Umm Hussein, Boss Kersha's wife, was now in a state of perma nent distress. The abandonment of an established custom could not pa** without questions being raised, especially when similar disruptions in the past had been accompanied by the threat of disaster, and the custom which Boss Kersha had abandoned was one to which he was greatly attached, one that could only be abandoned for significant cause. While formerly he had invited the addicts who were his cronies to come to the room on the roof at mid night, where he would pa** his time with them until dawn, he had now begun spending his nights away from the house. Depressing memories revived in her mind, along with the pain that robbed her life of any joy. What could make him spend the night away from home? Was it the old reason that unwholesome malady? The prof ligate would say that it was just a change of pace, something to dispel boredom, or that he'd moved to somewhere better equipped for the winter. But there was no question of her swallowing such false excus es when she knew as well as everyone else how things stood. As a result, she was in a state of lingering unease that made her itch to do something decisive, whatever the consequences. Though still under fifty, she was a strong woman and not wanting in boldness, in which she often went too far, and was one of the intimidating women for
whom the alley was celebrated, like Husniya the Baker's Wife and
Umm Hamida, being particularly known for the slanging matches.
*******
Boss Kersha slammed the door hard, the echoing sound breaking
the peace of the night, while Umm Hussein wrung her hands in rage and fury, her whole being filling with the desire for revenge.