Abdellah khammar

Entry bell to class

Novel

 

Winter vacation 1

Life is love and love is life

-65-

Tomorrow is the last day of the first trimester before winter vacation for me because I don't work on Saturdays. The phone rang for the first time in my apartment and in Wajdi's apartment today. I went to attend the last lesson before the holidays, which starts next Monday at the English school. The duration of the holidays is only one week, not two weeks, as in the Algerian and French schools. Students wishing to attend the New Year's party have to share the cost of dinner and drinks. At the start of the course, our teacher apologized for having changed program because she had to travel with her husband and suggested taking part in a Christmas Eve party instead of New Year’s Eve. I agreed with Janine to participate and the teacher welcomed Wajdi's presence, since he speaks fluent English. Issam is on vacation in Tunisia with his wife Latifa.

I decided with Janine to start our vacation with a visit to Chréa on Saturday. We decided also not to limit our vacation to a week at the English school. We are entitled to two weeks of full vacation as teachers and students.

- 66 -

We arrived in Janine's car at the height of Chréa. It was very cold, but the sky did not have many clouds and the sun lost almost all its warm. We ran and played with the snow, and enjoyed the attractive beauty of nature. I wore my djellaba and Janine wore jeans, boots and a khaki coat. I gave her two French records as a gift, one by Françoise Hardy, "Tu verras si je t'aimerai" and the second by Jack Brill, "Ne me quite pas". Despite her knowledge of the songs, they have a special meaning for her because they translate my feelings into her own language. She said to me, "I don't know your songs to convey my feelings for you in your language. Choose what you like". I started translating the titles of the existing records and she liked the song by Fadhéla dziria, "O night of yesterday, I swear I did not forget you. If it was possible that you come back!" She bought it and gave it to me.

We went into the traditional clothing store and I bought her a blue Boussaâda-style dress, embroidered on the chest and on its half sleeves with a simple gold thread. She put the dress on her body to see its size, and she was very happy. When we entered a store that sells local souvenirs and European products, she surprised me by buying a sumptuous woolly blue hat. She put it on my head and it was the right size. "It suits your blue suit," she says.

We watched the skiers until we were almost without meals. The restaurants are crowded and we were not careful to book in advance. After a long wait, we had a table for two and we gave the waiter a lot of money. The food was hors d’oeuvre, steak, vegetables and fruit salad. We were hungry but we did not have enough of this meal, and in the evening, we returned, jumping with happiness and vigour.

        I suggested to Janine to go to Tala Guilef in the mountains of Djurdjura the next day for lunch and to study the possibility of a New Year's Eve. We took the mountain road and took care not to get lost in the winding paths. Fortunately, we found a place in the restaurant, sat down for lunch, and took advantage of the picturesque and captivating nature. The service was excellent. I was wearing the hat that Janine gave me. I was elegant and I liked its shape in the mirror with my blue suit. I felt closer to Janine. I took it off when I was sitting and put it in front of me on the table. I was so impressed that my feeling of my pronunciation of French became more eloquent.

We met French people in the restaurant. Two of them work with her at the Descartes high school and an engineer with his wife, the professor who works at Tizi Ouzou. She introduced me to them and they were nice to me. They assumed that as long as I was a companion of their citizen and that I wore the hat, I would share their political and educational ideas. They began their harsh criticisms of Arabization, Houari Boumediene, the Orientals and the Egyptians, and regretted the danger for the Algerian culture. Before I open my mouth, Janine intervened to inform them that I was an Arabic professor and they stopped their attack.

Someone suddenly asked me in a tone that he was trying to be innocent, "How do you say "satellite" in Arabic?"

I replied, "artificial moon" and I translated its meaning into French.

He said, "Wow, I was told there was no equivalent for this word and for many scientific expressions in Arabic".

I said to him, "Even if this is true, modern words can be used as they are. The language is able to develop and assimilate new vocabularies". I said to myself, "The language is not powerless but its communities for historical reasons, including your colonization, are powerless".

A wall was erecting now between these French people and me. They certainly did not want to insult me ​​as a person. However, they considered themselves to represent culture and civilization, their language was its instrument, and that my language was backward. This is unfortunately true, which offended me. The language progresses through the progress of its people. I did not like to sit with them and Janine felt my nervousness and winked at me, and we retired quietly. Janine knew that I didn't get along with her French friends, so she avoided them with finesse.

All the places were reserved for New Year's Eve. Therefore, we returned in the evening and arrived in Algiers late at night. I took a taxi to get to my house and I didn't want Janine to drive me back so as not to go back alone to avoid the risk of city’s night.

-67 -

Deborah Stevenson and her husband Richard Stevenson, unlike the image I had of the English in particular and the Anglo-Saxons in general, were an example of modesty with me and with the Algerian students of class, as well as with all the races of Africa and Asia. I have read in history about racial superiority among the English, the Germans and the Dutch, which resulted in a distant attitude towards the American Indians and the refusal to mix with them as well as the legitimization of the African traffic and their enslavement. Then came the emergence of "ku klux klan" gangs, which pursued blacks after the emancipation of slaves. Finally, the apartheid systems found in some states of South America, the Nazi regime in Germany and the apartheid regime in South Africa. On the other hand, the French, the Italians and the Spanish Catholics were perhaps extremely religious, but they did not believe themselves the best race. Their superiority was religious and cultural, but they never distinguished between races. They were married to the peoples with whom they had mingled without complex. Perhaps the work of Mrs Stevenson and her husband as English teachers for twenty years in Iran, Iraq and Egypt, and the impact of the antiquities of ancient civilizations they saw there, increased their respect for other races.

Certainly, things changed after the Second World War, the fall of the Nazi regime and racial discrimination, although its effects persist in South Africa and in certain states of South America. Mrs Stevenson and her husband treated everyone as equal, regardless of race or religion. They were in their mid-forties; they were moderately tall, with shiny white skin and blond hair and dark blue eyes that they seemed to be from the cold regions of northern Europe.

It was a little past nine o'clock on Sunday December 24 when we were under Janine's house in Wajdi's car. She saw us from the balcony and went downstairs and we went to the desired address on the Glycine “wisteria” road, which goes up from Addis Ababa square and down from Sheikh Bachir Ibrahimi Street. We were all in evening dresses. Janine in a black lace dress, adorned with a magnificent pearl necklace. She puts on a magnificent fur coat on which she insists that it is artificial and unnatural, because she hates the extermination of animals to decorate women. Wajdi wore an elegant black suit, a white silk shirt and a luxury silk tie. I was wearing my blue suit. The "Wisteria" flower, which the road named after it, did not bend over or hang on the walls of the villas as every spring. We are now in winter. Nevertheless, some branches of the jasmine bushes hung from the walls.

We arrived at the villa. The upper part of the wall is a magnificent white marble balustrade. The door of the villa is open. The garden is lit from all angles. We encountered two medium-length palm trees with huge trunks, in the middle of the garden. However, they seem to be giants among the tangerine and bitter orange trees that surround them. The door attendant led us into a large room in the garden which we later knew was the winter and summer room. Its walls are almost all glass windows, opening and closing on command. In winter, they remain sealed, warming up by the central heating device. Open in summer, the mixed nature room becomes part of the garden.

Everything in the room is of wisteria flower colour, light purple; the interconnected carpets that look like a giant carpet, specially designed for this room, the curtains covering the glass walls, the table linen, and the living room sofas placed side by side on the right side of the room forming a square, the middle side of which is open. The three huge chandeliers distributed along the hall and the four small chandeliers placed in the corners, all in the form of candles illuminated according to the atmosphere to be created. They are dazzling, half-dazzling, regular and sieved. The lighting is in harmony with the purple colour of the room.

Mr and Mrs Stevenson received us and led us to the sumptuous living room in the right corner, while the table was prepared in the other corner. The left part of the room was prepared like a dance floor. I guessed that this villa would be for the embassy. We exchanged greetings with those we found in the living room, who are with us in the class or in the other classes.

The small tables in the lounge are full of hazelnuts, pistachios, almonds and peanuts, as well as dishes based on cold meat and fish; tuna and smoked salmon as appetizers. Participants drank glasses of Ricard, whiskeys and cognac with coffee. We drink the juice and our teacher knows that we don't drink alcohol. The sound of various classical and modern music, as well as jazz, comes from an enormous tape recorder with a soft and low voice. We were entertained with appetizers and various conversations that allow us to deepen the knowledge of people and countries.

For example, there have been discussions between Wajdi and our English teacher and her husband about Egypt and the Pharaonic civilization and its antiquities. They stayed for several years in Cairo and Alexandria. The discussions suddenly focused on the Palestinian cause, which hampered the development of the region. I was very surprised when I listened to them. They were very critical of the apartheid regime in South Africa, but they could not realize that it formed twins with the regime in Israel. They were defending the right of the Jews to live in peace, as if that right was threatened, not the right of the Palestinians that their territory is occupied, and its inhabitants are expelled or displaced. I was wondering how the aggressor plays the role of victim.

Wajdi said calmly but bitterly, "There is a similarity between the American and Zionist dreams. Both have been a nightmare for those who both dreams come true at their expense. It was a nightmare for the slaughtered, displaced and persecuted Palestinians, as well as for the Arabs whose lands were occupied so that the Zionists could realize their dream of returning to the Promised Land".

Before the English teacher could comment on Wajdi's words, an Italian engineer intervened saying, "There is a fundamental difference between the two dreams. American pioneers dreamed of freedom for all human beings, regardless of their races and religions despite what happened later. The goal of their dream was to build the future. As a result, it was a human and progressive dream, while Herzl and the Zionist pioneers dreamed of freedom for the Jews alone and at the expense of others. Their dream was to reconstruct the past. As a result, it was a racist and backward dream because it is impossible for the past to return". She added after a moment of silence, "Palestine must be a free and secular state for all races and all religions. Its inhabitants who have been displaced must return to their land".

I followed this discussion with interest and I was impressed by the analysis of the Italian engineer. I felt that Janine sympathized with the Palestinian cause, saying in English commenting on the last sentence, "I hope that with all my heart".

At ten o’clock, we went to the table. We were twenty persons, couples and individuals. The couples are two English couples, a French couple and an Algerian couple. The individuals are two Algerians, an Austrian, an Italian, a Senegalese, a German, a Belgian, an Irish and an Algerian, in addition to the three of us. Mr Stevenson and his wife were seated at the top of the table, on the right. Janine was the first to sit on the right side of the table between Mr Stevenson and me. Wajdi and the Austrian woman doctor sat in front of us, and to my left sat the Italian engineer woman. All in evening dresses and the three Algerian women dressed in evening caftans show their regions of Algiers, Oran and Constantine.

The music suddenly stopped and the songs started coming out of the record player: the first song was "Let the Sun Shine", followed by songs from Joan Baez, Frank Sinatra, Mary Hopkins, Cat Stevens and others, to create a sweet and dreamy romantic atmosphere. The lights around the table went out and the electric candles remained lit above them. The conversation between those present is as well the songs were in English our common linguistic denominator. The table is decorated with flowers with salad dishes, cheese and white, red and rosé wines, as well as cans of English and Dutch beer. Boxes of all kinds of juice were made available to those who did not drink alcohol.

I heard on my left a conversation between the Italian engineer and her neighbour seated at the table, an Algerian engineer. He was sure of himself when he asked her, "Don't you think industrialization will succeed here, and will we be able to compete with other countries soon?"

- "I am an electronic engineer, and I am not an economist. I do not have enough data for the imported machines and the level of technical workers, but what is striking is that the imported tool which cost five cents will cost you five dinars".

- "You are exaggerating. The difference cannot be like that!"

- "It is normal that the director's villa construction costs, the price of his luxury car and his own expenses are added to the costs of the material manufactured. We must also add the car prices of the deputy directors and heads of departments, and their recurring missions, especially during the summer abroad. Finally, the profits of the workers distributed each year during a public ceremony. You can count if this industry can compete with others and how long could the country hide such losses, as if it were covering the sun with the sieve? The industry needs industrialists who are interested in the success of their industry and not routine managers who want to gain personally from this industry".

- "But in the socialist system, industrialization concerns not only profit, but also the promotion of human well-being".

- "You are in a ruthless competitive market. You must first prove your existence; establish a prosperous industry, then well-being. If you start with well-being, you are here in the opposite logic, which will necessarily lead to the catastrophe.

She seemed to know the conditions of the company or organization where she works. I was shocked because I believed what officials said that we had entered the era of industrialization. I learned later that the Algerian engineer was assistant director of an important national institution where the Italian engineer works.

- 68 -

Two chefs in uniforms from El Aurassi Hotel placed two medium-sized lambs and four large turkeys on the table. Grilled and fried fish dishes such as "Whiting", "shrimp", "sea dog" and others were distributed fairly with different salads, boiled vegetables, small fruit baskets filled with pineapple, apples, kiwi, oranges, mandarins and date twigs. The two chefs began to cut lambs and turkeys and distribute them to the dishes, while two waiters stood at the two ends of the table to prepare for any drink request. I was surprised by the luxury of this table, the subscription we paid does not cover a tenth of the costs. I asked the professor and she laughed and replied, "Today you are in the hospitality of the ambassador. When we asked him to use the room, he greeted you, but this is not always the case. However, we have made sure that the party is not official and remains private for students of the Institute. As for the amount you paid, you will get it back later. "

The conversations on the table are double or quadruple and their subjects are light on food, songs, vacations and travel. Sometimes they will get serious, but soon it will regain its lightness. The food on the table started to run out, the bottles evaporated and the cups were emptied. Participants drank each other's toast, toasted their countries. Moreover they drank a  toast of love and a toast of peace. They drank all toasts.

The dancers began to enter the dance floor. Wajdi invited the Austrian woman to the dance floor and started dancing. Janine encouraged me to catch up with the group. The rhythms are played according to the records made, from Slow to the Waltz and from Tango to Jerk. I did not dance with Janine on these rhythms, we do not dance well both. We danced to the rhythm of our love, we didn't care about anyone around us and nobody cared about us. There are no spectators; everyone was on the dance floor. The state of passion made me feel ecstatic that I had not reached the thresholds before. I felt like I was swimming above the clouds of poetry, scent and magic.

 I don't know how long we danced when it was midnight. The lights went out and a minute later, they turned on. The dance lasted for hours; we counted minutes. Our confidential conversations were whispers, sometimes-expressive silence. We whisper the words "I love you", "You are my life", "We will stay together forever", "Do you love me as I love you" and "I swear to do it". Some of these sentences were in English and others in French. We danced until the first appearance of dawn. We capture happiness with our own hands and we will never let it escape us.

- 69 -

Janine told me while we were dancing that Jack had called her a week ago to invite her over Christmas and New Year’s, and she apologized». He called me again yesterday and invited me to an embassy employee's birthday party," she added, looking at me to see the reaction in my eyes and my facial expressions.

- "When?"

- "The day after tomorrow evening".

I did not comment, but I felt that I fell from the summit of ecstasy where I flew away. It looks like she read the lines of sorrow and sadness on my face and asked me, "Are you jealous of him?"

- "Me! Never. But I don't like him because he is arrogant and loves no one".

I lied to her because, in fact, I was jealous of him, very jealous, and I asked her in apparent nervousness, "Do you love him?"

- "What a question, I find him boring. If I love him, I would have been in his arms now, not in your arms, darling".

Her response was logical and convincing, but a jealous lover always finds his suspicions that disturb his conviction. I said to her, "But you are going with him to the party".

She replied with convincing determination this time, "Don't worry, I'm not going to the party. We will be together for all the holidays, do you like it?"

I nodded with satisfaction. I held her hands in my hands and kissed them saying "Thank you, my love".

She surprised me by saying, "I want to visit you tomorrow at your house, to see where my beloved lives".

I was delighted with her visit and asked her enthusiastically, "When?"

"Let's say at 5 p.m. You told me you lived near Belcourt. Write me the address".

I did not find paper with me, nor with her. I wrote the address on a paper towel.

We heard all the tapes, turned all the records and the dancers got tired and started to get off the dance floor. Some sat at the table to collect leftover food and drink, others sat in the living room. With the exception of the Algerian engineer who exceeded the limits with alcohol and the limits of civility with his Italian dance partner, the evening was a success, even a wonderful one.

Mrs Stevenson told me about what happened in the corner of the living room. She said, "I asked him to come with his wife, a high school English teacher, and he claimed she was sick and couldn't come". She added, "I am astonished by his behaviour. I found that in the Arab countries I visited, some men liked to follow the Western way of life in mixed society and dance but they want their wives to follow the traditional lifestyle. What a contradiction! "

The women have retired to a corner of the living room to discuss their affairs. At first, the conversation seemed to be on the Italian, while men were chatting in the other corner of the living room. Suddenly, the debate became European. Other Europeans removed seats from the table to participate in the discussion. I was busy at the table with Wajdi and the other Algerian of the drunken Algerian engineer who was not completely losing consciousness. He did not sleep to free us and he did not vomit to wake up. He kept singing and sometimes was delirious, playing with cups, bottles and saucers, and dancing as if he had a spring of energy did not run out. When he wanted to insult the Italian, he insulted her in Arabic dialect with rude words. We scolded and berated him, but we couldn't silence him.

I sometimes grasp with my ears what happens in the living room when the drunk engineer calms down and he rarely does. English, German, French, Belgian and Irish discussed European unity. The Frenchman spoke of what the French farmers lost in this unity, the German explained what the German industrialists gained and what they lost, and the Englishman doubted the interest of the British to join the unit. Others also weighed what they got and what they paid for. Their discussion was calm and in figures, without spasm and without interrupting or raising their voice. They want to achieve a unity that realizes the interests of their people by mutual consent and consensus. I was jealous: democracy among Europeans is not a slogan, but a behaviour between them. The behaviour of their governments with us is another matter.

It was 4:30 am when we left the teachers of the Institute and went out. The Algerian doctor and his wife agreed to take the drunk engineer to his home. The Austrian came with us because she didn’t drive if she was drinking and she didn’t drink in the evening before making sure that those who were going to take her would not drink alcohol. We took her to Salah Bouakouir Street, Janine to Larbi Ben M’hidi, then we went home and I feel like in a dream.

- 70 -

I spent the day cleaning and organizing the house. I don't want Janine's eye to fall on something that demeans me in her eyes or demeans the people I belong to. She came on time. The doorbell rang at 5 p.m. sharp. I opened it and we hugged for a while. I took off her fur coat, then she sat down and I took her hand to express my joy at her visit. Before I opened my mouth, the doorbell rang.

She suddenly jumped and asked, "Are you waiting for someone?"

I said "no" and I delayed in going to the door lest an annoying visitor deprive me of staying alone with Janine. I looked through the peephole of the door and found a man and a woman and I did not see them well in the light of the stairs. I opened the door and found my mother and my brother Mahmoud in front of me.

I was surprised that my mother and brother came and I hugged them warmly. I carried one of two suitcases and my brother Mahmoud carried the other. I looked embarrassed when I introduced them to Janine and introduced her to them. I stuttered and blushed. My mother and Janine exchanged a few words of courtesy in Arabic and French that they know. Each of them smiled politely and courteously, and she looked the other surreptitiously through the eyes of the woman examiner.

My mother is 52 years old and I am the youngest of her children. Her face tattooed with dots on the top of the forehead and the bottom of the chin, announced that she was once beautiful despite certain wrinkles. Her eyes that I inherited from her, their black colours, their size and their attractions testify to her beauty. She wore a traditional, embroidered black dress. When she removed her scarf from her head, her henna-dyed hair appeared keeping its elegance. Her neck and hands are well decorated with traditional silver necklaces and bracelets. Janine was dressed in her short blue dress, bare arms and shoulders, as well as her upper chest and back. The dress pulled back when she sat and rose above the knees. Her golden hair floated on her back. She was more radiant than ever. She wore a blue high heel shoes and the pearl necklace she wore yesterday was her only adornment. The two women belong to two different civilizations in the perception of the body, nudity and the hijab. Europeans, from the Greeks, wish to highlight the charms of women in statues and paintings, as well as in the design of clothing. They consider that their exhibitions cheer up life and do not discredit morality. While the peoples of North Africa belong to a civilization, which hides the bodies of women and conceals their charms, they consider that hiding women and concealing their charms is the foundation of morality.

I looked at the watch and realized that if I didn't buy meat and bread now for dinner, the stores would close. I didn't know what to do, so I took the basket, I apologized to Janine, and I didn't give her time to say something. I left her with my mother and went to the market with my brother. Fortunately for Janine that my mother does not know French. Otherwise, she asked her dozens of questions about her origin, her age and her job. In addition, what does she want from her son? What does she do with him? What kind of relationship do they have? Are we already married or do we intend to get married? Several questions that neither Janine nor I have yet to be answered. I don't know what happened between my mother and Janine, but when I returned with my brother, Janine was about to leave. I asked her to stay for dinner with us but she apologized.

I accompanied her to her car and apologized for the failure of our evening project. At first, she didn't seem pissed off and said to me, "Don't apologize, it's not your fault". She added nothing. Once in the car, she expressed her anger by starting at high speed without saying goodbye.

Multiple questions surrounded me when I got home about my relationship with Janine. I realized that this visit was not innocent, there is nothing to hide in this country, but who announced the news in Boussaâda? My mother asked for a prayer rug. She took the white prayer shawl out of the bag, put it on her head and prayed Ad-Douhr and Asr. Then she entered the kitchen to prepare dinner.

What I guessed was true: in Algeria, everyone is watching each other. Each individual is a small branch in a tree full of branches and twigs, and once a branch moves, its agitation shifts to the branches and twigs of the whole tree. The news of my relationship reached my mother in Boussaâda in different forms. Some said: "He married a French woman". Others said, "They intend to get married". Someone claimed that we live together out of wedlock. My mother was shocked by the news. When I informed her by phone that I don't come during the holidays as usual, she decided to come quickly. She chose to take my brother Mahmoud because he is the closest to me in age and he can know from me what she cannot do.

I invited Wajdi to dinner with us. I presented him to my mother and my brother. They thanked him and his family for their care of me in Cairo. "Abed informed us of your arrival in Algeria and we waited for your visit to Boussaâda during the holidays with him". Said my mother. I said to my mother, "We will come, God willing, during the spring vacation".

- "It's a promise. Wajdi will come with you and spend the holidays with us".

- "A promise that I fulfil, God willing".

- "On the blessing of God. We will postpone the circumcision of your nephew, the son of Mahmoud until you come to share our joys".

- 71 -

After Wajdi’s departure, and while my brother Mahmoud was taking his bath, my mother asked me "Did you marry her?"

- "No, mom. Not yet".

She said in a fearful and imploring tone, "If you want my approval, don't marry "roumiah" a Frenchwoman".

"Why, Mom? She's a good and wise woman."

“God preserve us. I did not disparage her, I did not say that she is not good but she's not your type. Her religion is not ours and her customs are not ours. Look at her dress; she is almost naked. People will say bad things about you and us. She will take you from us and your children will become  French ".

I said to her, laughing and joking: "It's good to have my children blond.

- "I'm not kidding my son. Do you want to dishonour us in Boussaâda? People will say:" The Imam's son got married to "Romiah" a French girl. "

- "Do not worry about these problems, and leave things to God".

- "Everything is in his will, but promise me, my son, not to marry her".

- "I can't promise you anything, mom, but I'll think about it".

I told her that to reassure her and end the discussion, and I did not intend to leave Janine. However, what I said did not reassure her.

 She said, "So my anticipation was right. This French "Romiah" bewitched you and made you lose your mind". Having not commented on her words, she added: "After your return from Cairo, I left you the choice of marrying your cousin Sharifa or your cousin Amina, so you said that you don't think about marriage. Today, if you want, I will give you one or the other or a girl from Boussaâda, Batna or even from Algiers, an Algerian Muslim like us".

- "Marriage is a destiny as you always say, mom".

- "I hope that God will offer what is good".

I stayed with my brother for a long time after my mother slept. He told me that my mother had called my uncle from Boussaâda. She asked him to intervene and put pressure on me not to marry Janine. Laroussi refused to intervene, but they agreed that she would come to see me in Algiers and then accompany him to Batna. He asked me after I told him about Janine: "Did you kiss her?"

- Yes

- "Is ..."

I interrupted him before he finished the question, "I don't like that anybody asking me these kinds of questions".

- "But I'm your brother and your friend, and we're not used to hide something from each other".

What my brother said was true, we had been close friends since childhood, we talked about everything and one of us hid nothing from the other. He is my closest brother to me in age and character, and he looks like me, but he is bigger than I am. However, since I went to Cairo and stayed there for four years, I have particularities that I don't like to discuss with anyone or rather I don't like to discuss its details. It’s good that my brother knows my relationship with Janine and our mutual love but I no longer accept that he knows the little and big things in my emotional life. I used to have my own inviolable life and not be as common as before.

I said to him, "Please don't be angry because everyone has private secrets kept for himself".

- "I have no particular secrets to hide from you. You are my brother and my friend".

- "It has nothing to do with brotherhood and friendship. My relationship with Janine is not only mine. Our secrets belong to her too and I do not allow myself to divulge them to anyone.

The discussion ended there and Mahmoud was forced to remain silent. He was not convinced but he thought that the French girl changed me. I was honest in what I said. During these years, I felt my individuality and my freedom, the sense of the sanctity of the love relationship and the fact that I had no right to divulge its secrets.

After a while, he said to change the subject, "Do you need a car on vacation?"

I hesitated a bit, and then replied, "I don't need it. Janine has a car".

He laughed and said, "I will not let this Frenchwoman drive you, because you are the man. I will leave you "the Renault" and I will use the van. I will go back to Boussaâda tomorrow morning and your mother will go to Batna with your uncle. You will bring me the car during the spring holidays.

I thanked my brother for the car. I often borrowed it from him and used it for the summer vacation, and he is content with the pickup truck in his work in the date and craft commerce. He is a partner of my uncle in France. They have a store in Boussaâda and a store in Lyon.

- 72 -

We had lunch at my uncle’s house. Just before ten o’clock, we arrived at his house. My aunt made us "Rechta" with sauce and meat. Nobody opened Janine's topic with me. I took my brother Mahmoud to the taxi station in the direction of Boussaâda. He gave me the car documents and I went back to my uncle's house to stay with my mother until evening. I was tired from the evening of the previous two nights and slept until seven o'clock. When I got up, I wished my mother, my uncle, my aunt and my cousin a good trip because they will leave for Batna tomorrow.

I miss Janine and I don't have her phone. I promised to spend the holidays together, but the program is now disrupted. I decided to go to her house. I put my finger on the doorbell at 8 pm. At first, I hesitated and pressed it. The door is partially open, and behind the chain, which does not allow it to be fully opened, appeared a blonde girl at the age of Janine, in an orange robe. I asked her, "Is Miss Janine here?"

- "Who requests her?"

- "I am Abed, her classmate at the English school".

She closed the door, removed the chain, and then opened the door, saying warmly, with a cheerful face, "Welcome. I am Monique, her housing partner". She stretched out her hand to me and I extended my hand to her saying, "Nice to meet you."

- "Janine is not here. She went to a birthday party. I don't think she will be back until 11 pm".

I felt my heart drop from its position and my legs let go. So she went with Jack. I simulated patience and I regained courage. I thanked Monique and went down the stairs. I didn't know where to go, so I left the car near Janine's house. Walking through the streets aimlessly, the images pressed into my head on top of each other. However, one image occupied my imagination alone and it chased away the others: The image of Jack dancing with Janine arms in arms and she kisses him with submissive obedience.

It is very cold and the icy wind blew on my face. At first, the rain was fine then it became downpour and then a heavy rain. I didn't care about the wind and the rain because I burned from the inside. I found myself in her street. It was around ten o'clock. I felt a dryness in my throat and entered a cafe behind the "Algeriens Galeries" building. Its name is "Salle de thé". I didn't find out that it was a bar until after I sat on one of the counter seats. I did not pay attention to those around me. I ordered a bottle of "Muzayah" mineral water with mint syrup. The waiter gave me what I asked quickly and took the price in advance. Ammar Ezzahi’s voice came from the loudspeaker with the song "I deserve the burning of my heart, I wanted to".

On my right side suddenly emitted a pungent scent mixed with the smell of tobacco and alcohol in the room. I heard a female voice speak, but I was concerned about the burning fire of my soul and I did not turn to the right. I felt something press on my feet. I looked and found her foot on my foot. I thought it was not deliberate, so I pulled my foot. She started putting her foot on my foot again and squeezed it with all her weight. I looked at her. I couldn't notice her real face. I saw a mask of white, red and black powders on her cheeks, her mouth and around her eyes, it was impossible to determine her age. "Give me a light," she said, putting a cigarette in her mouth in a vulgar tone.

"I don't smoke and I don't have a match".

She gave me a lighter that was hiding in her hand. I took it and lit her cigarette. She took my hand in her hand while I lighted the cigarette. Then she said coquettishly, "Offer me a drink".

- "Provided that you drink as I drink."

She looked at the glass of mineral water with mint and said, "No. I want to drink Ambassador." She took my hand in her hand and blew the smoke from her cigarette over my face, adding, «Is that a lot for me?"

"But a lot for me". I told her that and I was coughing and chasing cigarette smoke from my face and my eyes. I didn't finish my cup and quickly got up from the bar before hearing the rest of the indecent insult.

I was walking adrift and the wind hit my face and played with my hair and my clothes. The rain persisted and eventually stopped. I always come back to where I started. I don't know how many times I have passed by her building and found myself in front of her balcony. The last time I looked at the watch, it was almost midnight. I was leaving when a black Peugeot stopped. It's Jack's car. Janine was sitting next to him. They were in evening dress, and he showed himself amusing and belittled in front of her. I don't know what he said so she would smile, as I saw her blush. I don't know how her eyes met my eyes and how she saw me. Her face suddenly changed and she got out of the car quickly, but I was faster than she was, so I disappeared on the first bend in the road. I continued to run like a chased. I wandered the streets and alleys for a long time. I found an old newspaper bundle at the entrance to one of the buildings, so I picked up one. I took out my pen and I started pouring on the margins of the newspaper my emotions that almost destroyed me,

"My love

What did you do with our dream? You made it collapse in an instant

Where his intoxicating scent has faded

How its dazzling shine has lost its brightness

How did the dark black colour dominate the other colours?

It has become a terrible nightmare raining sorrows

My love, you hurt me

I thought I found the port of peace in your eyes

I dreamed of washing away my worries and sorrows in their purities

I thought they were my shelter that protects me from life's storms

They were the devil's trick

And an extremely deep abyss

And a bottomless pool

It perishes anyone deceived by its flicker

And it swallows him

*

My suspicions surround me

A whirlwind keeps me at the crater of the volcano

It burns me with two spits

That blinds the eyes

*

Doubts bite me, my love

Transform my humanity

 Burn all the green branches

Smother every flowering branch in me

Wake up the monster, the worm and the snake in me

      *

My beloved

I am hesitated between my doubts and your love

If I am cured of suspicion

If I am sure that, you are my beloved angel

Or a tempting demon? "

I don't know when I got back to the car after an hour or two, so I drove it on the empty streets. That night I proved that the shape of Algiers is spherical. I entered the streets and left others that I did not know in El Biar, Diar el Saada, Hydra, Bab El oued and Hussein Dey, and I found myself again in Larbi Ben M'hidi Street . When I got home, it was four o'clock in the morning. I found Janine's handkerchief on the door handle infused with her perfume. It was written on the handkerchief with lipstick "I love you". I felt it, hugged it, and kissed it. My eyes started to water and I said to myself, "Woe to me because of Janine and her love. I don't trust her anymore, but I can't live without her". I opened the door and found two papers from a small notebook under the door. It is written on the first, "I arrived at one o'clock and I couldn't find you. Janine". I read in the second, "I came at two o'clock". Your faithful love Janine.

I smirked and shouted, "Faithful." You promised not to go with him, and you went. Where is the loyalty? You are a liar and a deceiver. Despite my fatigue and exhaustion, I couldn't sleep. The two messages moved me with new feelings, I saw myself lost, naive and deceived in front of an actress mastering the falsehood and the lie. I took a pen and some paper and wrote, "To an actress". Then I spread my feelings on paper while looking at the photo of Janine hanging on the wall, as if I were addressing her,

Don’t be surprised if I didn’t cheer, jump out of my place to encourage you, and my eyes didn’t shine with admiration.

Don't be surprised. I didn’t miss the splendour of the scene, but I was amazed when people screamed in admiration around me. I was the only idiot because I didn't know as they knew it was a show!

You dazzled me, O hero. O star of all roles, O actress.

*

You sowed seductive words on my way. You wrote me poems that made me sail to a paradise for both of us and to a date that our two mouths will pick.

You told me, you swore to me that you would be mine forever a companion of present and future.

Do not blame a man deceived by your sweet words and did not distinguish your artificial intonation. What is his fault since you played your role well?

*

My love, which yesterday was my love. If you see the nightingale cooing in your garden one day, and it used to be singing. If you see tears in his eyes, and a shiver in his wing.

 Don't think love made him sigh for you. Do not think he will roll his face in the dust to expose his passion and sorrow.

Nevertheless, when he saw his dreams evaporate. His grief does not make him forget the wonderful scene. He comes knocking on your door to say, "O actress bravo, you have reached the summit of success".

I moved the first poem from the newspaper to a paper, then read it and didn't like it. There is a sincere emotion, but its artistic structure is weak. I tore it up and saved the second poem. At dawn I went to sleep.

- 73 -

The doorbell woke me up and saved me from the horrible nightmares of Jack, Janine, Makadri, Hakim and Sardi chasing me. I called my uncle, Wajdi and Issam, to come to my rescue and sometimes I asked Janine for help. I sometimes see her chasing me with them and sometimes encouraging me to escape with her so as not to fall into their hands. Nouara's face appeared once and she blamed me on seeing me run with Janine and said, "You pretend that you are busy with Wajdi and you are busy with Janine".

The doorbell rang constantly and didn’t stop. I opened my eyes with difficulty, and I looked at the watch. It was ten o'clock. I got up and opened the door and my eyes were still closed. I found in front of me Janine wearing a pink dress. It looked like a real rose that was fading. As if, she hadn't slept last night. "Hello," she said to me in her melodious voice. She looked at me with multiple meanings. There is a reproach, an apology, an innocence, a ruse, or that's what I imagined. You can only meet this bright and attractive face with a smile; otherwise, you would be a wild and rude person.

I smiled as I greeted her and invited her to the living room. We did not shake hands or exchange kisses as usual. I washed my face and said to her from the kitchen, "I'm going to make coffee". She came up to me and said, "We are going to prepare it together". We prepared milk and coffee in silence. I said to her, «I’m going down to bring you a croissant?"

"It’s not necessary. I drank milk in the morning. I'm going to have coffee with you." She asked me, "Did you find the letters and the handkerchief?"

- Yes.

She surprised me with a question I did not expect, "Do you trust me?"

I kept quiet and I didn't know what to say, then I replied, "You promised not to go out with him".

- "It's true and I didn't go out with him. Bernadette called me and insisted that I share her birthday. She came and took me in her car. She didn't let me use my car. For the return, Jack offered to take me in his car and I didn't want to disturb Bernadette. That is all. Besides, I thought you were busy with your mother and brother, if I knew you were coming I would apologize for the party. Am I wrong? Am I not allowed to go with my friends when you are busy? "

I did not answer. I know I was wrong.

She added, "You didn't answer my first question, do you trust me?"

I shut up again. She continued: "You must know that I never betrayed the man I love, it is not because I am afraid but because it is my nature and my morals. I loved you because I trusted you and I am like you I do not accept the betrayal of anyone I love and I never betray him. The moment I stop loving you, I tell you face to face and unequivocally even if we are married".

I was sitting across from her in the living room. I approached her, took her hand and kissed her. My eyes started to water and I started to cry. I never used to cry in front of anyone, but my tears overwhelmed me. Janine wept and we hugged each other for a long time. I said to her, "Forgive me, jealousy almost destroyed me. I don't like this man, I can't stand him".

- "And I find him boring, and you will never see me with him again".

I put my head on her knee. She wiped away my tears and I told her how I had passed last night. I translated the second poem to her, "to an actress" orally. I promised to write her translation later. She insisted on hearing the first poem, so I took the torn paper and put it back together. She insisted that I write its translation as the first one and said, "I don't care about its artistic value, but its emotional value. I keep it as a memory and I hope you keep it too and don't tear it apart".

Janine told me how she spent the night. She said, "I saw you when I was saying goodbye to Jack and I heard his ridiculous flirtation despite myself. I got out of the car and tried to come to you and you disappeared. I couldn't call or follow you in the middle of the night. Jack didn’t see you and didn’t know what happened. I said, "I saw someone I know" but he suspected something. I left him mumbling, "I'll talk to you later, thanks for the evening". I didn't give him the chance to go upstairs with me or say a word. I went to Monique's bedroom and woke her up. She panicked and asked, "What happened?"

- "Don't be afraid, nothing, but I want you to do me a favour."

- "What time is it?"

- "Midnight and ten minutes".

- "What do you want?"

- "I want you to come down with me now. I have an important visit that I must make".

- "At this hour of the night?"

- "Yes. I can't go alone. Please wear your clothes, I'm going to change and go".

- "Where are we going?"

- "I'll tell you on the way."

Monique was half-asleep, she didn't talk about it much. She wore her clothes and got into the car with me. I didn't want to speak and Monique didn't ask me because she slept again. We arrived at your place. The car stopped in the yard. I woke up Monique, whispering, "Come up with me".

- «Where are we going?"

- "Chez Abed".

"Are you crazy? You are really crazy but that doesn't concern me. Do you know what you are doing? In this regard, he came to ask after you today at eight o'clock and I told him that you went to a birthday.

- "you mean that he asked after me yesterday, it's one o'clock in the morning".

She was still half-asleep. We went up the stairs and arrived at your apartment. I rang twice and no one answered. I looked in my purse for a paper to write a word and I couldn't find it. I took out my handkerchief and wrote on it with a lipstick, "I love you," and tied it to the door handle. Suddenly I remembered the notebook, pulled out a piece of paper, and wrote the first letter to you. I was nervous and I did not answer Monique's successive questions after waking up. We wandered in the car for an hour and then came back, leaving you the second message”.

We spent the rest of the day at home. It was one of the happiest days. I calmed down and my soul is refreshed and enjoyed the company of my beloved. I knocked on Wajdi's door at noon and he told me that he was busy yesterday with his Egyptian colleagues. In the afternoon, He will go with Faiza to see a film at the Egyptian cultural centre.

I went out with Janine at seven o'clock in the evening. She insisted that we go in her car. We had a roasted meat dinner at Staoueli, and then we visited the beach of Sidi Fredj and Moretti. We stood by the sea at the Club des Pins. At ten o'clock in the evening, it was cold but clear. On the eighth day, in the month of Dhul Qa'dah, the moon played hide and seek with the stars, only to disappear behind the clouds. I was not cold as long as she was next to me.

I said to her, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you until we get old on crutches".

 She looked at me reproachfully and said coquettishly, "Are you going to spend the rest of your life with a demon and an actress? What other qualifications have you given me?"

I knelt before her saying, "My angel, I know what I did was wrong but I hope that you forgive me".