I was out of humor. We had some guests. The presence of the guests and my bad humor had riled me. I didn’t want them to get it. They were sitting in the hall and I had a bad bellyache. My father came to me, and asked what the matter is? Then faced me and told:
-you should see a Doctor.
We excused ourselves and left home. The car was parked at the street. But surprisingly father passed by the car and we walked to the Doctor’s office. I couldn’t bear and objected:
-Dad, you have a car.
-Oh no! My dear, not this car
-I don’t fill well.
-we will get a taxi.
And we went on. I felt he was worried. In this moment one of his friends stopped just before us. He had recognized us. He asked us to get on his car, and we did it.
-and he said: Hajji, you have a car.
-Zounds! What do you mean?
-Oh! Muslim, can we use public treasury as private?
And he said nothing more.
And me while had forgotten the ache, no more objected. There was no more to talk about.