Palace Walk

32

Her strength gave out in the sitting room, and she threw herself down on the edge of the sofa. His harsh, decisive words were bouncing around inside her. The man was not joking. When had he ever told a joke? Much as she wanted to flee, she could not leave immediately. If she left before him that would be contrary to the normal routine and arouse the boys' suspicions. She did not want them to begin their day and go off to their jobs digesting the news of her being thrown out of the house. There was another sentiment at work as well, possibly embarrassment, that kept her from wishing to see them when she was in the humiliating status of a discarded wife. She decided to stay where she was until he had left. Better still, she would take refuge in the dining room so he would not see her on his way out. With a broken heart she slipped into that room and, gravely and despondently, sat down on a pallet.

What did he really mean? Was he evicting her temporarily or forever? She did not believe he intended to divorce her. He was more noble and generous than that. Yes, he was irascible and tyrannical, but only extreme pessimism could hide from her his gallantry, chivalry, and mercy. Could she forget how sympathetic he had been when she was confined to bed? He had visited her day after day to inquire about her health. A man like that would not lightly destroy a house, break a heart, or wrest a mother from her children.

She began pondering these ideas as though trying to restore some composure to her shaken soul. She persisted at this task, but her persistence only revealed the fact that composure refused to settle in her soul. Similarly, the weaker some invalids feel, the more they boast of their strength. She did not know what to do with her life or what meaning life would have if her hopes were dashed and the worst did happen.

She heard his stick tapping on the floor of the sitting room as he made his exit. She lost her train of thought and listened intently to the succession of taps, until he had departed. At that moment she felt the enormous pain of her situation and was furious at the iron will that had made no allowance for her weakness.

She rose feebly and left the room to go down to the first floor. At the head of the stairs she could make out the voices of the boys as they descended one after the other. She stretched her head out over the railing and caught sight of Fahmy and Kamal. They were trailing after Yasin on their way to the door that led to the courtyard. Affection rushed through her heart and overwhelmed it. She was amazed at herself. How could she let them go without saying goodbye? She would not be able to see them again for days or even weeks. Perhaps for the remainder of her life, she would see them only infrequently, as though they were strangers. She stood where she was on the stairs, without budging, while affection surged through her heart. Although her heart was filled with emotion, she could not accept the painful thought that this gloomy fate was her destiny. She had a limitless belief in God, who had protected her in the past when she was alone with the jinn. Her trust in her husband also continued undimmed. No evil had yet afflicted her that was serious enough to deprive her quiet life of its confident trust. For all these reasons, she was inclined to consider her ordeal a harsh trial through which she would pass unscathed.

She found Khadija and Aisha embroiled in a quarrel as usual, but they abandoned it when they noticed her sorrow and the dead look of her eyes. They feared, perhaps, that she had left her bed before fully recovering her health. Khadija asked anxiously, "What’s the matter, Mother?"

"By God, I don't know what to say. I'm going".

Although the last phrase emerged in a terse and impromptu fashion, it acquired a gloomy meaning from her despairing look and plaintive tone. Both girls were frightened by it and cried out together, "Where?"

She had been apprehensive beforehand about the effect her words would have on them and even on herself. Now she said brokenly, "To my mother".

They rushed to her in alarm and said at the same time, "What are you saying?… Don't say that again… What happened?"

She found some consolation in her daughters' dismay, but-as often happens in such circumstances-that only caused her sorrows to burst forth even more. Struggling with her tears, she said in a trembling voice, "He hasn't forgotten anything and hasn't forgiven anything". She said this with an anguish that revealed the depth of her sorrow. She continued: "He was angry with me and postponed doing something about it till I recovered. Then he told me, 'Leave my house immediately.' He also said, 'I don't want to find you here when I come back this noon.'" Then she remarked in a voice that betrayed both disappointment and melancholy censure, "Hear and obey… hear and obey".

Khadija, in a state of nervous agitation, yelled at her, "I don't believe it. I don't believe it. Say something else… What’s happened to the world?"

Aisha shouted in a broken voice, "This will never do! Does our happiness mean so little to him?"

Khadija asked again, angrily and sharply, "What’s he got in mind?… What does he plan to do, Mother?"

"I don't know. That’s exactly what he said, with no additions or deletions".

At first this was all she would say, perhaps because she wished to increase their sympathy and gather some consolation from their dismay. Then her pity for them and her desire to reassure herself got the better of her and she went on: "I suspect that all he plans to do is separate me from you for a few days to punish me for my misadventure".

"Wasn't what happened to you enough for him?"

The mother sighed sadly and murmured, "The matter’s in God’s hands… Now I must go".

Khadija blocked her way. She said in a voice choked by sobs, "We won't let you go. Don't leave your home. I don't think he'll persist in his anger if he returns and finds you with us".

Aisha implored her, "Wait till Fahmy and Yasin get back. Father will think twice about tearing you away from all of us".

In rebuttal, their mother admonished them: "It’s never wise to challenge his anger. A man like him becomes softer when people obey him and fiercer if people rebel".

They tried to protest once more, but she silenced them with a motion of her hand and observed, "There’s no point in talking. I've got to go. I'll gather my clothes and set off. Don't be alarmed. We won't be separated long. We'll be reunited again, God willing".

The woman went to her room on the second floor with the two girls at her heels. They were crying like babies. She started to remove her clothes from the armoire, but Khadija seized her hand and asked her passionately, "What are you doing?"

The mother felt that her tears were about to get the best of her. She refrained from speaking for fear her voice would give her away or she would start weeping. She was determined not to cry when her daughters could see her. She gestured with her hand as if to say, "Circumstances require me to get my clothes together".

Khadija said sharply, "You're only going to take one change of clothing with you… just one".

A sigh escaped from her. At that moment she wished the whole affair was a frightening dream. Then she said, "I'm afraid he'll be furious if he sees my clothing in the usual place".

"We'll keep it in our room".

Aisha collected her mother’s clothes, except for a single outfit, as her sister had suggested. Their mother yielded to them with deep relief. It seemed to her that so long as her clothes remained in the house she retained her right to return there. She got out a bag and stuffed in it the clothing she was permitted to take. She sat down on the sofa to put on her stockings and shoes. Her daughters stood facing her. They looked at her with sad, bewildered eyes. Her heart melted at the sight and, pretending to be calm, she said, "Everything will return to normal. Be brave, so you don't make him angry at you. I entrust the house and family to you with full confidence in your abilities. Khadija, I'm certain you'll find Aisha helpful to you in every way. Do what we used to do together just as though I were with you. Each of you is a young woman fully prepared to found and nurture a home".

She rose to get a cloth to wrap around herself. Then she lowered a white veil over her face with deliberate slowness to delay the painful, frightening final moment as long as she could. They all stood facing each other, not knowing what would come next. Her voice refused to say goodbye. Neither of the girls had the courage to fling herself into her mother’s arms as she wished. Seconds ticked by, made heavy by suffering and anxiety. Finally, the woman, who had steeled herself, feared her resolve would desert her. She moved a step closer and bent toward them to kiss them, one after the other. She whispered, "Never lose heart. Our Lord is with all of us".

At that they clung to her. They were sobbing too hard to speak.

The mother left the house, her eyes filled with tears, and the street seemed to dissolve as she looked at it through them.