Abu Said al-Deeb was smoking his narghile and contemplating the slowly setting sun as he sat on the balcony of his third-floor apartment that looked over the gardens of the other buildings. He was eating fruit that his wife had peeled, cut, and offered to him. There was a sudden knock on the door, and someone came in to let him know his youngest son had been arrested while taking part in a demonstration that called for a change in the government.
Abu Said became angry and shouted at his wife, “Did you hear that, Lady Amina? Your son is in prison. And why? Because he’s against the government. Do you see the fruits of the way you brought him up?”
“Your children are just like you,” answered Amina.
“None of them ever listens to advice, and they do exactly as they please.”
Abu Said said with a sad and disapproving voice, “This happens to me! My son arrested in a demonstration against the government! What have we to do with the government? We don’t know it, and it doesn’t know us. It’s not our neighbor, and we’re not its neighbor.”
Abu Said remembered with sadness his grandfather, who got into a fight when he was quite an old man, stabbed five of the most famous bullies with his dagger, and came out unscathed. He remembered his father, who had spent his life one month at home and one year in prison and never stopped smuggling and selling contraband guns. He also remembered Garbage Dump Neighborhood, where he was born and grew up. He remembered its people, who were angry because of the name and had changed it to Highest Honor Neighborhood. But the new name did not stop other neighborhoods from mocking its inhabitants. He felt compelled to leave it and, to silence his mockers, had lived in one of the modern houses scattered about on streets that were not narrow alleys. And when he remembered his sons, whom people held in awe, and who fought with their own shadows and spread fear everywhere, his resentment against his youngest son grew.
“This is not my son,” he said to his wife, “and I disown him from now till the Day of Judgment.”
But before long there was another knock on the door. Someone came in who corrected the previous news. The youngest son had not been arrested in a demonstration but had been dragged away naked from the room of a prostitute when during the night the police had raided houses of ill repute. Abu Said then sighed with relief and asked about the prostitute. Was she beautiful or ugly? Did she deserve her payment, or was his son hoodwinked? He was told the prostitute spoiled his son by offering her services free. Abu Said’s eyes almost filled with tears of pride in a family that could still go from one glorious deed to another.