The day the leader was killed

statement. I wonder what people are saying? I’d like to hear what is being said around us in the café. I pricked up my ears. There is no power or might save in God. To him alone is permanence. The country is in obvious danger. He doesn’t deserve this end, whatever his misdeeds.

On his day of glory?

A plot.

Surely there’s a conspiracy. No doubt. The hell with him! Death saved him from madness. Anyhow, he had to go. This is what happens to those who imagine that the country is nothing but a dead corpse. No, it’s a foreign conspiracy. He doesn’t deserve this end. It was the inevitable end. He was a curse on us. He who kills will ultimately be killed. In a split second, an empire has collapsed.

The empire of robbers.

What is the Mafia thinking about right now? I returned to my seat, torn by conflicting feelings of despair, fear, and joy. Vague hopes hovered

overhead,

hopes of unknown possibilities, hopes that the prevailing lethargy and routine would, at last, be shattered, and that one could start soaring toward limitless horizons. Tomorrow cannot be worse than today. Even chaos is better than despair, and battling with phantoms is better than fear.

This blow has rocked an empire and shaken fortresses. By evening, I realized I had started dozing off. All this talk had exhausted me. I felt like taking a walk. There’s a trace of death on every passerby. Suddenly, there I am in front of Gulstan’s villa. Anwar Allam’s car is parked there, awaiting its owner. Sexual desire of every sort takes possession of me and, with it, an irrepressible urge to kill.

Randa Sulayman Mubarak

How awful! Is killing the only way to do it? What do his wife and daughters have to do with it? I’m not for him, but he doesn’t deserve this end. It jolts me back to a reconsideration of public problems after having been so long engrossed in my own, private problems. To kill is hideous and God frowns upon it.

My mother sobbed like one untouched by politics. The living room was gloomier than usual at that particular time. I wanted to know what my father thought about all this.

“My opinion will certainly not revive the dead,” he said.

He peered at me with faded, tired-looking eyes and went on:

“The country is sick with fanaticism, Randa. Where are the days of ‘Why am I a heretic?’ They want to drag us fourteen centuries back.”

He kept quiet for a while and then added:

“I know you don’t entirely agree with me, so suit yourself. However, we do agree on the principle that it is wrong to kill.”

This is as much as we can agree on. I wonder where you are,

Elwan?

You didn’t like him. So are you happy that this is how he has ended?

Suddenly, quite unexpectedly after so long an absence, Elwan burst into our flat with a boldness that showed that he was quite disturbed. When we were alone in the dining room, I asked:

“Where were you when it happened?”

“Forget about that!

Nothing new there.

Randa, listen to me carefully,” he said, markedly perturbed.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“This evening, I found myself in front of Gulstan’s villa. Anwar Allam’s car was parked there. Uninvited and quite spontaneously, I burst into the house. He was the first person I saw. He greeted me and said: ‘Come in…I’m glad you just decided to drop by casually.’ I suddenly cried unconsciously: ‘

You

filthy man!’ and punched him violently in the chest, whereupon he reeled and fell on the floor. At that point, a scream revealed Gulstan’s presence. ‘Stop beating him!’ she cried firmly. I helped him to get back on his feet and led him to her bedroom. I stood there stock-still, almost unconscious. She disappeared for a quarter of an hour and then

returned,

her face pale and a bewildered look in her eyes.

“ ‘You

crazy fool, what did you do? You killed him!’ she muttered. I just stood there, staring at her.

“You crazy fool, what did you do? Why did you kill him?’ she mumbled as her eyes filled with tears. Then, exhausted, she collapsed on an armchair and rested her head in her hands as I began to regain consciousness. I was beginning to realize the enormity of my deed.

“ ‘Call

the police. It’s my fate,’ I finally said.

“She did not move. As for me, I had the strongest urge to disentangle myself from the situation.

“ ‘I

shall go off to the police myself,’ I said.

“She made an obscure gesture of the hand and whispered:

“ ‘Stay

put where you are.’

“Time weighed heavily on me, wracking my nerves like a bulldozer.

“No point in waiting,’ I finally said.

“‘Wait,’ she whispered. She bent her head, averting her eyes from me.

“ ‘He

had a chronic heart condition,’ she whispered again.

“ ‘What

is she thinking about?

Doubt and then a glimmer of hope.

“ ‘But

it was I who…‘

“ ‘There’s

no trace of blows,’ she said calmly, indicating that her troubled mind had begun functioning anew.

“With this statement, she became a partner in the crime. I scrutinized her face in bewilderment, amazed at that aspect of human nature which would, under ordinary circumstances, have forever remained concealed. What a woman! But my joy at the life belt thrown at me was like that of a desperate, drowning man.

“Nothing can be concealed from the doctor,’ I said.

“That’s none of your business,’ she said with utter confidence.

“We exchanged a conspiratorial look.

“Of course, you understand why I’m trying to save you?’ she then said.

“I nodded and lowered my head in disbelief.

“Can I trust your word of honor?’ she then asked.

“I gave her my word of honor.”

“Why are you telling me this secret?” I asked when he had finished.

“There are no secrets between us, Randa.”

“You committed a crime incensed by what had happened to me. You deserve to he saved,” I said bitterly.

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course, I can’t possibly condemn you.”

“Actually, I haven’t told you the whole truth, for after I left the villa, I became thoroughly disgusted with

myself

, despising the decision I had made.

In my state of confusion.

I came over to you to confess everything,” he said, much moved.

“I understand your feelings very well, but I don’t blame you for the decision you’ve made!” I said compassionately.

“But I won’t have it,” he said stubbornly, as my heart went out to him.

“That’s madness!”

“So let it be.”

“Miracles of this sort won’t happen again,” I pleaded desperately.

“Even so.”

“No time for regret.”

“I will never regret anything.”

“I’m not guilty of what you imagine.”

“I shall go back to her to clarify everything,” he said.

“I don’t think you should.”