In the Language of Miracles Read Online Free PDF Page A

accommodations might be available a month or two before his starting date, had to sit and listen to her explain to him that the key word here was
might
. Nothing was available. Short of paying for a hotel roomfor eighty-some days, Samir had no other choice but to impose on his cousin’s hospitality.
    Loula was not as indisposed to having them as he first imagined. She and Nagla managed to use a mixture of broken Arabic and English to communicate, and in a matter of days Samir could see, to his relief, that the two got along well. Loula introduced Nagla to a plethora of baby products she had never heard of, from changing tables (“Really? A piece of furniture
just
to change a baby’s diaper?” Nagla had later whispered to him) to baby gyms, swings, and all sorts of bottle-cleaning accessories. Nagla slowly started cooking Egyptian food for Loula and Ahmed, taking over the kitchen and preparing dishes of stuffed eggplants and green peppers,
musakka
, and baked fish in a casserole of potatoes, garnished with celery and marinated in lemon, cumin, and minced garlic. Within weeks, Nagla was spending as much time in the kitchen as she had at home, sometimes by herself and often with Loula by her side, trying to learn the exact way to wrap grape leaves around their stuffing. Nagla, Samir realized, was much, much more comfortable than he was.
    Even Ahmed did not seem to mind having them, but Samir suspected that was mainly due to how much Ahmed enjoyed telling him exactly what to do.
    â€œSo you’re really going to take that hospital housing place, huh?” Ahmed asked him one day. They were sitting on the back deck, where Samir found out anyone wishing to smoke had to go. Samir had not expressed his annoyance when Loula, seeing him light a cigarette inside the house only minutes after his arrival, had politely said, “Feel free to use Ahmed’s ashtray.” She ushered him to the deck, opened the sliding doors, shoved him outside, and closed the doors behind him, coughing. He had found the adjustment a bit cumbersome, especially considering how cold the weather still was in April. Especially considering that he frequently had to endure Ahmed’s company.
    â€œI am taking the housing offer, yes,” Samir said, bending out of hischair to flick his ashes into the ashtray on the table between them. Ahmed was smoking a cigar, and the wind, changing direction, blew the odorous smoke Samir’s way. He got up and walked to the railing, stood leaning against it and looking at the hill in the distance.
    â€œIn
Flatbush
? You’re going to live in
Flatbush
?” Ahmed asked. He was sitting in an oversized wicker armchair, both his feet resting on the coffee table, the cigar dripping ashes on the deck. Samir, hiding a vague feeling of alarm that started to creep up on him (what was wrong with Flatbush?), looked calmly at Ahmed and nodded.
    â€œIt’s close to the hospital.”
    â€œYou don’t have to live close to the hospital. It’s Brooklyn! You can take the subway, you know.”
    â€œI’ll be on call a lot, and I don’t want to be too far from Nagla in case she needs me.”
    â€œYou can get a place in Bay Ridge. That’s where all the Arabs live.”
    â€œI don’t want to live where all the Arabs live,” Samir said, his teeth clenched. “I want to live close to the hospital.”
    â€œWell, I don’t blame you,” Ahmed said, crossing his feet. “I wouldn’t want to live too close to Arabs, either.”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant,” Samir said, irritated. That man could not sit without showing the soles of his shoes.
    â€œI’m telling you, they’re not the best company, when you live abroad. Still, Nagla would make friends. And you’d be close to all the shops selling Egyptian food.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, they’re not the best company? I’d love to live close to other