De Niro's Game by Rawi Hage

of dried milk? George pointed at the coffee table.
    No, I will pass.
    George wore a T-shirt with three Hebrew letters on it. He looked muscular, quieter, and his hair was shaved. He moved slower and seemed more intense. He poured whisky and talked of the camp in the desert and the training.
    When you sneak up on an enemy from behind to slash his throat, you should hold him by the chin and not his mouth, because he will bite your hand, right? So we had to practise it. Paul Jeouriege — you know, the one who lives in Karm Al- Zeitoun? You know him, Bassam, he drives the white Fiatwith the high spoiler — anyway, he put his hand on Beebo’s mouth, not his chin, right? So what does Beebo do? He bit his hand and he wouldn’t let go, and Paul was screaming in pain,
Wou yallah shid ya, Beebo, shid mitl ma shad bayak awwal laylah
(Push, push, Beebo, in the same way your father pushed on his first night).
    George and Abou-Haddid both laughed.
    Listen to George’s story, Abou-Haddid said to me. Listen. On your sister’s honour, listen. This guy is a big
fannas
(liar).
    George was high and smiling. He looked at me and said, By your father’s lost soul, Bassam, tell Abou-Haddid about Nicole, that young woman who gave me her number in Broumana. You were with me then. Tell this guy.
    Yeah, I was there. She is
hamshah, shalkhah
, I said.
    Shalkhah
, right? said George. Well, I gave her a call. An older man answered the phone, right? I thought it was her father, but when I asked her, Nicole said no, he is her husband.
    Should I call you later? I asked her.
    No, she said, not to worry, and she kept on talking, natural, like no one is there, right?
    So I kept on calling her every day, and sometimes I asked her what she was wearing, and she would tell me she had nothing on, or some lace underwear, or sometimes just a T-shirt.
    So we started to talk dirty, while her husband is still at home, right? When I asked if her husband was there once, she said that he was listening on the other line. So I am thinking, What the fuck? You know, maybe he is not a real man, right?
    The next time I called he recognized my voice and said, How are you, George? Come and visit us sometime. Then Nicole took the phone and we started to talk, natural.
    George approached the tray, kneeled, and took a snort of cocaine. He inhaled through one nostril while blocking the other with his index finger. Then he continued:
    So I went to their home in Surssock. You know, one of those fancy houses. A maid opened the door. The man, who maybe is in his sixties, maybe older, he looked like her father. He had white hair and was dressed in his
robe de chambre
and slippers, and he was smoking a big cigar. He invited me in and started to talk to me in French, right?
Bonjour, George, comment ça va?
He showed me around the house. Then Nicole came and kissed me on the mouth right in front of him. Then she turned, kissed him on the cheeks, and called him
Loulou.
He called her
Bébé
.
    They opened French wine, and all the time Nicole is looking at me and smiling.
    I would fuck them both, yelled Abou-Haddid. And the maid too.
    Wait, listen. George stood up, filled with energy. Listen. Nicole takes off her shoes and plays footsie with me under the table. After dinner, the maid left the house.
    I would fuck the maid, Abou-Haddid interrupted again. I would fuck the maid!
    And we sat in the salon, George continued. She sat next to me and held my hand, right?
    In front of her husband? Abou-Haddid asked.
    Yeah, in front of him.
    What did you do? I asked.
    Well, I said,
Excusez-moi,
but are you really husband and wife?
    Bien oui,
said Laurent — that was the name of her husband.
Bien oui, George, absolument
. Nicole likes you.
C’est quoi le problème, alors?
    Nicole started to kiss me. Then she took my gun and she said, I love strong men.
Regarde, Laurent. Regarde, mon chéri,
and she handed him my gun, right? Laurent looked at it and said,