منتديات منابر ثقافية - عرض مشاركة واحدة

10-28-2011, 05:50 PM

المشاركة 13

ريم بدر الدين

عضو مجلس الإدارة سابقا

اوسمتي

مجموع الاوسمة: 5

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handkerchief, and said:
“Well, climb up here.”
When I was sitting beside him, he put his arm round my shoulders and pressed me to him.
“Sit down. Now let us sit still and be quiet. Will that suit you? This is the same Are you obstinate?”
“Yes.”
“Good-business !”
We were silent a long time. It was a quiet, mild evening, one of those melancholy evenings of late summer, when, in spite of the profusion of flowers, signs of decay are visible, and every hour brings impoverishment; when the earth, having already exhausted its luxuriant summer odors, smells of nothing but a chill dampness; when the air is curiously transparent, and the daws dart aimlessly to and fro against the red sky, arousing a feeling of unhappiness. Silence reigned; and any sound, such as the fluttering of birds or the rustling of fallen leaves, struck one as being unnaturally loud, and caused a shuddering start, which soon died away into that torpid stillness which seemed to encompass the earth and cast a spell over the heart. In such moments as these are born thoughts of a peculiar i86 purity ethereal thoughts, thin, transparent as a cob-web, incapable of being expressed in words. They come and go quickly, like falling stars, kindling a flame of sorrow in the soul, soothing and disturbing it at the same time; and the soul is, as it were, on fire, and, being plastic, receives an impression which lasts for all time.
Pressed close to the boarder’s warm body, I gazed, with him, through the black branches of the apple tree, at the red sky, following the flight of the flapping rooks, and noticing how the dried poppy-heads shook on their stems, scattering their coarse seeds; and I observed the ragged, dark blue clouds with livid edges, which stretched over the fields, and the crows flying heavily under the clouds to their nests in the burial-ground.
It was all beautiful ; and that evening it all seemed especially beautiful, and in harmony with my feelings. Sometimes, with a heavy sigh, my companion said:
“This is quite all right, my boy, isn’t it? And you don’t feel it damp or cold?”
But when the sky became overcast, and the twilight, laden with damp, spread over everything, he said :
“Well, it can’t be helped. We shall have to go in.”
He halted at the garden gate and said softly :
“Your grandmother is a splendid woman. Oh, what a treasure !” And he closed his eyes with a smile and recited in a low, very distinct voice:
“‘Let us be warned by his terrible fate, Nor of meek obedience let us prate. If we are ordered to do something wrong, Our duty is then to stand firm and be strong.’ ”
“Don’t forget that, my boy!”
And pushing me before him, he asked :
“Can you write?’
“No.”
“You must learn; and when you have learned, write down grandmother’s stories. You will find it worth while, my boy.”
And so we became friends ; and from that day I went to see “Good-business” whenever I felt inclined; and sitting on one of the cases, or on some rags, I used to watch him melt lead and heat copper till it was red-hot, beat layers of iron on a little anvil with an elegant-handled, light hammer, or work with a smooth file and a saw of emery, which was as fine as a thread. He weighed everything on his delicately adjusted copper scales; and when he had poured various liquids into bulging, white vessels, he would watch them till they smoked and filled the room with an acrid odor, and then with a wrinkled-up face he would consult a thick book, biting his red lips, or softly humming in his husky voice :
“O Rose of Sharon !”
“What are you doing?” i88
“I am making something, my boy.”
“What?”
“Ah that I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Grandfather says he would not be surprised if you were coining false money.”
“Your grandfather? M’m! Well, he says that for something to say. Money ‘s all nonsense, my boy.”
“How should we buy bread without it?”
“Well, yes; we want it for that, it is true.”
“And for meat too.”
“Yes, and for meat.”
He smiled quietly, with a kindness which astonished me ; and pulling my ear, said :
“It is no use arguing with you. You always get the best of it. I ‘d better keep quiet.”
Sometimes he broke off his work, and sitting beside me he would gaze for a long time out of the window, watching the rain patter down on the roof, and noting how the grass was growing over the yard, and how the apple trees were being stripped of their leaves. “Good-business” was niggardly with his words, but what he said was to the point; more often than not, when he wished to draw my attention to something, he nudged me and winked instead of speaking. The yard had never been particularly attractive to me, but his nudges and his brief words seemed to throw a different complexion on it, and everything within sight seemed worthy of notice. A kitten ran about, and halting before a shining pool gazed at its own reflection, lifting its soft paw as if it were going to strike it.
“Cats are vain and distrustful,” observed “Good-business” quietly.
Then there was the red-gold cock Mamae, who flew on to the garden hedge, balanced himself, shook out his wings, and nearly fell; whereupon he was greatly put out, and muttered angrily, stretching out his neck:
“A consequential general, and not over-clever at that.”
Clumsy Valei passed, treading heavily through the mud, like an old horse ; his face, with its high cheek-bones, seemed inflated as he gazed, blinking, at the sky, from which the pale autumn beams fell straight on his chest, making the brass buttons on his coat shine brilliantly. The Tartar stood still and touched them with his crooked fingers “just as if they were medals bestowed on him.”
My attachment to “Good-business” grew apace, and became stronger every day, till I found that he was indispensable both on days when I felt myself bitterly aggrieved, and in my hours of happiness. Although he was taciturn himself, he did not forbid me to talk about anything which came into my head; grandfather, on the other hand, always cut me short by his stern exclamation:
“Don’t chatter, you mill of the devil !”
Grandmother, too, was so full of her own ideas that she neither listened to other people’s ideas nor admitted them into her mind; but “Good-business” always listened attentively to my chatter, and often said to me smilingly :
“No, my boy, that is not true. That is an idea of your own.”
And his brief remarks were always made at the right time, and only when absolutely necessary; he seemed to be able to pierce the outer covering of my heart and head, and see all that went on, and even to see all the useless, untrue words on my lips before I had time to utter them he saw them and cut them off with two gentle blows:
“Untrue, boy.”
Sometimes I tried to draw out his wizard-like abilities. I made up something and told it to him as if it had really happened; but after listening for a time, he would shake his head.
“Now that ‘s not true, my boy.”
“How do you know?”
“I can feel it, my boy.”
When grandmother went to fetch water from Syeniu
Square, she often used to take me with her ; and on one occasion we saw five citizens assault a peasant, throwing him on the ground, and dragging him about as dogs might do to another dog. Grandmother slipped her pail off the yoke, which she brandished as she flew to the rescue, calling to me as she went:
“You run away now !”
But I was frightened, and, running after her, I began to hurl pebbles and large stones at the citizens, while she bravely made thrusts at them with the yoke, striking at their shoulders and heads. When other people came on the scene they ran away, and grandmother set to work to bathe the injured man’s wounds. His face had been trampled, and the sight of him as he pressed his dirty fingers to his torn nostrils and howled and coughed, while the blood spurted from under his fingers over grandmother’s face and breast, filled me with repugnance; she uttered a cry too, and trembled violently.
As soon as I returned home I ran to the boarder and began to tell him all about it. He left off working, and stood in front of me looking at me fixedly and sternly from under his glasses; then he suddenly interrupted me, speaking with unusual impressiveness :
“That ‘s a fine thing, I must say very fine !”
I was so taken up by the sight I had witnessed that his words did not surprise me, and I went on with my story; but he put his arm round me, and then left me and walked about the room uncertainly.
“That will do,” he said; “I don’t want to hear any more. You have said all that is needful, my boy all. Do you understand?”
I felt offended, and did not answer; but on thinking the matter over afterwards, I have still a lively recollection of my astonishment at the discovery that he had stopped me at exactly the right time. I had, in truth, told all there was to tell.
“Do not dwell on this incident, child; it is not a good thing to remember,” he said.
Sometimes on the spur of the moment he uttered words which I have never forgotten. I remember telling him about my enemy Kliushnikov, a warrior from New Street a fat boy with a large head, whom I could not conquer in battle, nor he me. “Good-business” listened attentively to my complaint, and then he said :
“That ‘s all nonsense ! That sort of strength does not count. Real strength lies in swift movements. He who is swiftest is strongest. See?”
The next Sunday I used my fists more quickly, and easily conquered Kliushnikov, which made me pay still more heed to what the boarder said.
“You must learn to grasp all kinds of things, do you see”? It is very difficult to learn how to grasp.”
I did not understand him at all, but I involuntarily remembered this, with many other similar sayings ; but this one especially, because in its simplicity it was provokingly mysterious. Surely it did not require any extraordinary cleverness to be able to grasp stones, a piece of bread, a cup or a hammer !
In the house, however, “Good-business” became less and less liked ; even the friendly cat of the merry lady would not jump on his knees as she jumped on the knees of the others, and took no notice when he called her kindly. I beat her for that and pulled her ears, and, almost weeping, told her not to be afraid of the man.
“It is because my clothes smell of acids that is why he will not come to me,” he explained; but I knew that every one else, even grandmother, gave quite a different explanation uncharitable, untrue, and injurious to him.
“Why are you always hanging about him 9” demanded grandmother angrily. “He’ll be teaching you something bad you’ll see !”
And grandfather hit me ferociously whenever I visited the boarder, who, he was firmly convinced, was a rogue.
Naturally I did not mention to “Good-business” that I was forbidden to make a friend of him, but I did tell him frankly what was said about him in the house :
“Grandmother is afraid of you; she says you are a black magician. And grandfather too he says you are one of God’s enemies, and that it is dangerous to have you here.”
He moved his hand about his head as if he were driving away flies ; but a smile spread like a blush over his chalk-white face, and my heart contracted, and a mist seemed to creep over my eyes.
“I see !” he said softly. “It is a pity, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It ‘s a pity, my lad yes.”
Finally they gave him notice to quit. One day, when I went to him after breakfast, I found him sitting on the floor packing his belongings in cases, and softly singing to himself about the Rose of Sharon.
“Well, it ‘s good-by now, my friend; I am going.”
“Why?”
He looked at me fixedly as he said:
“Is it possible you don’t know? This room is wanted for your mother.”
“Who said so?’
“Your grandfather.”
“Then he told a lie!”
“Good-business” drew me towards him; and when I sat beside him on the floor, he said softly :
“Don’t be angry. I thought that you knew about it and would not tell me; and I thought you were not treating me well.”
So that was why he had been sad and vexed in his manner.
“Listen!” he went on, almost in a whisper. “You remember when I told you not to come and see me?”
I nodded.
“You were offended, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“But I had no intention of offending you, child. I knew, you see, that if you became friendly with me, you would get into trouble with your family. And wasn’t I right? Now, do you understand why I said it?”
He spoke almost like a child of my own age, and I was beside myself with joy at his words. I felt that I had known this all along, and I said :
“I understood that long ago.”
“Well, there it is. It has happened as I said, my little dove !”
The pain in my heart was almost unbearable.
“Why do none of them like you?”
He put his arm round me, and pressed me to him and answered, blinking down at me:
“I am of a different breed do you see? That’s what it is. I am not like them ”
I just held his hands, not knowing what to say; incapable, in fact, of saying anything.
“Don’t be angry!” he said again; and then he whispered in my ear : “And don’t cry either.” But all the time his own tears were flowing freely from under his smeared glasses.
After that we sat, as usual, in silence, which was broken at rare intervals by a brief word or two; and that evening he went, courteously bidding farewell to every one, and hugging me warmly. I accompanied him to the gate, and watched him drive away in the cart, and being violently jolted as the wheels passed over the hillocks of frozen mud.
Grandmother set to work immediately to clean and scrub the dirty room, and I wandered about from corner to corner on purpose to hinder her.
“Go away !” she cried, when she stumbled over me.
“Why did you send him away then?”
“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
“You are fools all of you !” I said.
She flicked me with her wet floorcloth, crying :
“Are you mad, you little wretch?”
“I did not mean you, but the others,” I said, trying to pacify her; but with no success.
At supper grandfather exclaimed :
“Well, thank God he has gone! I should never have been surprised, from what I saw of him, to find him one day with a knife through his heart. Och ! It was time he went.”
I broke a spoon out of revenge, and then I relapsed into my usual state of sullen endurance. Thus ended my friendship with the first one of that endless chain of friends belonging to my own country the verv best of her people.

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