Their days in the new lodgings went by without incident. The dubious looks cast at the two young friends and their endless visitors by the local men as they came and went were all that disturbed their tranquillity. They were very careful not to upset the neighbours with any behaviour that might count against them. Even when they spent the evening chatting with their friends, one of their most important rituals was to shut the door of the room where they were meeting and to shut the inner door between the front door and the rest of the house. They were careful not to laugh louder than necessary, or to turn up the volume on the radio or cassette player more than they had to. They wanted to win the trust of this hostile environment by any means and to avoid trouble at all costs. They even pretended to ignore the furtive looks of certain women of the quarter from behind half-closed doors and windows – enticing looks that implied all sorts of seductive adventure. This was despite the blazing passions lit within them both instantly, whenever here or there their glances met the twinkle of a half-hidden eye.
With time, by praying frequently with the congregation in the mosque and walking there and back with their eyes fixed on the ground, they were able to win the trust and respect of everyone. And they returned the greetings of some of the residents with better, more polite ones. In fact, they always tried to get their greetings in first. Sometimes they discussed those furtive looks. They would get so carried away by the passion of their conversation and the fiery lust ignited within them both that they felt driven to start something with one of the women concerned. The best time was the late morning, when the houses were full of women looking for some adventure to relieve them from their agonising routine of total boredom. But the two friends would soon switch to some other plan in order to preserve their excellent reputation.
On one occasion their resolve was severely tested. They were coming back from university earlier than usual and the alley was completely deserted. As they unlocked the door of their house, the door of the house opposite suddenly opened to reveal two faces – girls in the prime of life wearing nothing on their heads, their long, jet-black hair gleaming with oil and hanging loose over their shoulders, their eyes huge and dark as moonless desert nights, and their skin the colour of ripening dates. The girls smiled seductively at them. The two young men stood where they were, paralysed with surprise and overcome by indecision. Then they ran inside, as if pursued by wild animals. They stood for a short time recovering their breath, then made for the deserted sitting room and peered out the window overlooking the alley. The two girls were still crouching behind the door. Their eyes met – briefly – then they slammed the window shut. This incident recurred several times, and on each occasion their inclination was to start on an adventure and to hell with the consequences, but they backed off at the last moment to preserve their hard-won reputation. If they were to have an adventure, there were plenty of streets and alleys in Riyadh, so they resolved to let it be far away from their own quarter.
Their reputation was like pure gold, so much so that the women of the quarter stopped spying on them. They became freer after gaining the trust of their neighbours, so that eventually Hisham and Abd al-Rahman felt able to bring Raqiyya to the house; then another time she came with one of her friends; then the visits became more frequent without anyone suspecting anything. The first time Raqiyya came with Abd al-Rahman, it was in the afternoon. Their neighbour opposite knocked on the door and inquired politely about the guests inside. Hisham answered that they were his sister and brother-in-law who had come to visit and clean the house. The neighbour believed him and went back to his house, repeating, ‘God bless you … God bless you,’ and never asked again about anyone entering or leaving the house. What a fine veil it was, this blameless reputation of theirs: it protected them from all suspicion, and even concealed facts that were clear as the sun in broad daylight, as the expression goes. They no doubt meant the sun of the East, not the sun of the West.
Nonetheless, an uneasy sense of worthlessness continued to haunt Hisham. Despite the pleasure of his adventures with Raqiyya and her like, despite the new friendships that he had made and despite the intensity of his sense of adventure, the blade of his conscience continued to pierce him; it would not leave him to rest. After any exciting sexual adventure, or the day after any drunken evening, the ghost of his mother would invade his mind and his conscience would start on its sadistic diversions. He would pledge not to drink again or make love to women, indeed he would resolve to remain in complete seclusion and not to mix with anyone. However, he soon forgot all that when he’d drunk a little arak or wine, or tasted one of those smooth bodies. His marks in college began to plummet, to the surprise of his professors. This made him feel more and more anguish. He would rush back to his books with great enthusiasm, but soon his thoughts became preoccupied again by the softness of some particular body, or the fun he’d had the last time he’d got drunk with his friends. Then the letters would dance in front of his eyes, and despite his best efforts he would no longer be reading.
He no longer felt at ease with himself, except for the odd afternoon when he went out with Muhaysin to a date plantation near their quarter. There they would sit on the damp ground and watch the early spring breeze play with the palm trees around them, as the disk of the sun grew larger and turned crimson on its way to its journey’s end in the sea by Jabal Qaf. They would say anything that came into their minds. They had conversations about God and existence, fate, destiny and chance; about heaven and hell, Adam and the Devil; Existentialism and Marxism; Islam and Christianity, Muhammad and Christ; about Riyadh, Qusaim and Dammam. They would talk about everything except their own personal lives. They would carry on talking and smoking until darkness let down its cloak and the grasshoppers started to sing; until the croaking of the frogs rose to a fevered prayer of desire, when, with the pale light of the stars, loneliness would pierce them and they would leave, feeling that they were nothing in this universe, that it had nothing to do with them. Then they would feel both contentment and hidden anxiety. Hisham’s uncertainties would die; the spectre of his mother would disappear from his mind and he would sleep soundly that night, resolving to abandon his sinful life and devote himself to study and study alone … but the curse of mankind is forgetfulness.