“So,” he finally said, “tonight’s the night? You’ll be able to do it?”
“I’ll print enough,” Karim said, “for us to start postering tonight. But we should get going. I’ll need your help — to correct the proofs at least.”
“Where’s the printshop?”
“In a warehouse near the port that belongs to Khaled Omar. He should be coming with Heykal to meet us there this evening.”
“So Heykal’s coming?”
“For sure. He has to give us his final instructions. Did you know this is only the beginning, that Heykal has other projects in mind? Just thinking about it keeps me up at night!”
Karim’s enthusiasm for Heykal’s genius prevented him from noticing the look of sadness on the schoolmaster’s face. Karim was so happy to be caught up in the whole giant hoax that nothing else seemed to matter.
“There are things about him I don’t really understand,” said Urfy.
“Who are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Heykal. Listen to me: these posters — I’m the first to recognize their destructive power. But I wonder if Heykal really wants to take down the governor. I wonder if, to be happy, Heykal doesn’t actually need the governor. What do you think?”
“What do we care if the governor’s taken down or not? That’s no business of ours. We just want to have fun — isn’t that right?”
“I’m sorry, Karim, my brother, but sometimes I just forget to laugh. It’s a weakness, I know, but I can’t help it.”
Though he wasn’t going to let himself think about it, Karim was fully aware of the troubles that weighed on the schoolmaster’s sensitive soul. To have a mother who’d gone crazy was hardly cause for celebration. Karim understood this so well, in fact, that he’d do anything to avoid the woman; she terrified him. When he came to see Urfy, he went out of his way not to cross her path. Now suddenly he felt she was there, spying on them, and he flinched as if at the approach of danger. Despite himself, he turned toward the door. He didn’t see anyone at first; then the crazy old lady materialized before his eyes. There she was, towering in the doorframe like a specter — an old lady reduced almost to a skeleton but with a mysterious, bewitching power. She looked haggard and disheveled. She’d stopped eating a long time ago and now only nibbled at bread crumbs while staunchly refusing anything of substance. Eyeing the empty classroom with its deserted seats, she deliberately ignored her son and the stranger who was with him. At first Karim was petrified; he thought he was seeing a ghost. But then, robotically, he rose and bowed deeply to the emaciated form in the doorway.
Urfy had remained calm. He gestured to Karim to keep still and looked up at the strange apparition, his myopic eyes moist with emotion.
Full of confidence, propelled by an ancient reflex of maternal authority, the old woman strode toward them. Karim thought of running, but it was too late. He no longer felt like laughing, that was sure.
“Where are the children?” asked the woman. “He’s the only one left,” she added, looking at Karim with suspicion.
“Mother,” said Urfy. “You don’t recognize my friend Karim?”
“Of course I recognize him. He’s a good student, he’ll succeed in life. Since the others have left, he’ll recite his lesson for me.”
She walked briskly to the platform and sat down at Urfy’s desk, resolute. With a bony hand she picked up the ruler, pointing it at Karim:
“Well then, young man! Recite your lesson!”
Karim was in hell. He glared at Urfy with the desperate look of a drowning man who loves life and dreads dying. But Urfy paid no attention to his distress — he had assumed an impenetrable mask and was following the scene with the cold assurance of a psychiatrist observing a hypothesis play out. The schoolmaster’s attitude troubled Karim. Was this some kind of revenge, leaving him at the mercy of a madwoman? Was Urfy expecting him to explode into laughter, as he usually did no matter the situation? Yes, it was a dare: that and nothing else.
Finally, at the end of what seemed to be an eternity, Urfy spoke in a matter-of-fact tone without any urgency:
“Mother, it’s time for you to go to bed.”
The old lady didn’t seem to hear; she was sticking to her idea.
“Come on, child! You’re holding us up!”
Karim realized that to escape from this trap, he’d have to play along with her game. Remembering a vaguely patriotic text that he’d learned in his childhood, he started to recite it in a hoarse voice, clearing his throat several times in the process.
The madwoman watched him with her demented eyes; she seemed to be enjoying his recitation. Despite her witchlike demeanor, she still projected the prim dignity of a schoolmistress on a mission.
“That’s very good,” she said when Karim had finished. “I congratulate you! You’ve made progress since the last time. I’ll tell your father that you are deserving of the money he spends on you.”
Karim bowed deeply from the waist several times, as if the congratulations of the old lady were too heavy for his humility to bear. Deep down, he felt intensely proud of his triumph over the circumstance. He grinned victoriously at Urfy, showing that he’d taken note of his challenge and had risen to it handsomely.
Just then, Urfy was seized by panic. All of a sudden he couldn’t see — he thought he’d been struck blind. It took him a moment to understand the reason for this sudden loss of sight: the tears he’d been struggling to repress now filled his eyes, and the lenses of his glasses were all fogged up. He removed them quickly and wiped them off with his handkerchief, his fingers shaking with panic. When he put them back on, he saw that the two protagonists of his nightmare were still in place, immobile, dumbstruck as if waiting for him — and him alone — to break off the session. He hurried to the podium, put his arm around his mother’s shoulders, and all but carried her to the door. The madwoman let him do as he pleased, oblivious now to everything; she didn’t even give a passing glance at Karim. He bowed one last time and didn’t straighten up until they had left the room.
He wasn’t alone for long. Urfy returned right away, deeply troubled.
“Please excuse me,” he said, in a quiet voice. “I’m terribly, terribly sorry!”
Now that the danger was past, Karim was as jovial as ever.
“No harm done,” he remarked cheerfully. He was going to add “It was a real pleasure,” but restrained himself in time.
“It’s my fault,” Urfy went on. “I should confine her to her room, but I don’t have the heart to do it.”
“Don’t feel bad,” said Karim. “You know, for me it was a magnificent surprise! I never could recite that lesson when I was a kid, and look how it came back all of a sudden! It’s amazing, don’t you think?”