Balthasar's Odyssey by Amin Maalouf

Author:Amin Maalouf [Maalouf, Amin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: nepalifiction, TPB
ISBN: 978-1-61145-540-3
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2011-10-12T18:15:00+00:00

When I was getting up this afternoon after my siesta, Hatem came and told me a young boy wanted to see me. He brought me a note from Abdellatif the scribe, asking if I could honour him with a visit: his son would show me the way to his house.

He lives not far from the Citadel, in a house less modest than I would have expected, but which I gather he shares with three of his brothers and their families. The place is full of children fighting, barefoot women running after them, and men shouting orders.

Once the courtesies were over, Abdellatif took me to a quieter room on the first floor, and invited me to sit on the floor beside him.

“I think I know where the man you’re looking for is,” he said.

One of his nieces brought us cool drinks. He paused, and didn’t go on until she’d left, shutting the door behind her.

He told me Sayyaf had indeed been arrested in Smyrna, for theft, five or six years ago, but was only in prison for a year. After that he went to live on the island of Chios in the Cyclades, where he’s supposed to have managed to prosper, by some dubious means.

“If he hasn’t been bothered by the police, it’s because someone’s protecting him. The local people are even said to be afraid of him.”

My friend was silent for a few moments, as if pausing for breath.

“I hesitated for a while before sending for you. I’m not supposed to give such information to a Genoese merchant. But I couldn’t let a good man go on wasting more of his time and money looking for a scoundrel.”

I told him how grateful I was in all the Arabic and Turkish phrases I could think of, embraced him, and kissed his beard as if we were brothers. Then I bade him farewell without giving any sign of the disarray I was in because of his revelations. So what am I to do now? And what ought Marta to do? She embarked on this journey with the sole object of obtaining proof that her husband was dead. And now we find out that the opposite is the case. The fellow’s still alive, and she’s no longer a widow. Can we go on living under the same roof? Can we ever go back to Gibelet together? My head’s in a whirl.

I came back from Abdellatif’s about two hours ago, and pretended to the others, who were anxiously awaiting me, that he just wanted to show me a gold ewer that was in his family. Marta didn’t look convinced by this explanation, but I don’t yet feel ready to tell her the truth. I’ll do so tomorrow, probably, or the day after tomorrow at the latest. Because she’s sure to ask my opinion about what she should do, and at present I feel incapable of advising her. If she was tempted to go to Chios, ought I to dissuade her? And if she insisted

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