Chapter 40: Never give up

If the émigré felt the need to confide in Botros about this, it meant that they hadn’t been very much in touch in the intervening years. I assume they needed time to recover from their bad mutual experience. But it would also seem that for a time, Gebrayel had wanted to conceal his real situation from those who were near and dear to them. What were his reasons? I don’t know for sure, though frankly, I can venture a guess from having known many other émigrés, both in our family and from other parts of the Mountains. The myth of the villager who sails off with no baggage except two loaves of bread and six olives and ends up the richest man in Mexico ten years later is a story I’ve heard a thousand times, in many a bedazzled variant. Such stories are a constant source of pressure on those who emigrate and often weigh heavily on them. They may be living in the remotest part of the Sahel or the Amazon, but they never escape the gaze of the relatives they left behind, for everyone in the family keeps a watchful, judgmental eye on them. And when they have a touch of pride—a widespread commodity among my countrymen—they don’t dare return home without having proved their worth, or else they return just to go into hiding and die. In fact, a great many of them prefer to die in a distant land rather than return defeated.

As for Gebrayel, who had left against his family’s will, had probably never made peace with his father, and had clashed with his brother when he came over, it was imperative that he have an impressive success before facing his relatives again. He attained this objective in around 1909, about ten years after establishing his business enterprise, La Verdad. That’s when he decided to reestablish contact with the village and request Khalil’s daughter in marriage. At that point, my great-uncle could no longer conceal things indefinitely. Though he did do so for a while, as the story I heard from three people in the family shows.

On the day after his marriage, Gebrayel moved Alice into a modest apartment above his shop, where she was expected to do most of the housework herself. Several months later, looking contrite, he came and asked her whether she was disappointed by the life he was making her lead. She looked at him, baffled by the question.

“Why would I be disappointed? We’re in good health, and we aren’t going hungry!”

“Don’t you wish you had more? A bigger house? Someone to help you? A car?”

The preacher’s daughter replied with complete equanimity, “I don’t wish for more than what Heaven will grant us.”

“Well, Heaven has granted us more!”

It was then that Gebrayel revealed to her that he was wealthy, that they could afford to live like a king and queen. He also told her that he was having a splendid residence built in the best neighborhood in Havana, and soon they would be moving into it.Apparently, my Cuban great-uncle had a sense of drama. Indeed, at this point in his life, his whole way of presenting himself changed, as did the appearance of his envelopes. Until then, prior to April 1912 to be precise, his envelopes were plain, with no more than his name printed discreetly in a lower corner. Thereafter the print was like a fireworks display: the name “Gabriel” was splashed all over it in bold letters, with a long description of his activities—”Importer and representative in silk fabrics, hardware, cutlery, jewelry, and all novelties”—and a list of the foreign trademarks for which he was an authorized dealer: Kremenz, The Arlington Co., La Legal … Surrounding the printed matter was a profusion of drawings representing, among other things, the La Verdad shopwindow and its interior, the inkwells, jewelry, scissors, and razors of his own manufacture, engraved with his name, not to mention the globe struck with his initials, or the inscription “Distintivos masónicos.”

Perhaps this sudden display was also tied to the fact that he hoped once again to convince his brother Botros to come and join him. His letters on this subject were passionate and insistent.

There is an urgent need here for a wise and competent man like you, who could help me run this enterprise and trim it as one trims a tree that has grown too fast. Yes, we urgently need a man endowed with a piercing gaze who could clearly see which branches are the best, and make them grow, and which are least useful, and should be cut back.

I suppose some people will wonder why I don’t do this work myself, since I am right here, and it is my area. I’ll answer that I am swallowed up by this work every hour, every minute, to the point where the tiniest detail takes on enormous proportions for me and I’m no longer able to see things in perspective, as a critical observer might, especially one with the wisdom of a man like you.

Upon reflection, I think it is quite possible that Theodoros acted as an intermediary between the two brothers. He may have written to Gebrayel: “Botros gave up teaching; he has embarked on a project of tobacco crops and is in danger of squandering his own money and that of the entire family; perhaps you should convince him to come work with you …” This scenario cannot be excluded, particularly since it is in keeping with the priest’s ways. I have another instance in mind, which I shall mention in due course …

That said, it is also perfectly plausible that Gebrayel was acting on his own initiative, because he did have a genuine and urgent need for help.

Unless you come, I shall have to reconsider my activity, because if things continue at this pace, my health will be ruined, without a doubt. This has been going on for years, and I honestly can’t bear it anymore. If, unfortunately, you were to choose not to come, I would have no choice but to give up part of my work … I would concentrate on a small number of sectors, I would remain in charge of the factories for which I am the representative, and the products registered in my name, and leave the rest to other people, under some kind of arrangement—partnership, public company, or something … I would have a smaller income, but I would be able to rest a little, and I would have more time to devote to God and to people, especially my family, and to myself as well, for all the health problems I’ve had of late come from this constant pressure on me, these worries that continually accumulate, and this expenditure of energy that is exhausting me. Of course, I have people to help me. I have four in the office, four in the warehouse, four who travel around the country, three at home, plus those who handle the customs, many intermediaries, and people who supervise the factories. But you know me, I have to check everyone’s work myself. Believe it or not, I have to write an average of twenty-five letters a day, as well as dozens of invoices, orders, etc. etc. I am simultaneously boss, secretary, employee, overseer, arbitrator, and if I hadn’t become accustomed to this ages ago, my brain would have disintegrated in half a day.

This is what drives me to request the help of a man who can share this burden and guide me with wisdom toward the best solution. Then, if this man feels that what we are doing is acceptable, he will share the profits with me; and if he feels that some things have to be improved, he will help me do so, and this will benefit everyone.

You should know that the work I expect of you will open a door for all our relatives, particularly since the present situation makes it clear that emigration has become inevitable for them …

The full array of arguments is there: rational analysis, emotional blackmail, and financial advantages. Above all, Gebrayel tries to dispel Botros’s usual scruples: you won’t be doing this just for your good, he says in essence, but for the good of all our relatives, who have no prospects in our country of origin but do here in Cuba!

These arguments were bound to have a persuasive effect on my grandfather. But though he gave the Havana option serious thought, he preferred another alternative. For instance, he would have wanted his brother to open a large branch of his store in Beirut, which he and a few partners could have managed. The family business would then have had two large branches, one in the Levant, headed by Botros, the other across the Atlantic, headed by Gebrayel. A lovely idea, but it didn’t at all correspond to the latter’s plans, and he retorted:

I’m not seeking to extend my activities even more; what I need is help, help in what I am already doing here, in Cuba!