The Automobile Club of Egypt

SALEHA

It seemed like the angel of death was hovering above our building. I felt a strange sense of foreboding about my mother. I trembled whenever I imagined that I might suddenly lose her like I had lost my father. I would wake up in the middle of the night and go to check on her. I would walk over to her in the dark as she was sleeping, holding my finger just below her nostrils to see that she was still breathing. I only ever left her side when I went to school. I made her sit next to me when I did my homework, and I felt that she needed me as much as I needed her. My mother had plunged headlong into battle to try to get my father’s pension. The day Comanus telephoned asking if he could come and see us, my brother Kamel and I were sitting with her. When she put the receiver down, she looked worried and asked us, “Why do you think Comanus wants to come and see us?”

Kamel placed a hand on my mother’s shoulder and replied, “It must be good news. Comanus is a good man.”

“But he already paid his condolences. What does he want now?”

“Perhaps now he has some news.”

My mother gave a sigh, “God help us. We have enough problems.”

The following day we all waited for Comanus to arrive, my mother, Kamel, Said, Mahmud and I. He shook hands warmly with us one by one. He was wearing a smart gray suit and a white shirt with a blue tie. From the very first, I felt comfortable with him. He looked like a pleasant, trustworthy man, and I liked the way he smiled and tried to pronounce Arabic consonants. My mother invited him into the sitting room while I went to the kitchen to prepare the Turkish coffee as he’d asked for it, semisweet. I served it with a glass of ice water on the beautiful silver tray my mother saved for guests. As agreed before he arrived, Mahmud and I then withdrew, leaving Comanus with the adults. As usual, my brother Mahmud appeared indifferent to what was going on and went off to his bedroom, but I could not overcome my curiosity. I turned the lights off in the dining room, pushed the door open a little and positioned myself so that I could see and hear without being noticed.

Comanus started off by saying, “I have come to see that you are all well.”

“It’s very kind of you,” said my mother warmly.

Comanus continued, “The late Abd el-Aziz was like a brother to me. Please, Umm Said, if you need anything, just ask me.”

“May God keep you, sir.”

They fell into silence again. Comanus cleared his throat and said, “I found out what happened when you went to see Mr. Wright. It’s very unfortunate.”

My mother pricked up her ears. She leaned back against her chair and said firmly, “It just does not make sense that my late husband could work at the Club for five years and that they don’t pay a widow’s pension. What rules or laws do they operate under?”

“You’re right. The rules and bylaws are unjust.”

My mother replied with a stronger voice, “The rules and the bylaws mean nothing to me, sir. Please God, the court will make them pay what is due to us.”

“But, Umm Said, going to court is a long, drawn-out process.”

“I will make them pay.”

“The lawyers also charge a fortune!”

“We can afford it, thank God.”

“I have come to suggest another solution.”

My mother looked at him and said nothing.

Comanus took a sip of coffee and continued: “After much effort, I have managed to persuade Mr. Wright to take two of your boys on at the Club, in the place of their late father. One will work with me in the storeroom and the other doing deliveries. Together they will earn the equivalent of his pension.”

My mother remained silent, and Comanus added quietly, “Isn’t that a better solution than the headache of going to court?”

“God help us,” muttered my mother who seemed to be thinking it over.

Comanus smiled and added apologetically, “Of course, Mr. Wright has agreed to this on condition you do not take the Club to court.”

“I understand.”

“So, you agree?”

“Please God it will all be for the best. I just need two or three days to think it over and I’ll telephone you.”

“Splendid!”

“I am so grateful to you, Monsieur Comanus, for having thought about how you can help us. We will never forget this kindness.”

Comanus replied with warm sincerity: “It’s the very least I can do for the late Abd el-Aziz. But, please, Umm Said, give me your answer soon. It was difficult to win Mr. Wright over, and I’m worried he’ll change his mind.”

They chatted about nothing in particular for another quarter of an hour, and then Comanus said that he had to leave. They showed him out and returned to the sitting room. My mother sat on the chair next to the window, with Said and Kamel near her on the sofa. As I was on my way to join them, my mother said, “Come in, Saleha. I want to tell you something.”

The moment I sat down next to her, she told me excitedly, “The khawaga, Comanus, has come up with a new idea.”

“I heard it all.”

Kamel asked me, “So what do you think?”

“Well, of course, working at the Club is better than having to fight in court.”

My mother seemed happy to hear that I agreed. She sighed. “Thank God. God knows our situation.”

Silence fell on us again. It felt as if my mother was trying to decide for sure. Then she turned to Kamel and Said and told them with a tense smile, “We haven’t got any time to lose. We have to make a decision tonight so I can give Comanus an answer tomorrow.”

They both looked at her in silence as she continued to explain, “Mahmud can do deliveries. Which of you will work in the storeroom with Comanus?”

Said replied, “I will not work at the Automobile Club.”

“And just why not, Lord Said?” asked my mother sarcastically.

“I’m waiting to see about my diploma, and then I will find a better job.”

“And you’ll find a job just like that!”

“God will help.”

“The country’s brimming with qualified people who can’t get a job.”

“I’d rather be out of work than bunged up in the storeroom.”

“And what’s wrong with the storeroom?”

“I want to work in my own field. In carpets.”

“That’s just like you. Can’t think about anyone but yourself.”

“It’s not a sin to think about myself!”

“But it is a sin not to think about us. You should be ashamed to sit there in front of me and turn down the only chance we have of getting through this. Do you never think that your mother and siblings need every piastre we can get? Do you not realize that this job which you are rejecting out of hand is one which your father did for years just to look after us?”

“My father, may God have mercy on him, put up with the misery out of guilt at having squandered his wealth on his relatives.”

“How dare you! How dare you speak about your late father like that!” my mother shouted, her eyes wide with anger.

Said looked defiant and said, “Listen. I can read you like a book.”

“Speak to your mother with some respect!” Kamel warned him.

Said ignored him and carried on shouting at our mother, “You want to throw me into that storeroom so that your darling Kamel can finish his university studies. He’ll be a lawyer and I’ll be a menial. No. Things are different now. You’ve already stopped me from going to university, what more do you want?”

“You are the one who stopped yourself. Did anyone tell you to get such low marks?”

“All right then, I’m a disappointment, a loser. Just let me be. Soon I’ll be able to support myself. I’ll leave home, and then you won’t have to put up with me. Your beloved Mr. Kamel, the lawyer, can get off his backside and do something useful for once in his life.”

“Did I raise you to speak like that, Said?” my mother asked, her voice quivering. It had no effect on Said. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kamel and I sat there in silence. Suddenly my mother burst out in tears. I rushed over to her and started kissing her head and her hands.

Kamel said, “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll work in the storeroom.”

“But your studies,” she replied weakly.

Kamel put his hand on her shoulder and said, “With God’s help, I’ll do both.”