Love in the Kingdom of Oil Read Online Free PDF Page A

know about Numu, the first goddess of the waters?’
    ‘Numu?’
    ‘And Inana, the goddess of nature and fertility?’
    ‘Inana?’
    ‘And Sekhmet, the goddess of death?’
    She did not know that there were such things as goddesses. The prophets were all men, and there was not a woman among them. How then could there be female gods? Which are higher in rank, prophets or gods? As for the god of death, his name was Ezra’el not Sekhmet, and he was male not female.
    She was reading in the light of the lamp. He was sitting in his usual place. His top half was hidden behind the newspaper.
    ‘Are you reading?’
    All that was visible of him were his feet and legs. His angular knees stuck out from under his nightshirt. Were his eyes in his knees? She no sooner opened her book and started to read than she could see them shaking – was it in irritation?
    ‘Leave the book.’
    ‘The exam is tomorrow. I haven’t finished revising and . . .’
    ‘I’m hungry.’
    She looked at the watch on her wrist. Ten past nine. She had prepared him his food an hour previously. How could he get hungry again so quickly? And if he was hungry, the saucepan was on the stove, and the kitchen was only three paces away. She saw him sitting down shaking his knees and moving his feet in the air, cracking his toes.
    ‘I’m thirsty.’
    He never stopped making demands. Like a child, he could neither feed himself nor get himself something to drink. He would no sooner see her opening a book than he would shout. As if the book was another man who was taking her from him.
    She hid the book under the pillow. She would wait until he was asleep, sound asleep, and his snoring had begun to rise and fall regularly. She opened the book and read. In it there were commands from the mother goddess to her daughter:
    ‘Do not forget your mother.’
    ‘Bear her as she bore you.’
    ‘She bore you in her stomach for a whole year.’
    ‘She gave you her life and died.’
    In the quietness of the night, the voice rang in her ears. She had never heard the voice of her mother except when she was a foetus in the womb. She saw him turning over in his sleep as if he heard the voice. His hairs bristled in irritation. He opened his eyes suddenly and she hid the book. He rolled over on his other side and went back to sleep. She lay in her place waiting. She did not know if he was sleeping or pretending to sleep. His breathing had not grown louder yet and the rise and fall of his snoring was not regular.
    ‘Are you awake?’
    She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. She let her breathing rise and fall. Then she fell asleep. Her body was falling down and down as if into a well.
    * * *
    Everything was becoming damp, even the bed covers. A black dampness with a pungent smell. She saw him kneeling down on his hands and feet. Then he stretched out his arm towards her. He began to gaze into her face without changing his position. His lips hung open in an unnatural fashion, and the hair on his chest was exposed.
    She realised that he was determined to go ahead with this game. So her muscles contracted, and she purposefully locked up her body. She pursed her lips and pretended to sleep.
    The black liquid poured down even more profusely with a sound like a waterfall. It came up to his knees as he sat there. He jumped up, his body sluggish, yawning. He rubbed his eyes. He blew his nose in the basin. He brought a ladle from the kitchen. He began to ladle it up from the ground. He bent over until his torso stretched downwards. He filled the ladle and raised it with his arms, at the same time raising his torso. He emptied it in the jar. He filled jar after jar without stopping.
    ‘The level is rising awfully fast.’
    ‘All good things come from God.’
    ‘I’m suffocating.’
    ‘Don’t stand around like that. Get down on your knees.’
    He made her kneel down like a camel. He wrung out an old rag, then folded it into a circle and placed it on her head. He fastened it with a