A Palace in the Old Village by Tahar Ben Jelloun Read Free Book Online Page B

time to do things like that.
    Fortunately, Nabile is here. Nabile, a gift from God, a light in my life. Like me, he doesn’t read well and writes with difficulty, but there’s something enchanting about him. He’s an angel. When he enters a room, he can spot right away those people who make faces or won’t accept his condition. He ignores them. He’s incapable of having negative feelings. To me, he has been more than a son: a compass, a guide, sunshine in my grey life, a smile that wipes away a world of woe. I like to go out with him to a restaurant. He loves to dress up and have fun. It’s for him that I put on a tie. He insists on that. Without him, I think my life would have been even more difficult and dispiriting. I thank God for sending him to us. When he goes back home to the village, he talks constantly to his parents, telling them about his life with words that no one understands, but he knows that, so he expresses himself with gestures, and then he gets them laughing. He’s a clown, a comedian, he’s a real actor, by the way, he loves putting on a show, doing magic tricks, acrobatics, and he’s so limber and inventive that everyone’s astonished . I believe that if he’d stayed in the village he’d be a vegetable today, drooling, with no zest for life. Back home we don’t do a thing for such children, just leave them to nature, like animals; no one hurts them, but no one takes care of them, either. In LaFrance he’s been to school, played sports, learned music; he’s happy.
    I’m afraid for him. One day he was the one who said to me: I’m afraid for you. He said it quite clearly. He may be the only one in the family who has understood me. He’d noticed I was glum, pensive, dejected. It brought tears to my eyes. Afraid for me! He’s right: sometimes Itoo am afraid for my health, my mental equilibrium. I may be silent, but I’m thinking, I think all the time, which doesn’t show, so my wife, poor woman, doesn’t know all this and cannot understand how unhappy I am, but I don’t want to upset her. She’s a good mother who lives only for her children, as I do, even though I’ve begun to realise that something is wrong. Then I remember Nabile, and the sun comes out again in my heart. He’s the only child in the family who brightens my Sundays.
    At a school assembly, his principal once announced that he was on the honour roll. Nabile was pleased, but expectant, and finally asked, So where’s the roll? Everyone laughed, and so did he. He’d done it on purpose, to add some fun. At home my youngest daughter has paid the most attention to him. She’s deeply fond of this gentle , sensitive boy. Another time he got into a fight during recess because a boy called him a Mongol, and he taught that kid a lesson.
    Nabile is athletic, well built, muscular, and good-looking . He doesn’t think of himself as handicapped and likes to help people. When he sees someone having trouble walking, he’ll take an arm and escort that person across the street. He has hidden gifts. One day we were at Marcel’s place. Suddenly we heard somebody playing the piano—and not a beginner, either, just hitting any old keys. It was Nabile, who had quietly sat down at the instrument and begun improvising, to the delight and amazement of us all. He’s an independent boy, meticulous , a bit of a perfectionist. 

6
    I WATCHED THE ELECTIONS, when Le Pen sprang his big surprise on Chirac, and I had a good laugh, but my wife was afraid and wondered if we should start packing.* No, I said, don’t worry, Le Pen needs us, oh yes. Imagine this country emptied of its immigrants, when he could no longer blame all evil and uncertainty on us, claiming that we’re taking advantage of social security and child benefits! He’d be in a fix without Arabs to pick on. No, he’s putting on his usual act. He’ll never get any real power, but who knows, politics—sometimes I watch it on TV, and when they talk about us it’s a bad sign. No