Страница 6 из 87
On that long-ago day, the father and his sons came back from battle carrying al-Qasim wrapped in a gallabiya. The mother screamed. Magd al-Din, eleven at the time, sat alone in a corner and cried. Al-Qasim was the kindest of his brothers. He was also the bravest, and his courage was well known in their village and in the neighboring villages.
The Talibs buried their son, the one betrayed by his wife, in the late afternoon, and that night the Khalils buried their son who had been killed. The village slept in silence and terror. The following day no one left home. On the third day people went out after a rumor had spread that the Khalils had accepted God’s judgment, that their dandy son had caused the eldest Talib son to die of grief, and for this the Talibs had killed the eldest son of the Khalils. Everyone was even and no one owed anyone anything. By week’s end, though, one of the Talib sons was found killed outside the village. All attempts by the mayor, the county, and the governorate to reconcile the two families failed. No one accused anyone of murder. Everyone knew how it would happen: an eye for an eye, until the two families were extinct. It was no longer surprising for people to know which family harbored the next victim; the game was precise, no matter how much time passed between one victim and the next. Whenever another was killed, the people of the village shu
The train was leaving another station as the conductor scrutinized the tickets of the well-dressed man and his children. Magd al-Din opened the Quran at random, and his gaze fell on the seventh sura, “The Heights.”
Out of the blue, Zahra asked him, “Why did they do that to us, Sheikh Magd?”
There were many verses preceding the point at which he had opened the book, and he did not think to read the chapter from the begi
“Almighty God has spoken the truth,” he murmured to himself and closed his eyes and the Quran.
He began to recite from memory in no particular order, “And as the unbelievers plotted against you to keep you in bonds or kill you or get you out. They plot and plan but the best of pla
His voice was rising gradually, until it almost filled the whole car. “And call your Lord to mind if you forget,” he continued. “I hope my Lord will guide me closer to the right road…And if you punish, then punish with the like of that which was done to you. But if you endure patiently, that is indeed best for those who are patient. So give glory to God night and day and give praise to Him in heaven and earth all day long. “
The short man turned to his friend and whispered, “That man is reading, but the Quran in his hand is closed. He is reciting loudly and seems not to be paying attention to what he is reciting. He must be truly troubled.”
“You will see a lot more than that if the war goes on for a long time.”
The short man, surprised at his friend’s comment, said nothing and thought instead of the reception Alexandria was going to give them at night.
King Farouk performed the Friday prayers at the Mosque of Mustafa Odeh Pasha in Fattuh Street in Gumruk — as the morning papers a
4
This little murderous world is against the i
it takes the bread out of their mouths and
gives their houses to the fire.