegetables and get a urine test. My uncle said he followed the doctor’s orders
for one day. The day after he said, I’m eating chicken. We got up to eat and he
fell on the meat, devouring it with gusto. Give me some liver, he said. I left
them and went out, catching a metro to my cousin’s house. I told myself I would
know the house by its blue windows, but when I got there I discovered they
weren’t blue as I’d imagined. They were just ordinary, uncolored glass. It was
the sky that had sometimes made them seem blue. All the panes were cracked. The
facade of the house was yellow and dirty. The gate to the garden was open,
propped against the wall. The garden itself was untended and its paving stones
were torn up here and there. I took the path leading to the front
to go in there, he said. This is a big deal. I said that I knew it was but that
I couldn’t. Come on, he said, and shoved me toward the door. I went in and
locked the door behind me. Hasan’s brother said from behind the door that the
rubber was on the desk. I lit a cigarette and offered her one. She was sitting
on the bed in her underclothes, wearing a cheap pink shirt with holes in it,
like a white rag that had been dipped in blood and washed over and over but
still kept the faded color of the blood. Her legs were bare. Her skirt was
carefully folded on the desk. She said, I don’t want to smoke, let’s get on with
it. Let’s have a cigarette first, I said. What’s your name? I want to get this
over with, she said, and put her hand out to unbutton my pants. I turned her
hand away gently and said, Just sleep with me tonight, then leave in the
morning. Yeah, right, she laughed, and then pulled me toward her, trying to kiss
me. I turned my mouth away from her face and stood up and took off my pants and
underwear and picked up the rubber and began putting it on, but it ripped. I
looked for another on the desk. There wasn’t one. The girl said, I’m clean. I
opened the door and called to Hasan, I need one, and he gave me one from his
pocket and I put it on and I threw myself on top of her. She tried to kiss me so
I moved my face away and finally got up and put my clothes on. The other two
took her out and I sat down and lit a cigarette. Ramsi came and I told him I
hadn’t been able to sleep with the girl and he made fun of me. He had managed
it. He met a girl in the street and went home with her and turned off the
lights. It took ten minutes, then he gave her twenty-five piastres and looked at
his face in the mirror. It was red. Nothing is worth anything, he said. Then he
left. Soon the policeman came and then I turned off the light and slept. In the
morning I went out and had breakfast in the street. I didn’t buy the papers. I
went back to my room and my sister said my uncle was returning from Alexandria
and that he was very sick and that I needed to go meet him. I went out and
caught a metro, taking it to the station. I got off and crossed the square,
passing through the entrance in the wall that surrounded the station. I found
him standing on the platform. He looked just fine and his wife was standing next
to him with an umbrella in her hand. His kids rushed to hail a taxi and they all
got in and told me to meet them at home, so I got on the metro and went to meet
them at their house and found him sitting on the sofa in his pajamas. His body
seemed small and suddenly shrunken. I looked at his shoulders, which were thin
beneath his t-shirt, and his little eyes, which were almost lost behind his
thick glasses. His pajama pants were stained with big yellow blotches above the
pouch between his legs. He said it had come on all of a sudden with shaking and
a fever. They called the doctor, who said there was absolutely nothing wrong. He
said his temperature had gone up in the night and that he thought he was going
to die and sent for the doctor right away. The doctor said, Eat boiled
vegetables and get a urine test. My uncle said he followed the doctor’s orders
for one day. The day after he said, I’m eating chicken. We got up to eat and he
fell on the meat, devouring it with gusto. Give me some liver, he said. I left
them and went out, catching a metro to my cousin’s house. I told myself I would
know the house by its blue windows, but when I got there I discovered they
weren’t blue as I’d imagined. They were just ordinary, uncolored glass. It was
the sky that had sometimes made them seem blue. All the panes were cracked. The
facade of the house was yellow and dirty. The gate to the garden was open,
propped against the wall. The garden itself was untended and its paving stones
were torn up here and there. I took the path leading to the front
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