Why Is Dinner Late?

A stagnant light was filtering through the window. The heads of some of the guests were visible, but the roaring waves drowned their conversation. Halim was far enough away that he couldn’t hear what they were talking about. He just stood there, barefoot in the dark, moonless night. Karim, who was also barefoot, caught up with him.

“I’ve had too much to drink,” Halim panted.

“Me too,” Karim replied.

Halim farted, then grabbed Karim by the hand. Feeling cold, they both walked toward the water.

“We’ll catch cold as soon as we get to the water,” Karim said.

“That won’t happen,” Halim replied. “We’ve drunk too much.”

“You mean, alcohol protects you against colds?”

“Precisely,” replied Halim.

“I didn’t know that,” Karim said. “That’s really weird,”

“No it’s not.”

Halim let go of Karim’s hand. They hadn’t met before, only now at a friend’s party. They’d had a drink, talked, got to like each other, and decided to take a walk till dinner was ready. Halim was walking in front of Karim. The latter let out a belch.

“Hey!” he yelled out to Halim.

“What?”

“Why are you walking so fast?”

“I am not rushing. I’m walking slowly.”

“Let’s go back. Look at the light in the window. Dinner’s probably served.”

For the fourth time Halim farted. He could feel the cold water lapping his bare feet. Leaning to his right, he looked behind him but couldn’t make out Karim’s features.

“Dinner’s going to be late.”

“Let’s go for a walk. It’s stifling inside the house.”

“But they’ll start eating.”

“Is food all you think about?”

“No, but they’ll be looking for us everywhere.”

Karim felt something pricking the bottom of his foot, so he stopped. He removed whatever it was and flung it into the water. It was hard and spiny, but not sharp.

“Hey!” Karim yelled again in a drunken tone,

Halim didn’t hear him. He was still walking and savoring the cool sand in the hot weather.

“Hey!” Karim yelled again. “You there!”

Again Halim didn’t hear him; he couldn’t possibly hear him. Karim unbuttoned his shirt and ran his fingers through the thick hair that covered his upper chest. He ran after Halim, but couldn’t catch up. He fell on the sand and started listening to the roaring waves. Looking up, he could see people’s heads moving in the lighted window; he could even make out some of the voices. Standing up again, he turned around.

“Hey,” he yelled a third time. “Hey, you over there!”

But no one heard him. He started walking back toward the house, the light, the window.

“Where’s Halim?” his friend who’d organized the party asked Karim.

“He’s asleep in the barn,” Karim answered.

“We don’t have a barn,” the man told Karim with a laugh. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

“No, I haven’t,” Karim replied. “He’s sleeping in the trees.”

“Oh, right!” the man said, still laughing. “You haven’t drunk too much. But there aren’t any trees either.”

“I don’t know,” was all Karim could say.

“Come and have dinner,” the man told him. “I’ll go and look for him.”