Free The Wedding of Zein by Tayeb Salih Page B

Haneen after a while. Ahmed Isma’il and Taher Rawwasi joined them, while Abdul Hafeez, Sa’eed the merchant, and Wad Rayyis stayed with Seif ad-Din.
    After a time, his head still bowed, Zein repeated what Mahjoub had said: ‘If you hadn’t come, reverend Sheikh, I’d have killed him. The he-donkey—when he struck me on the head with an axe did he think I’d let him get away with it.’ There was no anger in his voice, the tone being more like that of his natural gaiety; though the others remained silent, they too were infected by this feeling of lightheartedness.
    â€˜But you were in the wrong,’ said Haneen.
    Zein remained silent. ‘When did Seif ad-Din strike you on the head with an axe?’ continued Haneen.
    â€˜At the time of his sister’s wedding,’ replied Zein laughing, his face full of mirth.
    â€˜What did you do to his sister on her wedding day?’
    â€˜His sister had her eye on me. Why did they want to marry her off to that good-for-nothing fellow?’
    Ahmed Isma’il could not help laughing.
    â€˜All the girls are after you, blessed one of God,’ Haneen said in a more gentle and tender voice. ‘Tomorrow you’ll be marrying the best girl in the village.’
    Mahjoub felt a slight palpitation of his heart; having an innate awe of religious people, specially ascetics like Haneen, he used to remove himself from their path and have nothing to do with them. Yet he took warning of their predictions, feeling, despite his lack of outward concern, that they had mysterious powers. ‘The predictions of such ascetics are not made fruitlessly,’ he would say to himself. It was perhaps this that made him say in a loud voice tinged with contempt: ‘Who would marry this imbecile? On top of everything he was going to commit a crime.’
    Haneen gave Mahjoub a stern look, and though Mahjoub trembled inwardly, he did not show his fear. ‘Zein’s no imbecile,’ said Haneen. ‘Zein’s a blessed person. Tomorrow he’ll be marrying the best girl in the village.’
    Suddenly Zein gave an insolent, childish laugh and said: ‘I wanted to kill him, the he-donkey of a man—splitting me open with an axe just because his sister had her eye on me.’
    â€˜Now we want you to make it up,’ said Haneen firmly. ‘Let it end there—it’s over and done with. He hit you and now you’ve hit him.’ He called Seif ad-Din, whose tall form approached, surrounded by Sa’eed, Abdul Hafeez and Hamad Wad Rayyis. ‘Get up and kiss him on the head,’ Haneen said to Zein, and without protest Zein got up, took hold of Seif ad-Din’s head and kissed him. Then he bent over Haneen’s head and covered it with kisses, saying, ‘Our Sheikh Haneen. Our father, blessed of God.’ It was a stirring moment that silenced them all.
    Seif ad-Din’s eyes were wet with tears. ‘I have wronged you,’ he said to Zein. ‘Forgive me.’ He got up and kissed Zein’s head, then seized Haneen’s hand and kissed it. All the men came along: Mahjoub, Abdul Hafeez, Hamad Wad Rayyis, Taher Rawwasi, Ahmed Isma’il, and Sa’eed the merchant. Each silently took hold of Haneen’s hand and kissed it.
    â€˜God bless you. God bring down His blessings upon you,’ said Haneen in his soft, unassuming voice, and he rose and took up his pitcher.
    â€˜You must dine with us tonight,’ Mahjoub quickly invited him.
    Haneen, though, gently refused. Clasping Zein’s shoulder with the other hand, he said, ‘Dinner’s to be in the house of the blessed one,’ and the two of them made off into the darkness. For an instant a shaft of light from the lamp hanging in Sa’eed’s shop flickered above their heads, then slipped off them as a white silk gown slips from a man’s shoulder. Mahjoub looked at Abdul Hafeez, Sa’eed looked at Seif ad-Din, and