Malek and Abdel Qader lived together in something resembling a house and shared the monthly rent without any problems, for they had been born in the same village, had loved the same young woman, experienced the same humiliations, been subject to the same contempt, graduated from the same university, and faced the same unemployment.
One rainy morning Abdel Qader awoke from his sleep, his indignant face expressing revulsion over his old and threadbare socks. He said to Malek that even though it was raining he was going to the souk to buy a new pair of socks, and Malek asked him in a merry voice to buy him a desirable woman. Abdel Qader said, “Malek, my brother, don’t ask for what I can’t do. The woman who appeals to me may not appeal to you.”
“Don’t argue,” said Malek. “I’m confident the woman who pleases you will please me as well.”
Abdel Qader smiled and said, “I’ll try to buy you a woman beyond compare.”
“I want one with fair skin.”
“She will be whiter than pharmacy cotton, and her whiteness will turn rosy red when she feels happy, angry, or embarrassed.”
“And I want her to have long black hair.”
“Her hair will be as black as charcoal. And if she turns out to be a blonde, I’ll order her to dye it black.”
“I want her flesh to be cool in summer and warm in winter. And I want her to laugh as though there were no sorrow in the world. And I want her so obedient that if I said there was no water in the sea she would immediately believe that all seas are dry.”
Abdel Qader laughed and said, “If I should run into such a woman, I’ll forget about all my friends and buy her for myself.”
“Don’t lie,” Malek said confidently. “You’re not one of those men who betray a friend for a woman.”
Abdel Qader promised to buy the most beautiful woman he could find, and Malek pretended to be pleased and said to Abdel Qader, cautioning, “Make sure you don’t choose one of the kind that bites.”
Abdel Qader was away for several hours in the souk buying the new socks he needed, but he did not buy a woman. “All the women in the souk were for short-term loan and not for sale,” he said to Malek. “Anyone who takes a look at them will be struck with headaches and nausea.”
“I changed my mind while you were away,” said Malek. “I decided to buy a television set with a big, wide screen. It will be more entertaining.”
Malek was not just babbling. A few days later he acquired a television set with a small screen, and Abdel Qader said, “You go ahead and spend the evening enjoying your TV, and I’ll spend it in pleasant conversation with my socks. Tomorrow morning we’ll find out whose evening was more entertaining.”
Malek lay back in his room watching what there was to see on the small screen, and in a few hours found himself struggling against a drowsiness that made his eyelids heavy. He imagined he had been handcuffed, his eyes and mouth taped shut, and surrounded by people who had come out of the screen. They stood around and started rebuking him angrily: “The programs opened with the national anthem. Why did you yawn and not stand up respectfully?”
An announcer with a beard reproached him, “Why didn’t you listen to the holy Qur’an rather than keeping yourself busy watching a fly?”
In an accusing voice a heavyset female announcer said, “Weren’t you ashamed to smile ironically every time you heard a word about women’s rights?”
A comic actor said contemptuously, “Who do you think you are that you didn’t laugh when I was acting?”
A female singer asked in surprised tones, “Are you a wall? I sing till my voice goes hoarse but you never show pleasure by dancing!”
What Malek had imagined made his eyes open wide, and he intently watched the news, which showed a scene of soldiers firing at children marching in an angry demonstration. He imagined that a stray bullet had hit him in the chest and thrown him to the ground, and he groaned in pain and terror. He checked his breast with trembling fingers, but there was no wound and no blood dripping from his fingers. He wondered why he should still feel pain, and his hand leaped to turn off the television. Yet he continued to see soldiers descending with their swords upon the necks of men, women and children, and setting on fire green trees, which could not cry out for help.