Chicago

Chapter 20

Marwa called her parents on Friday. As soon as her mother asked her how she was, she burst out crying. Her mother was quite moved and began to calm her down and ask her what the matter was. Marwa told her everything: Danana’s miserliness, his selfishness, and his coveting her fortune. She also hinted at their intimacy problem. When she said that he slapped her on the face her mother got extremely angry and shouted, “May his hand be cut off! He should learn how to respect the daughters of good families.”

Marwa was reassured by her mother’s angry reaction in solidarity with her, and after a lengthy interlude of complaining and consoling, Marwa said she insisted on getting a divorce from Danana. Thereupon, much to her surprise, the mother’s position went to the other extreme. She rejected talk of divorce “because it is not a game.” She said that if every marital problem ended in divorce, not one woman would stay married. She assured her daughter that all houses had problems and that the first year was the most difficult in any marriage. A wise wife, she reminded her daughter, would patiently put up with the shortcomings of her husband and strive to rectify them so that life might go on. She gave herself as an example: early on in her own marriage she had to put up with Hagg Nofal’s extremely short fuse (and other bad traits to which she alluded without giving any details) until God finally guided him to the right path and he became such a model husband that all women envied her on his account. But Marwa said, “You cannot compare Danana to my father at all.”

“Listen, what do you want?”

“Divorce.”

Her mother burst into a violent, typical Egyptian woman’s reaction. “I don’t want to hear this word, understand?”

“But I hate him. I can no longer stand him touching me.”

“I don’t like beating around the bush. I am going to ask you one question. Is your husband a man?”

Marwa made no reply.

“Answer me: is he a man?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then, time will take care of all problems.”

“But he…”

“For shame, Marwa, stop. Girls of good families don’t talk about these subjects, ever. Have you gone crazy or has life in America made you forget the way you were brought up? This thing in particular most women do out of a sense of duty and tomorrow God will bless you with children and you’ll forget it completely.”

Marwa saw no use in continuing the conversation so she ended the call with a few ambiguous words. Then she sat down to think about what her mother had said, but the telephone rang again and she was surprised to hear her father’s voice. He spoke to her more calmly and in a more affectionate way and yet he repeated what her mother had said. At the end he said, begging her, “You’ve always been a dutiful girl. Don’t do anything rash. There’s nothing worse than a wrecked home.”

That night she didn’t go to bed. She tossed and turned on the sofa until she came to when she heard Danana performing ablution for the morning prayer. She recalled what had happened and reflected on it: her father and mother were the ones who loved her most in this world and yet they were both strongly against the idea of divorce. Could she be mistaken? Could she be rushing to conclusions and ruining her home, something she would possibly regret when it was too late? She recalled the word divorce, and for the first time it sounded strange to her and frightening. For the first time divorce seemed to be something mysterious and tragic, like death or suicide. Images of divorced women she had crossed paths with came rushing to her mind. A divorced woman was one who had failed to keep her husband, who was suffering loss and distress, who was a burden on her family and friends, who was chased by all kinds of men because, not being a virgin, she had nothing to lose. She was a woman whom people pitied and accused in many unstated ways. She did not want that image for herself and she had to respect the advice of her parents because they had more experience than she and because they wanted nothing for her except happiness and a good life. Besides, she had never married before and had no experience with men (except light, casual attraction to some college classmates that never went beyond lengthy telephone conversations). What did she know? Couldn’t it be that most women suffered like her and just stuck it out to keep the family together? Didn’t her mother say explicitly: “This intimate relationship we women consider just a matter of duty, and after having children we might forget it completely”? Couldn’t it be that her mother, like her, had suffered in bed and yet was able to love her father and have children with him and go on living with him for many years? Wouldn’t it be better for her to reconsider her relationship with Danana?

True he was greedy, a miser, and only cared about himself, but didn’t he also have some good qualities? Was all he did just evil? To be fair, she had to admit that he was pious, had a sense of humor, and often, during those rare moments of peace and contentment, made her laugh with his sarcastic similes and comments. Her husband had his good and bad points like everyone else in the world and she had to remember the good as she did the bad. Marwa spent the night thinking, and in the morning she got up, took a bath, performed her ablutions and her prayers, and when she looked at her face in the mirror, she felt she had changed, that her features were showing signs of determination. She felt she was beginning a new, different Chapter in her life. She heard her husband’s footsteps and deliberately stood close by and said with a smile, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Danana replied in a lukewarm tone of voice, realizing that his wife had rejoined the fold. He decided to take his time before taking her back, in order to teach her a lesson so she wouldn’t deviate again. She went on in an apologetic, placating tone, “Would you like me to fix you breakfast?”

“I’ll eat at school.”

“I’ll make you some eggs with basterma, quick.”

“Thanks.”

Danana played hard to get for a whole day, and then he showed signs of relenting after delivering a short speech. “Your father called me yesterday. Thank God he is a good and pious man, and I am saying that just for the sake of the truth. I told him what you have done and I said that I used my shari‘a-sanctioned right to discipline you within the minimum boundaries. Anyway, Marwa, for the sake of Hagg Nofal, I have forgiven you this time, but I am warning you, good woman, not to listen to Satan’s evil temptations. Take refuge in God away from Satan, who deserves to be stoned, perform your prayers regularly and fear God as you tend your husband and your home.”

Life between the two of them went back to what it used to be. In fact, it was much better. Marwa started to show interest in her husband and was sweet to him. She cooked his favorite dishes and waited to eat with him and had long conversations with him. The change in her was so great it astonished Danana himself and confirmed his idea that women were mysterious beings full of contradictions and that it was impossible to fathom their reactions or deep desires. Marwa did all she could to get along with her husband and seemed to be playing the role of the contented wife quite well. Even their encounters in bed, which had often tormented her, she was able to cope with in a creative way. As soon as Danana fell upon her with his erection, the moment she felt his feverish panting on her face as he tried to kiss her and as his saliva mixed with the bitter taste of tobacco reached her mouth, and as she felt his heavy paunch pressed against her belly causing her to feel almost nauseated — at that moment that had often tormented her, Marwa learned to close her eyes and forget Danana. She would concentrate first on banishing his picture from her mind, then she imagined that she was embracing another man: handsome, attractive, and exciting.

In time, Marwa was able to assemble a group of secret lovers, all of whom she slept with in her imagination: Rushdi Abaza, Kadhim al-Sahir, and Mahmud Abd al-Aziz. Even Dr. Said al-Daqqaq, professor of general finance at Cairo University Business School, who was universally admired by all the female students; Marwa had him in bed more than once. Thus imagination provided her with a novel and effective way of overcoming her physical problem. The whole thing even turned into a delightful secret game. As soon as she sensed Danana’s impending attack, she would wonder: with whom am I going to sleep tonight? Rushdi Abaza already had his turn, twice. That’s enough for him. Oh, how I miss Kadhim! As she kept doing that she got so thoroughly caught up in the act that she feared her tongue might let slip the name of her imagined lover in front of her husband, resulting in a major scandal. As soon as she felt Danana letting go of his disgusting warm pleasure inside her she would run to the bathroom, her eyes almost closed so that she wouldn’t lose the fantasy, and then continue to arouse herself to orgasm. Those were Marwa’s attempts to adapt, endure, and live. She began to accept life with Danana as it was and not as she wished it to be. And here a question might arise: Wasn’t it strange that Marwa should go from one extreme to the other so quickly? Was the advice of her parents enough to push her to the bosom of Danana, whom, only a few days earlier, she couldn’t stand to see? To answer yes would not be a complete answer. There was a deep, hidden feeling that impelled her to win Danana over with all her might: not out of love, of course, nor out of fear of the fate of divorced women, but because her parents’ warning had caused her great confusion. So she wanted to give her marriage the best possible chance. If she succeeded she would be happy, but if she failed she would not blame herself and her parents would not be able to blame her. Hence her attempts to win her husband over, despite their strong persistence, had a phony celebratory aspect to them, like two lawyers on opposite sides, or two tennis players who had just finished a very close match, shaking hands. Marwa treated her husband in an excessively nice way as if making her parents her witnesses so that in the future they wouldn’t rush to judgment and accuse her of wrecking her home. Her new behavior, despite its affectionate tenderness, also had the smoothness of a trap. Danana felt that instinctively and realized that the battle between them was still raging, even if it had taken another form. So he was reserved in what he said to her or did with her.

Danana, however, did not have any surplus energy because the final warning that Dr. Dennis Baker had given him had caused great turmoil in his life. The old man did not leave him any choice: he had to submit the results of his research within a few days, otherwise he would ask to be relieved of supervising him. Were that catastrophe to happen, it would put an end to both his academic and political future. He had to act fast or else everything would be lost. How his enemies would gloat if his research were terminated! Those who hated him would rejoice at the news: Did you hear? They took away Ahmad Danana’s scholarship because he didn’t finish his research on time. Haven’t I told you? He’s always been a loser!

Danana spent several days in his office at school. He locked himself in from the morning until the evening. He didn’t open his door to anybody and didn’t attend lectures or classes of any kind. Three days passed that way until last Wednesday when a unique incident in the history of the department of histology occurred, which people recounted in different ways, some of which were exaggerated. What was certain was that at about one o’clock, after lunch break, Dr. Baker was busy conducting some experiments while humming softly on account of the small bottle of white wine that he had had with lunch. He was preoccupied, with the utmost concentration, with testing a new photograph of some nerve cells that he had taken with the electron microscope. He came to at a sudden knock on the door. In his hoarse voice, without raising his head, he said, “Come in.”

The door opened and Danana appeared, carefully carrying some papers. Baker looked at him and, remembering what had happened between them, frowned and said in a not-too-friendly tone, “How can I help you?”

Danana laughed, as if he had just heard a friend tell a joke, and said, “Dr. Baker, why are you treating me so harshly?”

“Tell me what you want. I don’t have time to waste with you.”

Danana sighed then moved two steps forward and extended his hand with the papers toward Baker, his face looking like someone about to give a surprise. “Please.”

“What’s this?”

“The results you asked of me.”

“Really? Did you get it done?” Baker exclaimed in disbelief as he looked at the results with great interest. He soon looked pleased and said to Danana, who sat in front of him, “Well, my friend. You are finally taking your work seriously.”

“I had to work hard after you kicked me out of your office last week,” said Danana in a tone of feminine reproach bordering on the coquettish.

Baker seemed at a loss and said apologetically, “Please appreciate the fact that I am responsible for the research I supervise. Any negligence there impinges on me personally.”

“Dr. Baker, was it really necessary to kick me out? I too have dignity.”

“I am sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

Danana didn’t look as if he had forgiven but made a gesture with his hand, as if he would forget what had happened for the time being. Then he assumed the pose of a generous man turning a new page, saying, “Let’s talk about work. That’s more important to me.”

Baker pulled a piece of paper and a pen and said enthusiastically, “After obtaining these results, we have to start the statistics phase. We are going to feed all these figures to the computer to see if they are statistically significant.”

Danana asked in annoyance, “After all the effort I exerted and the long hours I spent working, could the results be without statistical significance?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But it is possible that my hard work will be wasted and the results be statistically insignificant!”

“In that case I’d be responsible because I laid out the research plan. But let’s think positively. The results will be significant, I am sure.”

Danana stood up and it occurred to him, before leaving, to say something pithy. He said, “Professor Baker, despite everything, I am happy and proud to work with you.”

“Me too, Danana, and, once again, I am sorry,” said Baker and gave him a strong handshake. Then he sat down and laid out the results and started studying them. After half an hour, Danana was sitting in his office when Baker came in, rubbing his bald head with the finger of his right hand as he usually did when he was engaged in deep thought. Then he said slowly, his eyes gleaming, “Once again, congratulations, Danana. The results are logical and strong.”

“Thanks.”

“An idea has occurred to me that would support your results. Show me one of your slides.” Danana got up slowly and opened the cabinet next to the desk and gave Baker a slide. Baker held it carefully, put on his glasses, and exam ined it under the microscope. He soon raised his head and said, “The number of black spots on this slide is a hundred sixty-seven.”

Danana nodded and remained silent. Baker examined the results and said in surprise, “That’s strange. The number you recorded is greater than that.”

He looked at Danana as if he didn’t understand then went over to the cabinet himself and took two other slides that he put through a similar examination, and then looked at Danana, who bowed his head slowly. For a few moments, a silence, charged with an unknown energy, prevailed so quietly that the soft hum made by the lab’s fridge sounded like destiny. Suddenly Dr. Baker threw the slides on the floor and they broke into shiny shards. Then he roared with an angry resounding voice that no one had heard from him before. “What a scumbag! The results you submitted are fabricated. Where is your honor? I will revoke your dissertation and expel you from the department at once.”