With sudden, hammering violence, the past surged up in Isa’s mind, crammed full now of glory and grief, a past, his heart told him, that was taking shape as a bubble about to burst, as a new kind of life from within revealed its outer surface bit by bit, a life charged with new and very strange notions. He could know this new way of life—he had already seen hints of it here and there—but how could it get to know him when he was still inside this bubble and it was about to burst?

His eyes rested on a picture hanging on the wall over the cold heater. It showed a black woman—thick lips and big eyes, not bad-looking. She was leering down at him with a saucy sensuality that spelled out enticement and seduction.

SEVEN

To Isa the atmosphere seemed to be weighed down with a variety of conflicting probabilities, which somehow combined to rob him of his peace of mind. He suffered through his life with his nerves on edge. The postponement of his marriage had become inevitable until such time as the earth had settled under his feet again and his father-in-law had become aware of reality again. Question marks kept springing up in front of his eyes and those of his friends like black flags on the beach when the sea is rough. They all chewed over rumors like colocynth.9 Then he learned not only that his cousin Hasan had been selected for an important post but that the way was clear for him to be appointed to even more important and influential positions. As proof that Hasan belonged to this new world, this particular news stunned Isa even more than the events that had given that world birth. For a while, he did not know how to tell his mother about it, but the old lady did not understand how things really were. “Your turn will come,” she said naïvely. “Don’t be sad. You deserve all the best.”